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  • closure, 0.7

    Sarah waited patiently in Santiago's office for her to return. The operation had been a success, Miriam Godwinson was free, and the Hive had lost the Hunter-Seeker algorithm.

    *****

    High above planet, in a hydroponics pod, a crew of four sat and ate their dinner in the observation deck. It was about ten minutes into the meal when one of them realized something was wrong... She looked straight up and was surprized at what she didn't see: stars. Instead there was a massive blackness, punctured by the occaisional red glow. One had asked her if she had a neck cramp, but the look of terror convinced him to look up as well.

    There was a light chirping sound that indicated an incoming transmission.

    "humans: Spartan: contravention of: Tau Ceti accords. Only Choice: death."

    *****

    As Santiago entered her office, there was a bright violet flash in the western sky.

    "What the hell was that?"

    "I have no clue, sir."

    An attendant rushed into the colonel's office, his face pase as if he had seen a ghost. "Colonel, i thnk you should take a look at this." A holo of space just above planet's atmosphere.

    Little black dots littered the veiw. About six dozen. Santiago read intently at her computer screen. "Over ninety ships? Where did these things come from? And what do they want?" The holo then changed to the hydroponics pod. Or rather what was left of it. Corazon then played the transmission, and sat back ponderously.

    "Sir? What's happening?" Sarah asked.

    "Do you know the story of Robin Hood?"

    "I'm afraid i'm not"

    "Well, it's like this: the king goes away to fight in a war, leaving everything up to his son. His son is a poor ruler, and ends up with the entire populace being ruled out of fear. The king comes back, and finds out what his son has done. How do you think he'd feel?"

    "He'd be rather upset, sir."

    "Exactly. We claim that we're colonists on this world, but to them, we're a bunch of squatters. I just hope that they haven't spoken to Yang yet."

    Comment


    • Deep Passage

      "Get up. Will, wake up!" The voice intruded into William's peaceful sleep. He was exhausted and opened his eyes with reluctance to see the face of the person who had so rudely awoken him.

      "Brad, what do you want? My shift doesn't start for another hour." Will groaned as he glanced at the data clock next to his bedside.

      His best friend Brad was dressed in the full uniform of the Spartan Cadet Services, an organisation where those too young to fight, were able to contribute to the war effort. They spent the majority of their time organising supplies to be sent to the front lines and keeping roadways clear.

      "Not today buddy. We're moving out." Brad began to collect the few belongings that William had with him into his equipment pack.

      "What do you mean?" asked William. They had not been here that long and there was still so much work to do until Deep Passage could become a fully operational Spartan base.

      "They sent out the orders this morning. All cadets are being pulled back to the mainland. They're stepping up on the offensive again. Geez, where have you been? Didn't you get any of the comm messages?"

      "No, I've been asleep." he responded as he groggily dragged himself out of bed.

      "Where do you go at nights? Every morning you're a walking disaster area, but you're never at the Rec. Centre at night. You don't know what you're missing out on. The girls here are living like they're never going to see tomorrow, if you know what I mean! Or maybe you do!" Brad said with a smirk on his face. "That's it, isn't it! You've got a girl somewhere, don't you."

      "None of your buisness." Will responded quickly. He began to help Brad pack the few remaining belongings. "So any word on where they're going to hit first?"

      "Man you really are out of it. They hit last night. Nerve gas attack on Socialism Tunnels, just across the border."

      William dropped the holocrystal of his parents on the floor. A terrible fear clenched at his stomach, and he tried to mask his feelings before Brad got suspicious. Besides, maybe she got out. Maybe she's already half way to the Free Drones.

      "You all right?" Brad asked. William nodded his head. "Man, it's crazy though. Apparently the whole place went nuts when they hit it. Rumour has it that another rebellion was under way. Yang was hitting his own people when we hit him!"

      William couldn't take it any longer and he ran out of his room and out into the tunnel. He raced up to ground level and out into the surrounding area.

      People tossed odd glances at him as he passed, but he could care less. He saw the forest on the horizon and despite his exhaustion began to run faster. He was almost there when from out of nowhere a guard lept out and tackled him.

      "Where the hell do you think you are going Cadet?" questioned the soldier, gun poised at William's head.

      "I have to get in there sir. I know someone over there."

      "The only people over there are the enemy Cadet. Stevenson, take this kid back to the Command Centre. Inform them we have a potential collaborator on our hands."

      Another guard emerged from his cover and approached William. He placed Will in restraints and led him back towards the base. All Will could do was pray that she would be okay.
      -Argo

      "Work like you don't need money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching. Sing like nobody's listening."

      Comment


      • The white light of pain is all I know. It wracks my body and proves that I yet live, even if I might yearn for oblivion, but such is not my fate.

        The pain is my friend, for with it I can atone for my past. I have made so many mistakes, and so many friends and colleagues have been betrayed by those mistakes.

        All I have is my pain, and my memories.

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

        ”Prokhor, there are barbarians at the gate,” Emily states dryly. She is a lovely young thing, and is only too happy to serve me in whatever fashion I desire. She is a good conversationalist and bedmate, and an able assistant.

        “Is it Santiago again, or just one of her begging and mewing minions? Or have they issued yet more demands?” I reply, truly annoyed to have my train of thought interrupted. I have asked Emily to inform me whenever these pesky Spartans come along or intrude into my territory. I suppose I will have to treat with them and even acknowledge them, even if they are so pitifully backward. Imagine; Santiago even bragged that she had ‘impact weapons’ in her last transmission! We’ve had missile technology for over a decade, and even that will soon be obsolete for us.

        “It is one of her begging minions. One of their old and battered rover crews blundered into our territory again, and ran into a former crew planting a forest. They mumbled something about worm hunting in fresh territory,” Emily says with a grin.

        “That tired old line again? Is their economy so pitiful that they have to rely on worm hunting for their energy credits? I guess they haven’t figured out that development yields energy, as does trade. Santiago never was very bright about such things. If they didn’t spend all their time making weapons to fight no one in particular they might have an economy!” Emily has heard this little tirade of mine before, but she doesn’t object. She doesn’t object to anything I do. Guileless devotion is such a valued commodity!

        “What shall I have the Cosmograd City Administrator Heinstein tell them? He’s waiting, and those Spartans aren’t known for their patience.”

        I ponder this question for the moment. I don’t like Spartans wandering around my territory one bit since they are undoubtedly spying on our cities and development. Probably green with envy, too. Their biggest city, Sparta Command, has a measly 40,000 population, which is a bit less than half of University Base. We have almost as many cities as they do, and ours are generally twice as big. In the last financial period we were able to afford the energy credits to purchase two research hospitals! And what to the Spartans have? Nothing! Only a few primitive recreation commons, and their prized and much touted Command Center Nexus at Sparta Command. They have to control their populations with police, for heaven’s sake! Under our free market democracy we have no such need.

        “Tell them that according to the terms of our treaty that they are to withdraw to their territory immediately,” I tell her curtly.

        “Yes, Prokhor,” she tells me.

        She seems a bit worried but I dismiss it. After all, what is there to be worried about? That there are barbarians at the gate?

        Ha!

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

        “Prokhor, it’s Santiago again and she is getting very agitated. I suggest you take her call,” Emily intones again. The Spartan rover crew made a hasty retreat a few days earlier. Santiago’s communication system must be pretty limited if it took her this long to find out about it!

        “She keeps interrupting me, and keeps making unseemly demands! Why should I give her missile technology, or pay some fabricated fine! Let her eat static!”

        “Yes, sir,” Emily says. She turns to leave, then stops and turns back toward me. “Our sensors show us there are Spartan rover brigades in the fungus. According to the report I received there are at least 3 brigades.”

        “What of it? Our plasma garrisons can deal with any threat they may present. Santiago can pound salt!”

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

        “…and so, our work into the gestation of native lifeforms has been less than successful. We have so far been unable to recreate the conditions necessary to bring the mindworm collective intelligence to term. Those worms that we do bring to term act as individuals and fail to form a collective consciousness. These individuals, while similar to other elements in Chiron ecology, do not exhibit any of the characteristics commonly associated with mindworms. In short, we can breed the worms but not the mindworms.”

        With that comment I perk up and start listening closely to what has been an otherwise unexciting presentation by Dr. Andre Zahrenov.

        “Professor?” I ask. Everyone immediately looks toward me. “What have you been doing to simulate the gestation of the mindworms you hold in captivity?”

        “We have supplied them with native life forms found in the fungus, or bred by us from stock taken from the fungus.”

        I smile, since he has missed the obvious. “We know how the mindworms gestate, Professor. They use their psychic powers to paralyze their human victims with fear, then implant their larvae into human brains. What you need are human subjects.”

        Professor Andre is quiet.

        I can’t help thinking to myself - Such lack of vision!

        “Prokhor, that has been discussed. However, we have no subjects and wouldn’t know where to find them. And we would need senior authorization to change the character of the project in such a way,” he continues nervously.

        Obviously, he is hedging and I decide to raise the ante.

        “Then I give the authorization and will also supply your research group with suitable subjects.”

        I think to myself: test subjects are all too common. Perhaps the Spartans could be useful after all? It would solve two problems – a research dilemma and a mote in need of a demonstration. And it would provide a little territory for expansion.

        “Perhaps we could contact the Gaians,” Andre offered. “They are known to be well versed in native life, and they might be willing to trade technology. Their current troubles with the Hive and Morganites might make them interested in an even trade.”

        “The Gaians! If we help them then we will anger the unholy alliance of Yang and Morgan. In months they will finish crushing the last of the Gaian resistance on what will soon be Yang’s continent. With them flush with victory I do not want to give them another target. No, we will neither ask help from nor assist the Gaians. Her ideological and intractable war with Morgan has lasted almost 30 years now, and now she is reaping her bitter fruit from the hand of Yang, now that he is fully involved. She had her chance to see reason and to offer accommodation to the warmongers, but Lady Skye is far too idealistic to consider the reality of her situation.”

        Andre nods his assent, but doesn’t look too happy.

        “We are behind schedule. What is the next research status report?” I prompt.

        That brakes the uncomfortable silence, and the meeting continues at full pace.

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

        “Prokhor and honored guests, I am proud to present to you the first prototype aircraft on Planet! The Zakharov Interceptor!”

        A billowing white sheet falls away, revealing the outlines of a sleek fission jet. It is a marvel of University research and engineering. Gleaming white with a blue University logo on its tail fin and wings, it will soon grace the sky. But now it rests peacefully in its hanger in the aerospace center with its proud pilot standing by, her hand resting lightly on its molded plasteel flank.

        Smiling broadly, I walk toward the marvel with the other dignitaries. Of course I approach first and my retinue after. Rank does have its privileges. We walk around the plane, noting that the hull seems to be made out a seamless ceramic-like material, and that all the elements seemed to flow from the other. In many ways this aircraft is better than the best old Earth had to offer.

        Gradually the dignitaries begin to cluster into groups and chat among themselves. My chosen few, including Emily, form my immediate entourage. Turning, I notice Emily looking at me with an expectant eye. What does she want? Perhaps she thinks that I should give an inspirational speech, declaring that this sterling example of University technology is but a foretaste of things to come? No, that has already been done. Or maybe she just wants to celebrate a little? Perhaps a little champagne and rock oysters?

        Yes, that must be it! I approach her and then wink. She seems a little startled, but then she smiles slightly and takes my offered elbow and together we walk from the hanger.

        What a glorious day! And just think: tomorrow the interceptor gets its first test! Against live targets!

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

        The cool and austere figure of Santiago’s holo graces my office. As expected, she answers my request for direct communication. Considering the circumstances, she had better!

        “My dear Colonel,” I start, “Your force has been one again sighted within my territory. By terms of our treaty I insist that they be removed immediately! Your repeated border incursions have become tiresome and they will end now!”

        Santiago’s eyes narrowed. “Are you threatening me, Professor? If so then I am not frightened. You should recall from our previous encounter on the battlefield 30 years ago that I do not frighten easily. I can be reasonable, however. If you will grant me the secrets of missile technology then I am sure our mutual understanding can grow and we can both prosper.”

        I laugh out loud. “Surely you crave, Santiago! Under no circumstances would I give such secrets to a warmonger like you! You would do well be careful in making such a demand, for I have just unveiled the first airforce on Planet, the Zakharov Missile Interceptor! Do you refuse to remove your forces?”

        Santiago’s haughty lips part into a smile that looks more like a snarl. Her vaunted control seems to be slipping.

        Perfect! Let her make the first move! That would preserve my reputation, and make me the victim against the ‘nasty and barbaric Spartan menace’!

        “Professor, you have grown decadent and insolent. However, I abide by the treaties I sign. We will withdraw.”

        The holo winked out.

        Damn!

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

        In the dark of night a Spartan rover brigade hiding in the fungus disgorged its cargo: a group of a dozen men and women in black fungalweave suits, which were designed to foil most detection and make them very difficult to see with the naked eye. At the base of the hill was the garish and brightly-lit University city of Cosmograd, which was surrounded by a farm field and broad swaths of forest. A road extended to the southeast toward the rest of University territory. This city was the nearest to Spartan lands, and it was the northwestern-most city controlled by the good Professor Zakharov.

        Without a word the team split up and expertly made their way through the fungus. At its edge they waited to refine their attack. Then, one by one they slipped into the cover of darkness and into the unsuspecting city.

        Four hours later there was a beep in the lead rover, which was waiting undetected in the fungus.

        Mission successful! Download complete! And the probe team had been able to slip away without being intercepted!

        In the cabins of the impact rover brigade the crew took out valued containers of fungal gin. Rare outside Gaian territory, it was used only for celebrations. Tonight was surely a cause for celebration.

        Now the Spartans had missile technology, courtesy of the University’s lax security and Spartan superior training!

        Salute!

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

        “What!!!!”

        “Our databanks were breached, sir,” Emily states as calmly as she can. “The Spartans have downloaded the technical specifications for missile technology.”

        “Santiago! She will pay!”

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

        Rising from its landing strip the lone interceptor banked north and then northwest. In minutes its smallish University home city of Cosmograd was beneath it. Although the airstrip at Cosmograd was not as fully equipped as where the interceptor had been manufactured, it was adequate. The population of Cosmograd was honored that this fine example of University technology and engineering was stationed in their city. With the start of a the second ‘hot war’ with the Spartans, the citizens were happy for any protection they could get against the nasty and barbaric Spartans.

        In the cabin the lone jet pilot Steph Dickenson, the first on Chiron, rejoiced in the freedom she felt. Previously she had flown bulky and ungainly air transports, which were really very primitive and generally a little dangerous.

        Her bird was something else altogether! The interceptor itself was a thing of beauty, with swept wings and one-piece construction. Even the engines were so finely tuned that they almost were soundless. Inside the controls were manual, computer controlled, voice activated, or eye-directed, and neural connections even allowed fantastic g-forces to be used without blacking out.

        Luxuriating aside, she knew she had a mission to accomplish. “Air control tower, this is Zak 1. Downloading sensor data now. Target acquired. Permission to activate missiles?”

        “Affirmative Zak 1. Permission granted. Mission authorized by flight control. Good luck, Steph!”

        “Acknowledged tower. Target acquired. “

        Below her a Spartan rover brigade was ‘hiding’ in the fungus. Before air power they would have been invulnerable.

        But not now.

        Gently she put the firing controls on manual, and pressed the ‘little candy colored red button’ that fired her first salvo of missiles. The undercarriage of the interceptor jolted, since the missiles were not intended to fire at ground targets. Some of the rocket backwash seared the plastisteel fuselage, and a couple of red damage lights came on in her heads-up display.

        Steph tracked the missiles with an onboard microcamera, then activated the microcamera in each of the munitions. Satisfied that each was on target she banked to the left to give herself maneuver room in case a second volley was needed.

        A second volley wasn’t needed. The unarmored Spartan impact rovers were hit dead on, and each erupted sequentially into flame. Some of the crew in the last rovers understood what was happening and were fleeing. Steph couldn’t help but admire their training and response time, especially to an unknown such at this attack.

        It wouldn’t save them, though

        “Steph to air control. Target Spartan rover brigade destroyed. There are at least a dozen survivors in the fungus. Send cleanup crew. Squirting holovid and coordinates now.”

        Exalting, Steph set a course for home, feeling buoyed and ecstatic by the experience. Her bird has proven its worth and had scored the first kill in what was to be the Second University-Spartan war. If this were any example the war wouldn’t be much of a contest.

        Steph eye-activated her holocamera and swiveled it aft for a last look. The flames from the Spartan rovers were already dying in the nitrogen-rich atmosphere, and there were still small forms scurrying about.

        It will be a short war, she thought as the Spartans disappeared into the horizon.

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

        “How could we have lost Cosmograd! We destroyed the Spartan rover group that was with the probe team!”

        Emily once again has a patient look on her face. “Sir, there were 5 other impact rover brigades hidden in the fungus, and some of them were elites. The elites plowed into the woods surrounding Cosmograd and still were able to attack. The first sacrificed themselves, and the second destroyed the garrison. The third took the city, and it was followed by two more.”

        “Send the interceptor to take them out, and block the roads! Call up the reserves!”

        “The interceptor is damaged and will be refueling. We have no available reserves right now. We can upgrade some of the old synthmetal and plasma garrisons to missile infantry, and we have two old exploration Unity rovers that can be converted. It will be expensive, through.”

        “Do it!” I almost yell.

        The Spartans are on the march.

        Oh, god!

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

        “How many Spartan rover brigades were there?” I ask desperately.

        “At least eight, sir. We are outnumbered by 4 to 1, and that doesn’t count the Spartan rover brigades in the cities they have already captured, or the defensive garrisons they have formed in captured cities.”

        The high-tech holo map in the newly configured war room at University Base shows the three University cities that have been captured and how fast the front is slipping. Our garrisons now face missile rovers. Without perimeter defenses the garrisons don’t stand a chance against a determined Spartan attack. Already valuable technology has been captured with the cities and huge amounts of energy credits have been drained, sapping our strength and ability to react.

        “Change all production, including the research hospitals, to penetrators, or garrisons where needed! We have to kill the Spartan rovers and stop their advance!”

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

        “Five Spartan rover brigades killed, Prokhor,” a newly promoted General tells me. I have no idea what his name is. Generals come so fast, and die so fast, that I can’t keep track.

        “Then counterattack! We have to retake our city before it is reinforced, like all the others!”

        A wash of regret passes over the face of the young General. He has bad news.

        “I’m sorry, sir. We can’t counterattack. The Spartans have fielded interceptors and penetrators, made possible by captured technology and energy. They were evidently built at the captured aerospace centers. The Spartan planes have been positioned along all roads, and they are poised to strike University Base soon. We are cut off.”

        At last a sense of gloom descends. My glorious technology is being used against me. We destroy the Spartans one for one, but there are always more and they still advance. They are mobile, and their better training tells once they have our technology.

        I cut the holo link, even though the young General has something else important to say. My normally hyperactive mind feels leaden. Options diminish by the day.

        My previous calls to Santiago have gone unanswered and now I am eating static. Strangely, I understand that this must have been how Santiago felt not so long ago.


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

        The pain comes again and I welcome it. My dear Emily! Why did I lose you at last? Why did I not also choose to make the ultimate sacrifice? I never even took the time to say I love you! Emily, so faithful and beautiful.

        Forgive me, Emily.

        And grieve for me, Emily, for I will not die. Not ever.


        Comment


        • Manufacturing Warrens

          “Captain, defending forces have been eliminated at Fecundity Tower, Socialism Tunnels, and Unity Lair. We took some damage, but nothing too severe. The nerve gas did its job on both the defenders and the Hive civilians,” Lieutenant Sing said solemnly.

          “Civilian casualties?” Mel asked.

          “Severe. Socialism Tunnels lost 40,000, Unity Lair lost 30,000, and Fecundity Tower lost less than a thousand. With the massively reduced populations we should have no trouble maintaining control with our troops. How do you want our remaining troops deployed, sir?”

          Mel turned to examine the tactical map once more. With the capture of the three more Hive cities the front would collapse in size very nicely to two ‘front’ cities. This would reduce the pressure to defend everywhere at once, and allow Spartan forces to once again concentrate to take more Hive positions and cities. As a side benefit the capture of Tower would ease pressure on the Morgan city of Communal Nexus, which had been subverted from the Hive by Morgan what seemed like ages ago. As an added benefit the flank of Tower was protected by the Drone city of Great Clustering. Since the Drones weren’t likely to start a conflict with the Spartans that could be considered a ‘safe’ flank. Once the airdrop was complete the planetbuster in production at Unity Lair would be scrapped, removing yet another threat to Sparta.

          There was one glaring holdout that was behind the Spartan line: The Hive. It was heavily fortified, and its aerospace center made an air attack on it prohibitively expensive, even with nerve gas. At it would be a little better 50-50 proposition for a nerve gas shard penetrator to succeed in its attack, and that was assuming the better training of the Spartan crews verses the defenders. Rovers would be sitting ducks since all the roads had been cut.

          “The Hive are weak at Fellowship City, Seat of Proper Thought, and Social Engineering Den due to the fungal blooms and native attacks, which seem to have died down now. There is where we will attack next. Send infantry by airdrop to Tower and Tunnels to secure the cities. Send mobile reinforcements by airdrop to Lair. Keep a reserve rover brigade at Manufacturing Warrens, in addition to the AAA garrisons.”

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

          “GO GO GO GO GO!” a voice yelled through the micro ear mike. The noise level in the airdrop transport increased from a low drone to an almost deafening roar as the drop bay opened. Gradually the artificial light of the cargo bay was augmented by natural light, and a torrent of wind whipped among the waiting rovers.

          One by one the 10 rovers from the brigade drove forward and plunged off the ramp into the Chiron lower atmosphere, activating their retrorockets as they entered free fall. In moments each stabilized and the pilots quickly locked altitude control as targeting identified their target: Unity Lair. Plumes of smoke and great black rents in the earth marked the work of the shard penetrators and Aardvarks. Mercifully the handiwork of the nerve gas pods that had been fired into and through the rents in the Hive city could not be seen.

          That horror would be all too apparent upon landing.

          Viewed from the ground the rovers seemed to float down. An almost continuous firing of rockets slowed their descent and made the rovers appear brighter and brighter as they neared ground surface.

          The ground surface of the city was silent, which was broken only by the increasing roar of the altitude and retrorockets of the descending rover brigade. Or more accurately ‘brigades’, since another airdrop was in progress even as the first touched down. One by one the landing rovers slowed so that they hit the ground as if they were coming off a small ramp – well within the robust Spartan tolerances for their military vehicles.

          A quick encrypted information was squirted from the command rover and the rovers formed up and made their way to the nearest intact cargo bay. They passed gaping craters and one Hive anti aircraft redoubt as they made their way over the blasted landscape. What was left of the redoubt was almost unrecognizable as either humans or equipment.

          Rounding a pile of debris the rovers approached Delta Sector Cargo Bay Door 2, as it was emblazoned in blue on the synthmetal portal. A quick discharge from the chaos turret of the lead rover blasted it inward and the rovers rushed inward.

          The interior of the Hive city was enveloped by the pall of death. Hive solders lay in semi-orderly ranks in the outer portions of the city, haven fallen from nerve gas at the locations that they had been ordered to defend. Deeper in were masses of civilian casualties, sometimes in great piles as they clawed at each other to get to non-existent safety. In the upper levels an occasional a pocket of terrified survivors would be found, but not often. Huddled masses of panic stricken civilians were clustered in the depths of Unity Lair.

          There was no resistance as the Spartans secured the city and raised the electronic flag of victory.

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

          “Captain, Lair, Tower, and Tunnels are secured and full police suppression efforts have commenced. As ordered, production of trained, unarmored garrisons has been rushed and each will be upgraded with fusion plasma armor as soon as possible. Due to the influx of trained COs, all of our new garrisons are close to elite status. Mobile reserves are in place at Lair. Rear guard reserves are here at Manufacturing Warrens, and all cities are building either additional rover brigades or aircraft.”

          Mel nodded and looked at the holographic map of the Hive territory. It had a pleasing swath of Spartan grey, with a satisfyingly diminished swath of Hive blue. The Spartans, their allies, or neutral parties now held well over two-thirds of the Hive’s home territory.

          Now that the bastard Yang only has five cities left on the Hive’s mainland, and three of those were almost undefended. We can take those in our sleep. He has two sea cities and one land city on Morgan’s continent. His back was broken. It’s now simply an exercise in the proper application of overwhelming firepower, Mel thought to herself.

          “Thank you lieutenant. You are dismissed.”

          Comment


          • Morgan Industries
            35/01/2226


            “There’s too much personal stuff,” Joe Carter said imperiously. “It’s a retrospective, not an autobiography. Trim about 30% and take out all the I and me references.”

            “But that’s what it’s all about,” Paula Forbes replied huffily. “It’s this reporter’s recollections of the last year.”

            “And you’ve been overindulgent with our air time. Look, I don’t want you to remove the personal perspective completely, but just tone it down, OK?”

            Paula gave in gracefully. “When do we run it?”

            “We’ll do Skyeday. It’s the last day of the month.” Morgan Newscorp still followed the first Planetary Council’s convention of naming the seven days of the Chiron week after the seven faction leaders. This had been adopted by all the other factions except The Hive, who clung to a simple numeric system of day/1 through day/7, and month/1 through month/14.

            “Good. Skyeday it is then. That gives me three days to prepare the cuts and finalize. Do you want a pontifical piece?”

            “No,” Joe replied. “But you might try to get the CEO. Although I hear he’s grieving mightily for his son. It’d pull in the viewers all across Planet if there were a rescue to report Especially if we were able to insert a holovid crew with the probes.”

            “Dream on,” Paula replied. “Only the Spartans are capable of that, and what’s in it for them except to ***** Yang’s bubble?”

            “Exactly my point,” he replied. “His empire’s crumbling and this would be the final straw – stealing his political prisoners with impunity. But that’s unlikely. So let’s get to work and get the program better defined. And do tell your viewers that we were ready to run with this on Old Year’s Night a month ago, but deferred in light of the nuke attacks.”

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

            38/14/2225

            Tape 35/14.chi.rev.2225 © MorganLink 3DVision


            “Good Evening.

            “Tonight’s special feature is brought to you by Morgan Planetary Energy Corporation. Invest now in the PEC Futures Fund, the best performing Mutual Energy Fund for 2225.

            “We are pleased to bring you over the next hour our review of 2225, a year of incredible change on Chiron – perhaps the pivotal year in Planet’s history. And we’ll begin by turning the clock back fourteen months to this time last year.”

            cue tape 01/01/Pharma

            New Year revellers at Morgan Pharmaceuticals appeared on the screen, some in a high degree of intoxication, others high on the readily available mind-altering drugs. They could be seen mingling with the bemused Hive troops who were standing around drinking in the New Year festivities which were alien to the Hive culture.

            “As you can see, we began the year pacted with The Human Hive – they had troops on secondment in various of our bases, and we in theirs. It seemed a marriage made in heaven. Morgan wealth allied with Hive industry.

            “Chiron was at peace. Our relations with the Spartan Federation and the Peacekeepers were good, and we were looking forward to a year of peace, prosperity and further discovery.

            “Alas, it was not destined to be.

            “Early in the year word leaked out that the Spartans had developed a new technology that enabled their needlejets to be powered by a fusion drive, and were experimenting with new weaponry. An experimental aircraft crashed south of Fort Superiority and Admiralty Base, and a race was on by Spartan and Hive units to reach the downed jet.

            “These units met, and clashed, and suddenly The Spartan Federation and The Human Hive were at war.

            “I am joined by our MorganNews military advisor, retired General Wilfred Hawkes. Good evening Freddy,”

            “Good evening, Paula.”

            “Freddy, back in that third and fourth month of 2225, no-one for a moment thought that the balance of power on Chiron would change so dramatically, so soon, did they?”

            “Certainly not, Paula. Ten months ago power was quite evenly balanced. We at Morgan Industries were the wealthiest faction, The Peacekeepers the most populous, and The Hive and the Spartans were about evenly matched militarily. Of course Sparta had the edge in troop training and morale, but The Hive always was able to put more troops in the field.”

            “So what tilted the balance so significantly in the Spartan’s favour?”

            “Well, Paula, we had a part to play in this, as did the re-emergence on the political arena of Lady Skye and her followers, long thought to be almost extinct.”

            “What was our role?”

            “It began with Plex Anthill – well actually it began before that. Chairman Yang had become fond of – almost addicted to – extortion from our CEO. The fact that he had troops in every one of our bases – and as a Pact Brother he was surely entitled to do this – made energy extortion very easy. So we financed the build up of his war machine – probably even the construction of his prototype Planetbuster missile.

            “When the skirmish north of the Monsoon Jungle escalated into a full scale war, the Spartans responded in the way they knew best. Rapid troop deployment in attack, and Plex Anthill was the target.

            “It was captured, then Chairman Yang delivered his infamous ultimatum – return it or see Sparta Command nuked.

            “And remember that this was happening in the context of a missing Santiago – but we’ll come to that later, no doubt.”

            “Indeed we will, Freddy. And Morgan Industries had a role to play there, too. But you were talking about Plax Anthill?”

            “Yes. And that’s where we came in. Our CEO had been becoming increasingly disenchanted with the Chairman, and after the kamikazi nuclear attack on Santiago and her Junta had pulled out of the pact. The Junta’s governor – Scott Allardyce – proposed a base switch to forestall Yang’s ultimatum: Plex Anthill to Morgan Industries in exchange for Morgan Processing to the Spartan Federation. We effected the exchange, thereby nullifying the threat to Sparta Command, and stymieing Yang somewhat.”

            “And matters really did heat up, after that, Freddy, Didn’t they?”

            “Indeed they did, Paula. In anticipation of Yang’s response to the swap, CEO Morgan instituted his ‘Scorched Earth’ policy. He fomented rebellion among four Hive bases who declared for Morgan by midnight that same night. Yang’s response was to invade and capture Morgan Pharmaceuticals, and shortly thereafter, Morgan Bank.”

            “And that leads us to our next segment, dedicated to those hardy survivors who have seen this year alone two and in some cases three masters. The list is impressive, starting with Plex Anthill itself.”

            cue tape 38/14/Chi/swap

            A montage of overfly and satellite shots accompanied the narration

            Plex Anthill – Hive – then Spartan – now Morgan Complex
            Morgan Processing – Morgan – now Hive, renamed Ruby Ridge Memorial
            Pointa Sur – Spartan – population destroyed
            Communal Nexus – Hive - now Morgan Nexus
            Paradise Swarming – Hive – then briefly Morgan (Morgan Paradise) – now Free Drone Central
            Workers Nest – Hive – now Gaia’s Landing (again)
            Hole of Aspiration – Hive – now Gaian – Nessus Shining (again)
            Morgan Pharmaceuticals – Morgan – then Hive – Communal Conquest – now Spartan
            Morgan Bank – Morgan – now Hive – Banking Collective
            Deep Community – Hive – now Spartan
            Laborers’ Throng – Hive – now Spartan
            Drone Mound – Hive – now Spartan
            Manufacturing Warrens – Hive – now Spartan
            Deep Passages – Hive – now Spartan
            Ironholm – Spartan – obliterated
            Parade Ground – Spartan – Obliterated

            And then, just yesterday,

            Fecundity Tower – Hive - now Spartan
            Soscialism Tunnels – Hive - now Spartan
            Unity Lair – Hive – now Spartan

            And there have been new bases added to Planet’s geography books

            Gaians:

            Temple of Chiron
            Garden of Paradise

            PeaceKeepers:

            UN Court of Justice
            UN Criminal tribunal
            UN Enforcement Base
            UN Sea Habitat – ceded to Free Drones
            UN Disaster relief – ceded to Free Drones

            “So the emergence this past year of the Free Drone faction has taken us all by surprise, as it has now consolidated its position with four bases.

            “And as we consider the implications of this, we………

            pause tape - override

            ……………..excuse me,”

            “This just in.

            “Sparta Command announces the loss of their hydroponic satellite and its crew of 64. The satellite was destroyed a few minutes ago by an alien spacecraft, one of a fleet approaching Chiron, and proclaiming themselves to be a race who founded Chiron millennia ago. Colonel Santiago has convened an emergency session of the Planetary Council to discuss how to deal with this threat.

            “Stay tuned to this station where we will keep you on top of the news.

            “This is Paula Forbes returning you to our special retrospective.”

            resume tape


            Comment


            • In orbit around Chiron

              “Order recall” resonated Commander ‘Ychet Haart as she reclined at the bridge command console of the Usurper Battlecruiser Impaler. “Everyone in,” she altered, “no exceptions.”

              She toggled the res transmitter, and a burst wave reached the two accompanying scoutships.

              “Commander Krill and Distinguished Commander Sk’aard, recall your Gnats until we evaluate what threat if any exist. Convene holographically in a tenth for conference,” she resonated imperiously. Their bursts returned, with the altering not evident, but nonetheless there:

              “As you order, Commander Haart.”

              They watched on their screens as the sixty deployed Gnats of the Battlecruiser returned to the mothership, and the ten each of the two Scoutships sought the sanctuary of their hangars.

              Within the hour there were only the three tactical warships visible in Chiron space.

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

              “We may have been hasty,” resonated Haart. “I assumed the craft was Caretaker. Apparently it was of alien manufacture.

              Commander Toku Krill’s holo could be seen catching the resonance wave and altering it slightly and returning in assent “A natural assumption, Commander. Conqueror Marr left no indication that he had visited this system when we exited the wormhole. The usual marker wasn’t present, so to assume it was one of H’minees ships was a natural mistake.”

              “They didn’t respond,” altered Nang Sk’aard, Distinguished Commander of the Planetary Scoutship 393_s. “They gave out no code.

              “And our Astrogator is receiving strange emanations from this Planet – unlike anything else we have encountered. She is rigging an apparatus to receive and promulgate the signals we are intercepting. We will transmit to you both shortly.”

              Haart’s body language was telling.

              “We are ill equipped for this mission,” she resonated. “From the readings of our sensors we lack the means to descend to this planet’s surface at this time – at least until we have refitted some Gnats to bear the pressures of its stronger gravity. Right now they would burn on entry or be crushed by the atmospheric pressure.”

              “How long before our repair bays could construct a lander?” altered Krill.

              “About thirty turnings,” Haart altered in turn. “At least, to carry some of our troops down. Ogres could be ferried down unpressurized, in perhaps ten turnings.”

              “We are bursting the images now,” an excited Sk’aard resonated sharply, interrupting the others in their discussion.

              “Display,” barked Haart.

              The screen at the head of the command console crackled to life, and there appeared a primitive image of an alien creature with weak mandibles squeaking unintelligible while from time to time the picture dissolved into a montage of landscape and buildings.

              Then suddenly the picture cut to a representation of a spacecraft – the very one that they had destroyed a mere two tenths ago.

              Sk’aard was intrigued. “These strange emanations are concerning the craft,” he resonated. “The aliens must have manufactured it and are now discussing its destruction.”

              “Threat evaluation?” altered Haart. “Your opinions?”

              Krill began:

              “Crude spaceflight capability – limited. No weaponry, and no defense apparent against our resonance weapons. Communications capability of transmitting images, but no holographic capability. No attempt to intercept us,” he resonated at length.

              “Our defense posture?” altered Haart.

              “Readiness,” he altered in reply.

              “Surmise?” she resonated. “Is this one of the Manifolds?”

              “I doubt it,” he altered. “I think we have stumbled on a primitive alien civilization that poses little threat to us.”

              She turned to the holo of Sk’aard.

              “And you, Commander? What is your assess…….”

              “Commanders.” The resonance was insistent, imperative. It was Ce’erns, the Astrogator of the Impaler

              “Report,” barked Haart.

              “Sirs. We have received an interrogative res code from the surface of the planet. We are decoding it now …. it is the ident code for Conqueror Marr.

              “Text:

              We have detected your presence above Chiron. If you can decipher this, you are from a Usurper fleet. By the commission granted me by Supreme Fleetlord Hra’ath I am assuming command of your fleet and order you to stay in the proximity of Manifold Six to await my commands.

              Conqueror Judaa Marr


              Commander Haart’s mandibles were clacking in agitation. Clearly this was not news she had been expecting.

              Sk’aard interjected, his resonance deep and compelling:

              “I counsel caution and prudence, Commander. Although it bears Marr’s arrogant signature, this could be a trap.”

              Commander Haart signified assent.

              “Counsel?” she altered. "And if it is Manifold Six?"

              Sk’aard resonated in reply:

              “Take the Impaler and 229_s back through the wormhole to safety. I will stay here with my Planetary Scoutship 393_s to await events. We will summon you if and when needed. If it is Marr, and he needs us, you will be only turnings away. We will be in proximity.”

              Haart altered her assent. “A sound plan. You have your Gnats for spatial defense. Commander Krill and I will transfer our 15 Ogres to your ship in the event that it is Conqueror Marr below and they are needed by him for planetary conquest. That will give him 20 altogether. Make it happen.”

              The holos dissolved into nothingness.

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


              Commander Krill followed Haart at a respectible distance as they approached the wormhole. To the naked eye, gazing ahead into space, there was nothing discernable. But to the instrument sensors, the gravitational distortion was intense, represented on their screen by a series of colors. Haart was piloting by sense now, the resonance radar picking up and returning the echoes of the variances in the magnetic field surrounding the singularity.

              “Going in” she resonated to Krill, as the Battlecruiser entered the outer fringes of the gravitational distortion.

              The ship bucked, and tossed as it was drawn deeper into the well of the wormhole. Then Krill saw it disappear from sight as the wormhole engulfed its mass.

              “Our turn,” he resonated to his crew. The antigrav dampers were working full blast as he wrestled with the controls, aligning the course from Alpha Centauri back to Sol. The Planetary Scoutship 229_s was swallowed up in the hole.

              Sk’aard was alone with his single scoutship, orbiting Chiron.



              [This message has been edited by The_Progenitors (edited January 26, 2000).]

              Comment


              • The two delegations arrived almost simultaneously.

                Chairman Sheng-Ji Yang, Marshall Ng and Civilian Marshall Madame Hsui with their Elite guard came by chopper, alighting at the small landing pad with little ceremony and taking over the main building of the covert ops headquarters where they prepared for the arrival of the alien delegation,

                They came overland, in weird, unwieldy looking hovervehicles. Four of them, with four occupants per vehicle, and accompanied by two huge metallic robotic war machines.

                They took up quarters in the camouflaged aircraft hanger, better suited to their height and girth than the human quarters that would have been the alternative.

                They met in the open area that doubled as an exercise yard and a parade ground for the covert ops operatives.

                Shauna had been assigned interpreter status, and she sat in the shade with her hands clasped comfortably – and protectively – over her belly. Ron hovered closeby, in earnest conversation – if that is the right word – with Kri’lan. They had fashioned a crude resonance translator from the half built transmitter/receiver Ron had been working on – Kri’lan’s intimate knowledge of resonance technology being allied with Ron’s mechanical aptitude had produced a crude but effective device that could transform spoken speech into the resonating wave patterns that could be understood by the aliens, and vice versa.

                They took their respective places either side of a long trestle table that had been set out under a high awning.

                The Progenitor leader sat slightly ahead of his two key officers, who were flanked by advisors. Behind them was a platoon of eight heavily armed guards, and at the perimeter were the mechwarrior machines.

                Across the table sat Yang, Hsui and Ng, in line, with three key advisors with them. The elites stood behind, constantly scanning the surrounding area for threats, and occasionally glancing at the mechwarrior robots and quietly appraising their fighting capability.

                The negotiations commenced.

                ((Greetings, Earthhuman Yang. I remind you that I am Judaa Marr, honorific Conqueror, leader of The Progenitors and called the Usurpers. We intend to continue the Grand Experiment on Manifold Six and none shall stop us))

                Shauna was intrigued at the workings of the alien’s body as the resonance waves hit her. Through Ruth, she followed the oration, but aurally and visually the display was riveting. Sound seemed to birth deep in Marr’s torso, escaping through nasal and throat passages, to be captured by mandible flaps where the waves were caught, caressed and shaped, then somehow enhanced and projected. She felt their impact deep in her being, resonating throughout her skeletal structure.

                The crude machine that Ron and Kri’lan had fashioned was working after a fashion. It too captured the resonance wave, and through some serried flaps and apertures converted into low, hesitant, repetitive sound waves that conveyed the meaning.

                “Greetings Conqueror Marr. I am Chairman Sheng-Ji Yang, leader of Planetary faction The Human Hive. Our intent is to found a society on the principles of security and control. I sense our paths converge.”

                Marr strained to catch the nuances being projected from the machine. His aides helped, as they caught the projections, turned them, magnified them, altered, then passed them to Marr with their interpretations.

                Shauna followed these somewhat imperfectly, the multiplicity proving a little confusing to Ruth.

                ((Convergence – concur. Understand Treaty concept. Advisable for both. Your offer?))

                “We desire access to your research data, in exchange for providing you with our valuable research data.”

                ((Elaborate))

                “In exchange for your knowledge of resonance armor and weaponry we will supply you with our research into fusion power, superlubricants and shard weaponry.”

                ((Unacceptable. Resonance gift requires advanced spaceflight knowledge sharing))

                “Alas, my dear Judaa, we have not yet researched this science.”

                There was a perceptible coolness descended over the aliens, evidenced by their body language.

                Marr was clacking his mandibles, and the agitation was mirrored in his entourage.

                ((Discussion ended. No Treaty))

                He made as if to arise.

                Yang was discomfited.

                “Conqueror Marr. Have I offended you in any way? If so, forgive me. We are unused to Progenitor ways. How can we get our negotiations back on track?”

                ((No dissembling, Chairman Yang. Advanced Spaceflight knowledge you have. Not applied as your war drains you of time to build. Treaty requires you share all human knowledge with Progenitors.))

                how in Chiron’s name did he know that we had surreptitiously developed advanced spaceflight? They either have incredibly talented spies or ….. of course… the Shauna woman. She’s playing a double game. exactly, dear Chairman. Don’t forget our bargain. The Leader’s Horde and Fellowship City to revert to The Believers. I am in your mind and in Judaa’s. So negotiate fairly. I am your conscience in this drat you Shauna. OK.

                “Excuse my forgetfulness, Conqueror. As we have not deployed our knowledge I had not considered it completed research. For this degree of intimacy between our peoples, we would need to become Pact Brothers. And if we share this knowledge, in return, Progenitors will….?”

                ((We will place an 8 weapon/8 armour resonance garrison in each of your ten bases. We will supply four Mark II Ogres for your most valuable bases’ defense. Treat them well, and use judiciously, as we do not possess the power nor the knowledge to effect repairs on them.))

                “Acceptable”

                ((Acceptable))

                “Then, Judaa Marr, we great you as pact brothers.”

                ((Pact Brothers, yes. Commence knowledge share.))

                Shauna said to Yang: “Touch forearms – it signifies agreement.”

                Chairman Yang stood up, as did Judaa Marr. Each extended a right forelimb, and touched.

                “May our paths converge to glory,” said Yang.

                ((Courage: to Conquer)) resonated Marr.

                They went their separate ways.


                [This message has been edited by Googlie (edited January 27, 2000).]

                Comment



                • Sparta Command

                  Santiago called Foreman Domai in advance.

                  “Planetory Council meetings dealing with extraordinary resolutions are settled on a one faction-one vote basis, unlike elections which are population weighted. We meet holgraphically. have you the necessary technology?”

                  “Yes. It may be balky, but it will suffice. I would not like to be present by commlink only. What is the procedure?”

                  “As I called the meeting, I will set the background, then ask for a vote. As the newest member you will vote first, then by leader alphabetically. I vote last. Oh, and as Planetary Governor I have a veto. Which obviously I will not be exercising in this instance as I am proposing the motion.”

                  “I understand,” said Domai.

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

                  “This Council meeting will now come to order.

                  “Earlier today, as was reported correctly in MorganNews, our hydroponic satellite was destroyed by a spacecraft that suddenly appeared in our environs. In fact, it was one of almost ninety that appeared and were picked up by our radar sweeps. CEO Morgan has confirmed from the sweeps of the Morgan satellite.

                  “A strange message was broadcast to us, which after some effort our scientists have deciphered:

                  "humans: Spartan: contravention of: Tau Ceti accords. Only Choice: death."

                  “The translation is at best speculative. For example, we cannot be sure that they knew of our identity, but our experts say that faction identification was indicated.

                  “Regardless, there is now an external threat to humankind that I am convinced we must unite to meet. With this conviction, and in this spirit I say let us cease immediately our internal squabbles and establish a pact of humankind to meet this alien threat. If we allow them with their undoubted power to pick us off individually, that is exactly what will happen. However, if we present a united front, and unleash the power of our research on a collaborative basis, we will surely be victorious.

                  “I propose a Pact of Planet. Unite under my leadership to see off this threat.

                  “How vote you?

                  “Foreman Domai, how do you vote?”

                  “As the newest invite to this Council I thank you for the recognition you have accorded our faction. We of course are concerned with the future of humankind and with the opportunities afforded the working person and cherish the freedom we have won. We have fought too hard to lose it against an alien foe through our own divisive stupidity. I vote to pact, and would be happy to have our combined forces led by the redoubtable Colonel.”

                  Domai sat down just a little red faced, which the holo projection and display did nothing to alleviate.

                  “Lady Skye, how do you vote?”

                  “Pactsister, I agree with your assessment of this threat. I vote for pacting, and burying the hatchet with each other. And we would be willing to follow your lead. I vote Yay.”

                  “Chairman Yang? Oh, yes, I have a notification that he is in transit from a prior appointment and will join us in session. CEO Morgan?”

                  “My dear Colonel, I too was aghast when the radar sweep images were downloaded and I saw the extent of the threat. And allow me to pass on my condolences to the families of the 64 gallant young men and women who had their lives so brutally terminated. Much as it pains me to break bread with the Chairman, there comes a time when a greater need must prevail, and this is it. I vote for a common pact and would be honoured to serve in your Planetary Government. I vote Yay.”

                  “Thank you, CEO Morgan. And I will ensure that the families of the deceased are apprised of your concern.

                  “Of course, I vote Yay on behalf of the Spartan Federation.

                  “Commissioner Lal. Although we are officially in Vendetta, not a shot has been fired, and I hope none will. Neither I nor the Spartan Federation bear you or your people the slightest ill-will. Your maintaining of the original principles of the United Nations mission is an example we should all follow, and what better than to invoke it for the purposes of securing the future of the human race? How do you vote?”

                  “Colonel Santiago. Although I shall never forgive you – or your hotheaded generals – for their attempt on my life, I am encouraged by your desire to restore the original mandate of the United Nations in such unequivocal terms. I second the motion that we should form a common pact for humanity – with one rider. That we unite under my civilian leadership and your military leadership. With this proviso, I vote Yay”

                  Santiago thought for just a moment. With Lal, they were secure. Without Lal the future was questionable. And what really did “civilian leadership” mean. Nothing without the military might to back it up. She responded:

                  “That is acceptable to me, but this proviso needs a further vote:

                  “That we unite in a Human pact under the joint leadership of myself, militarily, and Commissioner Lal, on civilian matters.

                  “Foreman Domai?”

                  “Yay”

                  “Lady Deirdre?”

                  “Yay”

                  “CEO Morgan?”

                  “Yay”

                  “Then it is unanimous – ah, I see Chairman Yang has joined us.

                  “Chairman Yang. We have entertained a motion and held a vote – which was unanimous by all present, that we bury our differences and unite in a common Pact to fight off the alien menace. Commissioner Lal would lead the civilian government and I would head its military. How do you vote?”

                  There was a long pause as the holo image of Chairman Yang seemed to sweep round them all. Then he spoke:

                  “I am willing under the following condition:

                  “We restore the balance of power to dayone 2225 status through the return to The Hive of those bases stolen, captured or subverted over the last ten months. I will likewise return to the original factions any bases we have conquered. Do this, and I will ally with you.”

                  Santiago’s eyes were icy cold as she gazed out from the holovision.

                  “Chairman Yang. I am prepared to put aside our differences in the interests of a common front against an overwhelmingly powerful alien force. Notwithstanding your deployment of Planetbusting missiles against us. But I will not see wasted the sacrifices made by our and our allies’ soldiers and citizens to see those liberated citizens returned to the squalor and repression you represent. Your condition is unacceptable.”

                  The holographic figures of Domai, Deirdre, Morgan and Lal could be seen nodding in emphatic agreement.

                  “Then go to hell, Colonel. You will regret – all of you – this rejection of my olive branch.”

                  The holograph of Yang flickered out.

                  Comment


                  • closure, 0.9

                    Archon was stranded out in the wilderness, thrown out of the consciousness like a worn out peice of machinery. He realized that that's all that he had become, at that point. Machine. He sat in a fungus bed and looked at his probe uniform. Sleek. Black. It was all he knew. Frustrated, he howled and began ripping his uniform off. Aki's probes, it turned out, did not eliminate emotions, merely repressed them. As each one shut down it supression functions, Archon became more and more enraged.

                    what have i done to myself? The rear half of his skull glinted in the light as the twin suns set in the west. From the base of his skull, a metallic set of vertibrae worked its way down his back. His shoulder and left arm were endoskeletal framework. His forearm was flesh down to his hand, but it was horrifying to not be able to feel between his elbow and shoulder. Due to what was said to be structural integrity concerns, his ribcage was replaced with ceramite beams. The artistry of the the work was exceptional, but on a cold day, it just didn't feel right.

                    Archon felt his face. For the first time, he realized that an eye had ben replaced with a somewhat bulky bionic one. For a moment, he contemplating ripping it out, but with nighttime coming, he quickly decided against it. Now, while much calmer, he could take in his surroundings.

                    Archon was quite a ways from anywhere and because he was not linked to anyone's network, he was hopelessly lost in a fungal forest. A xenotoad hopped up to his foot and inspected it. Archon sighed. Alpha Prime had already set and its companion was on its way.

                    A feeling of dread washed over Archon. this could be only one thing... He turned around and saw lone locust of chiron trying to spook him. He reached out, and the locust landed in his hand. you're an ugly little bastard, but in a way, you're kind of cute. The locust appeard to be confused by the change of emotion. It took flight and began to buzz away. Archon watched it as it flew away. pathetic. not even a locust of chiron will stay with me.

                    The fungus began to heave. Mindworms erupted out of the ground and flew at archon. He relaxed and for once was at peace with himself. if this is the way it must be, then i will not force it.

                    The boil engulfed him, but left him unharmed. Archon could feel the sensation of movement, but was unaware of speed or direction. He could feel a great urgency, but also a relative peace.

                    Not knowing what else to do, Archon sat back and enjoyed the ride.

                    Comment


                    • closure, 0.8

                      system uplink...
                      .
                      ..
                      ... welcome, archon.


                      >>you have done well, Archon. what else have you to report?

                      (( i am assuming that you have been informed of the alien presence above planet. ))

                      >>yes. i have.


                      The two sat in silence for a moment. Archon was amazed that Aki had asked him for a child. The biological urge to reproduce was far stronger than any of her devious implants. He thought for a moment of the cybernetics. Much of his skull had been replaced with machines. Ambient light glinted off of the projection of his arm, which had also been replaced. Being uplinked was more thrilling than he could have dreamed, at first. But now he was bored with it. Everything was artificial here. The lighting was totally false. Every object was perfectly illuminated from every angle. Taste and smell were irrelevant, while uplinked. Textures were not accurate, as if they were someone's distant recollection of what something felt like. All in all, it was a miserable existence.

                      But there was no going back at this point. Eventually, he would not care, but that might take some time.

                      >>you regret joining us.

                      ((i made the decision on a spur of the moment. my emotions had overwhelmed me.))

                      >>yet you force yourself to stay.

                      ((i have sworn my allegiance to you. i will not betray another who trusts me.))

                      >>your guilt seems to be a powerful emotioin with you. however, it makes you weak. that is a liability that we cannot have. because you have given us so much, you will be allowed to leave, after you have given me a child. our doctors can take care ouf the nescesary preparations. we think that this is ample reward for the services you have provided.


                      download to humanform: Archon

                      Comment


                      • Sparta Command

                        Corazon sat back, contented.

                        Maybe not Supreme Leader, but close. Even if sharing power with the vacillating old fart, Lal. That won’t last long she thought.

                        But now it was debt paying time.

                        She dialed CEO Morgan.

                        “Nwabudike, how are you. Thank you for your support.”

                        “Ah, my dear Corazon. Think nothing of it. It was the right thing to do. Besides, we had a deal.”

                        “Indeed. And that is what I’m calling about.

                        “Effective midnight tonight we shall return Communal Conquest, formerly Morgan Pharmaceuticals to you as well as Ruby Ridge Memorial, formerly Morgan Processing, and likewise you will return Morgan Complex, formerly Plex Anthill to us. This latter arrangement – Processing for Anthill – was originally temporary anyway to forestall Yang’s nuclear ultimatum.

                        “My spies report that the Chairman is planning to evacuate Bank Collective imminently as he deems his continued hold on it somewhat tenuous after the subversion of Conquest. If you need any assistance in reclaiming bank, don’t hesitate to ask.”

                        “Why thank you, Corazon. I don’t think that will be necessary. Lady Deirdre has already offered – and I have accepted - the assistance of four of her finest mindworms to help in the recovery of Bank. They may already have arrived at our staging areas. My advisers and I felt that the populace had suffered enough already without imposing another firefight on their territory, so we elected to launch a psi attack instead.

                        “Oh, and by the way, it appears that the third alien ship has departed as well. Our satellite intercepted a transmission from planet to it, but were unable to decode it – probably the Chairman trying to make contact I imagine, to further his own nefarious ends. It was uncanny how our radar sweeps detected the ninety ships becoming three, and then one as the two suddenly left. And now they are reporting that the one is gone as well.”

                        “Well, Nwabudike, thank you again for concealing the fact that the threat was much diminished. The scare was enough to get the factions united, even if we have to listen to Pravin’s prattle every now and again.”

                        “Now Corazon, he means well. And besides, I have an idea that will appeal to him and take him out of harm’s way for a couple of months.”

                        “Share, esteemed CEO, share?”

                        “Patience, my dear. I’ll explain my plan when I am sure it can be done. It is theoretically possible, but let me make sure of some details then I will ask your advice on it.”

                        Morgan had a glint in his eye that intrigued Santiago, but she knew that she would get nothing more out of him.

                        “Well, if there is nothing more…?” she said.

                        “Indeed. We shall effect the transfer of control in two hours then. Goodnight, my dear Colonel.”

                        Smoothie, Santiago thought, clicking off.

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

                        Sea Hive

                        “Then it is agreed?” asked Yang.

                        The two Marshals, Hsui and Ng, nodded their assent.

                        Yang activated the commlink.

                        “Shimoda.”

                        “Yes, Mr. Chairman?”

                        “Delay the transfer of resonance research from the Aliens until after midnight.”

                        “May I ask why, Mr. Chairman? Every second counts in getting our garrison troops upgraded to use the new weapons and armour.”

                        “I would not like it to fall into the hands of the Axis powers,” Yang replied. “We are torching and vacating Bank Collective within the hour, so I want nothing on the datalinks that they can use.”

                        “Understood, Mr. Chairman. I will contact Marr right away. But may I ask, would we not be better off if we dismantle the base facilities progressively before walking away from it?”

                        “In a perfect world, yes. But that would mean delaying further the transfer of resonance knowledge from our allies. No, let us take what we can, and destroy the rest, and evacuate.”

                        “it will be done,” Shimoda replied, and the commlink clicked off.

                        Yang turned to Marshal Ng. “Has Marr left yet?”

                        “No, Chairman. The last I heard he was complaining at how cramped our shuttle is. they have not yet lifted off.”

                        “Are we sure we can dock with his flagship?”

                        “He claims that they have the technology, Mr. Chairman. And besides, it is not our problem.”

                        “We have told him that all three have disappeared from our radar sweeps?”

                        “Yes. He claims that they have cloaking technology that renders them invisible to our ‘primitive’ radar. Says that they are still picking up the resonance echo, or some such thing. They are still there.”

                        Madame Hsui interjected:

                        “And what of the two Believer bases?”

                        “What of them,” Yang replied. “With the witch being spirited away from under our noses she’ll be beholden to Sparta. I’ll only meet Shauna’s demands if she can guarantee neutrality of the Believers. And of course she can’t do that. So ours they will remain.”

                        Yang smiled inwardly. Dreams of reconquest began to form in his mind.

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

                        The Hive

                        Finally seated, Judaa Marr gave himself up to his discomfort.

                        He clutched the controls of the portable resonance sensor array in his talons – he wasn’t exactly sure how he would communicate with the shuttle crew as he expected to have to give directions. He was relying on the starfleet’s ability to tractor the shuttle in when it was close enough.

                        He sat back against the accelerator couch as the shuttle blasted off from the aerospace center.

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

                        Morgan Industries

                        “Launch detected.”

                        The young operative punched in her report.

                        “From The Hive. Signature that of their ferry shuttle to their satellite. Threat status nil.”

                        She sat back. Weird what was happening all of a sudden. And how was it that the Morgan and Hive satellites had been spared – only the Spartan one destroyed. Granted both the others had been on the blind side of Planet when the alien fleet suddenly materialized. But where had they gone. She turned back to her screen.

                        “Alert. Shuttle is not on track for hive satellite. Plotting course.”

                        Suddenly she sat up. A fresh blip had appeared on her screen as the satellite radar swept the subspace.

                        She tracked the flight. It was on an intercept vector with the new signal. Comparing the signatures, she deduced that the new signal was indeed the one they had lost hours ago – the one alien ship that had remained.

                        She thought Yang is rendezvousing with the aliens

                        She alerted CEO Morgan.

                        Comment


                        • Aboard the Planetary Scoutship, 393_s

                          “He’s approaching. Turning command over to you, Sartor,” Sk’aard resonated.

                          “Acknowledged” altered the Chief Engineer. He bent lower over the controls, eyeing the display screen intently.

                          “Low resolution, commence” he resonated softly. The screen lit up as the resonance cannon warmed up.

                          “Tight one and two, disperse three and four,” he altered. “Pulse on my command.”

                          The screen reflected the order as the indicated cannon in the Scoutship’s battery were identified.

                          “Pulse, one tenth, wait.” Sartor resonated. Sk’aard watched anxiously. This was always the most delicate part of the process.

                          The resonance built, and the crew tensed.

                          Sartor rested with his talons poised at the controls. The Hive shuttle came into view.

                          “Now,” Sartor barked.

                          The resonance waves pulsed rythmically from the four cannon. Sartor’s claws flew over the controls as he worked to get the four wave beams focussed and working together. The two lower resonance waves dissipated slowly, losing their focus the further they strung out from the Scoutship, but in doing so created a temporary singularity that attracted the tighter wave to the gravity well it created. Thus the resonance wave curved as it continued outwards from the Scoutship.

                          Sartor was careful as the outer limits of the wave reached the Hive shuttle. His talons nudged the controls to enable the resonance wave to just caress the outer skin of the shuttle, nudging it into the controlled singularity. As it settled, Sartor increased the power and the dispersion field of the three and four cannon, thus accelerating the speed at which the induced gravity well formed and reformed.

                          The shuttle was inexorably drawn towards the Scoutship, to the now open hangar bay doors. When within range of the magnetic field Sartor turned off the cannon to release the resonance tractor and sat back and relaxed, satisfied.

                          “Well done,” Sk’aard resonated. His emanations were captured by the other crewmembers, caught in their flanks, molded and altered and sent back, showing their approbation and appreciation of Sartor’s skill. He raised his head, clacking his mandibles in pleasure and uttered a throaty grunt of acceptance of their praise.

                          “Now let’s welcome Conqueror Marr,” Sk’aard resonated.

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

                          Judaa Marr swept into the command pod of the Scoutship and the assembled senior officers acknowledged his rank as he entered. Each bent low, and turned their heads exposing their necks in obeisance.

                          “Conqueror,” they resonated almost in unison.

                          Marr savored the moment.

                          “I would like some pol,” he resonated softly.

                          “Of course,” Sk’aard altered, inclining his head to an orderly who scuttled off to prepare some of the aromatic tea that Marr had requested.

                          Marr looked around the assembled officers.

                          “Are the other ships cloaked?” he resonated.

                          “No, Conqueror,” altered Sk’aard. “We are alone.”

                          “Alone?” returned Marr. “Our resonance sensors identified three major ships and numerous smaller. Where are they?”

                          Sk’aard altered: “We came with The Impaler and the Scoutship 229_s. When we exited the wormhole we deployed all Gnats in case we encountered a threat. We were preparing to leave when we intercepted your transmission. Fearing a trap by H’minee, Commanders Haart and Krill retreated to the safety of the wormhole and the Sol star system. We will not be able to communicate with them for many turnings until they exit at Sol.”

                          “Ah,” resonated Marr, as the orderly passed the steaming beaker of pol to him. He held it reverently in front of him and then sucked on the drinking tube. “How I have missed civilization,” he continued. “But you were indicating that the fleet has gone to the Sol system?”

                          Sk’aard altered his assent.

                          “That is unfortunate,” Marr altered in return. “I have need of their firepower here. This is the fabled Manifold Six, but I am afraid that it is largely under the control of an alien race. I have befriended one faction of this race, but the others are powerful. Sixty Gnats would have been an overwhelming force. How many have you?”

                          “Ten,” Sk’aard altered. “And twenty Ogres.”

                          ‘Splendid,” Marr altered. “We will have to reinforce the Gnats – their delicate membranes will never survive atmospheric entry nor the heavier gravity of Chiron without supplementing their capabilities. Oh, they’ll complain if they are anything like mine were. But they will need to be buttressed. The Ogres will just need drop pods, and I have brought two of my allied earthhumans with me who will be able to equip the Ogres with the pods.

                          “And there is one other thing. As you know, this race is not entirely primitive. They have learned the secrets of spaceflight, and three of their factions had launched satellites into orbit around Manifold Six. You destroyed one. Our allies have one, and they have given me its co-ordinates. The third must be destroyed.”

                          Sk’aard inclined his neck. “It shall be done,” he altered.

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

                          ‘Ypruss walked softly into the hangar bay with her crewmate, ‘Ygall.

                          Tonc stirred. He sensed the presence of his pilot and weapons officer.

                          greetings ‘Ypruss and ‘Ygall. Are we soaring today?

                          ‘Ypruss didn’t understand the empathetic bond between Gnat and crew, nor did she understand how she and ‘Ygall were in each other’s minds while crewing, but away from Tonc they were as strangers.

                          Yes, my pretty, we have a mission.

                          The whole brood? I cannot sense any other crews, nor are my brethren stirring.”

                          No, a single mission. Are you ready?

                          As always. Will there be danger? Should I prepare my…

                          No. The target is unarmed. It will be a quick execution. You will need only your song of exultation.


                          The crew cockpit peeled back, and the two crew climbed into the command cocoon.

                          Tonc was the pride of the 393_s, officially a Gnat II, the product of the science labs back in the Rim System. Outfitted with the new string disrupter cannon as well as the older resonance bolt cannon, he had both singularity drive and resonance drive engines. He was the only Gnat capable of short wormhole journeys, but had not yet savored the thrill of one.

                          His crew were elite, the best that the 393_s had.

                          He came to life under the skilled talons of ‘Ypruss, as she took the Gnat up above the rest of the recumbent fleet and made her way out to the launch deck. The Hive shuttle was lying tethered in one of the bays.

                          ‘Ypruss guided Tonc to an adjacent bay, and waited for the launch doors to open.

                          Go she resonated inwardly to Tonc.

                          She was activating only the resonance drive at this stage, as the Gnat exited the scoutship, then the singularity drive kicked in.

                          Tonc soared free in a wide, sweeping arc that took him well forward of the scoutship.

                          Immediately ‘Ygall picked up the signals of the Morgan Hydroponic satellite. She had only to think of the co-ordinates in her mind and Tonc was straining to anticipate ‘Ypruss’ command to go there, which was instantaneously given.

                          They came up behind the satellite as it pondorously sailed through space, the huge latticework of kilometer long girders and glass sheltering the hydroponic farms as if they were sails spread to capture the sunlight of Alpha Centauri’s twin suns. Antlike figures could be seen scurrying around the satellite’s superstructure as they became aware of the Gnat.

                          Make it quick, ‘Ygall urged.

                          Agreed ‘Ypruss altered inwardly.

                          Tonc came up from behind and underneath the extended panels. ‘Ygall held her talon ready on the resonance bolt fire toggle.

                          Arm resonance

                          She armed the weapon, and locked on the co-ordinates.

                          Fire

                          The resonance cannon pulsed, and ‘Ypruss and ‘Ygall watched in fascination as the pulse wave reached the spread sails of the satellite. The structural membranes of the sails took the wave, and as each pulse hit began to oscillate, growing wilder with each pulse until the strain on the flimsy structure was too much and the four massive sails disintegrated.

                          ‘Ygall turned her attention to the habitation and control pods, and within a tenth the imploded, but not before a shuttle could be seen exiting as some survivors tried to make a run for Planet’s surface.

                          Catch ‘Ypruss empathed, and Tonc bounded forward as if suddenly let off a leash.

                          The two crew were pressed deep into their acceleration couches as Tonc chased the shuttle, but it was no contest.

                          The shuttle began to glow as it encountered the upper atmosphere of Chiron, streaming an ion trail as it entered.

                          ‘Ypruss felt the pain of Tonc as he wanted to follow, but pulled up short as he skimmed and skipped on the fringes of the atmosphere, membranes glowing and trying desperately to dissipate and discharge the heat.

                          Let them be. It’s my fault. We should have taken out the command modules before the hydroponic farms. Let’s go home

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

                          “Here are the map co-ordinates of our four bases,” Marr resonated. Our ally has a facility in the middle of the landmass we occupy which is given the name by the earthhumans ‘Nessus Canyon’. Insert the Ogres as soon as each had been fitted with the necessary drop pods.

                          “And here are the co-ordinates of the home base of our ally. Drop numbers five and six here before resuming to our bases.”

                          “Conqueror Marr,” altered Sk’aard. “We are all anxious to learn how you came to be here in the first place.”

                          “Another time,” he re-altered. “Over a pot of pol.”





                          [This message has been edited by The_Progenitors (edited January 29, 2000).]

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                          • "The reason we freed you my dear Sister is simple. We are currently at war with the Hive. And although the war is going in our favor we, actually the Junta decided it would a good balancing if we can call it balancing move to free you. Besides it restores more of the original status of Planet" said Santiago. Miriam was speechless. She just stood there dumbfounded. Finally she asked the most unlikeliest of questions.

                            "What year is it ?" she asked. Santiago just looked at her for a moment. Then she answered quickly.

                            "2226" she said. Miriam was again speechless. 2226. Almost 100 years since she had been captured by the Hive. Had it really been that long? All she could remember was searing pain and a bright light. Occassionaly spots of darkness. Patches when she could not remember anything. The Hive must of given her longevity treatments. To prolong their torture and never let her die. Never to go be with the Lord. Truly the Hive was evil.

                            "I can't begin to thank you Colonel" said Miriam. Santiago nodded. Than Miriam spoke again.

                            "Exactly what has happened since I was conquered?" she aksed. Santiago took a deep breath and began.

                            "There are currently six factions on Planet. My faction. The Hive, the Morgans, the Gaians, the Peacekeepers, and a new faction calling themselves the Free Drones" said Santaigo. Miriam broke in.

                            "What of my old nemesis Provost Zakharov?" asked Miriam. Santiago answered with a slight smile.

                            "The Univeristy was conquered by my people years ago. Anyway many wars existed after you dissapeared from the world scene. CEO Morgan ended up pacting with the Hive. However they ended up going to war with each other. We ended up getting sucked into it. And Lady Deirdre rarely escaped being crushed by Yang's armies" said Santiago. Miriam breathed a long sigh. Things had gone down the tubes since she had left. Finally she spoke in a whisper.

                            "So I get a new chance" said Miriam. Santiago nodded. Than she spoke.

                            "But please Sister. Come to Sparta Command. Our door is open. I'm sure it would do you good after your harrowing experience" said Santiago. Miriam thought about this for a moment than answered.

                            "Very well Colonel I will accept your hospitality. Again my unending thanks for freeing me from Chairman Yang's tyranny" said Miriam. Santiago nodded and flickered out leaving Miriam alone with the officers in the bare room.

                            - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

                            The Leader's Horde

                            Matthias Linder stepped down from his computer console. His white talent robe flowed around him as he handed a datapad to the Watcher standing next to him. The man nodded and walked out of the room. Linder breathed a sigh of relief. Although he was a talent he still got jumpy around Hive police. Just like a drone. Linder was part of the large ex-Believer population here at The Leader's Horde.

                            "Matt over here" called his working partner Ruth MacLeod. Linder walked over to her. She was hunched over a computer screen looking at the readout. Finally she pointed to it and spoke.

                            "Look at this it shows that security has been breached at Sea Hive. Our new capital. According to this Sister Miriam is mysteriously missing from her sphere" said Ruth. Linder frowned and spoke.

                            "Only intelligence oficers are supposed to read this. Do you know what would happen if you were to be caught?" asked Linder in a worried voice. Ruth rolled her eyes and spoke.

                            "They would kill my family and dump me in a sphere until I rot. Come on Matt. Yang does this all the time. It's something we live with. Besides my family would be better off in Heaven than in this wretched hole" she commented. Obviously she had lost her fear of Punishers. Either that or she hid it very well.

                            "Besides Sister Miriam is gone. She could of been freed by another faction. That means soon we could be Believers again. Not Hive slaves. Think of it Matt" she said. Linder stepped back in shock. If Miriam really was free than she could free them. All of them would be free to worship together in peace. Unthreatened by Hive Punishers. He nodded and turned back his console. In the meantime maybe he could find out more.

                            Comment


                            • Bank Collective

                              Seng Hsui led his detachment across the neatly laid out farm fields to the west of Bank Collective to the river’s edge. The inflateables were there, ready for the short trip downriver to the waiting transport at the mouth of the delta.

                              The dismantling of the Hybrid Forest infastructure had gone smoothly, netting 120 credits to the Hive coffers, and Seng and his troops had been given the task of implementing “Scorched Earth” – the destruction of all remaining base facilities.

                              A curfew had been declared, and was being largely observed.

                              Seng had not completely complied with the orders he had received. His defense, at the inevitable court martial, would be that he had insufficient explosives to carry out the orders in their entirety.

                              destroy all base enhancements before evacuating it had said. But Seng had reviewed the base’s infrastructure, and determined that the populace had suffered enough from the nervegas attacks. He spared the Childrens’ Creche, the Rec Commons, the Holo Theatre and the Hab Complex, as they were designated curfew control areas, where the population would be gathered in observance of the curfew. He did wire with explosives the Recycling Tanks, the Energy Bank, The Network Node, The Tree Farm and the Research Hospital.

                              As they climbed aboard their inflateables, they heard from the base center the THAWOCK, THACRUMP, THAWOCK of the explosives detonating as the Base facilities were systematically destroyed.

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

                              Henry Manville sat in the Rec Commons Administrator’s Office with his head in his hands, trying to drown out the noise of the explosions from the public buildings around him, and thinking of his failure..

                              His failure was in not negotiating with Seng Hsui the saving of the Research Hospital. It had been Bank’s pride and joy in the Morgan days, a hotbed of innovation and applied research that spurred the technology advances of the Morgan faction. And now it was being reduced to a pile of rubble.

                              Wearily he picked up his commlink, and dialled.

                              “CEO Morgan’s Office. How can I be of assistance?”

                              “To whom am I speaking?” Henry asked.

                              “Nightshift watch, Senior Manager Evans, here. And you are?”

                              “Acting Governor Henry Manville of Morgan Bank.”

                              “Morgan Bank? What do you mean?”

                              “The Hive have evacuated the base. The Morgan standard is again displayed from our towers. We need a garrison sent quickly before unrest breaks out – but I fear the will of the people has been crushed somewhat. But send a unit quickly.”

                              “We will despatch a Penetrator wing immediately. And a garrison unit will follow. And good work, Henry. I’ll make sure that CEO Morgan calls you on his return from dinner.”

                              Henry Manville began the task of restoring order to the base, again renamed Morgan Bank


                              [This message has been edited by Googlie (edited January 30, 2000).]

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                              • Velvetgrass Point

                                I sat in the observation deck of the Velvetgrass Morgan Metropole, looking over the base from its sub-penthouse suite. The Metropole had been built in the last six months, harnessing Morgan wealth with Gaian industriousness.

                                It was typical Gaian architecture, a four hundred feet high tower, simulating a giant tree trunk, with the habitation discs arrayed every fifty feet or so, spiraling about three quarters of the circumference. The Metropole had eight such discs, and the suite that Lady Deirdre has reserved for me during my recuperation was on the topmost, at the 400 foot level.

                                Each suite had a bedroom, lounge, small kitchenette, and balcony, which could be fully or partially enclosed at the occupant’s discretion. Heaters and oxygenators were standard for the luxury suites to allow guests to luxuriate outdoors without breathers, although the Gaian ecological sensitivity had ensured that their territory was as earthlike as could be imagined.

                                Each disc had three levels of apartments for the topmost and secondary discs, four for the lower six. The suites were staggered so that one deck was not right on top of another, offering a measure of privacy to the occupants.

                                I was fidgeting. Anastasia sat on a lounger to one side, and Deirdre sat across the small coffee table from me. We had a small tray of delicacies on the table – some iced shrimp, toasted krill pieces, and a nutty flavored dip from local trees. I was sipping my favorite beverage – fungal gin, with its aromatic flavor reminiscent of a peaty malt. Deirdre and Anastasia both had small glasses of a distilled spirit that to me tasted vaguely like a kirsch, better suited in my opinion as an after dinner drink, but refreshing enough with ice and water.

                                We were discussing politics, of course, and in particular, the necessity of the Coalition adopting policies that would be a beacon for the Hive citizens to aspire to.

                                Anastasia was on her hobbyhorse:

                                “How can any faction that calls itself enlightened, democratic, even, continue to keep my grandfather locked up – and in a punishment sphere at that? To a quarter of its citizens Sparta is no better than the Hive, and Santiago just as evil and bloodthirsty as Yang.”

                                “She has a point, you know, Scott,” said Deirdre. “I love Corazon like a sister, and owe her a lot, but she has this glaring character flaw that she has a mean and vindictive streak. And this gets fed by her Generals and Admirals – even her Air Force commanders,” she said, giving me a pointed look. “They play on her paranoia and she always gives in to her darker side.

                                “I mean, what would Sparta lose if they freed the Professor? He’s been in forced rejuvenation, and presumably has not lost his faculties, and his people have never been fully assimilated into Spartan society, have they?” she asked, looking over at Anastasia.

                                “Indeed not,” she replied. “ And that’s just my point. We are no threat militarily, and our natural bent would be to side with the Coalition anyway. So free him, and send him to Fort Superiority, and then watch as the full research capability of our scientists gets unleashed in the cause of freedom.”

                                “And it’s only a matter of time until we can restore Sister Miriam to the Believers, and they can get at least two bases back under their banner.

                                “And what do you make of these Drones – the Free Drone faction started by Domai?” asked Deirdre. “I’ve had the opportunity of talking with him on two or three occasions – he seems quite levelheaded, although a bit idealistic on workers versus management issues. And what about this Alpha Prime base out on the Peacekeeper’s border with Sparta. Didn’t that used to be the military research center for Sparta?”

                                “Indeed it did,” I replied. “It’s amazing that these half human half cyborgs could exist right under our noses without us ever finding out. And you say that Stazi and I were briefly in their control?”

                                “Yes,” Deirdre replied. “And apart from the odd sentence construction, you would never have known any different.

                                “But talking of different, what are your plans now?”

                                Indeed. I had long pondered this in my convalescence. What was I going to do now? Surely I was far too young to be considered an ambassador, even at my new “age” of forty. And my flying skills were eroding, but not to the extent that I couldn’t reclaim them. My administrative skills were excellent, and my political skills, I thought, were unmatched. But of no use to Sparta, discredited as I was in the eyes of my fellow junta members. What could I do?

                                “I thought of offering myself to Pravin Lal as a Coalition Chief Executive Officer,” I joked.

                                Deirdre floored me with her reply:

                                “I think that would be a splendid idea. Corrie has unshakeable faith in your judgement, as have I, and you are well respected by Mwabudike as well. And Pravin has known you for …. 200 years or so. You and he go back as long as you and I. Even Yang respects you. And Pravin needs to visit the rejuvenation tanks for a month – as indeed do I – and we need to rest assured that the civilian administration of the coalition is in good hands. And none better than in yours.”

                                “Lal would never agree,” I replied. “Besides, I can’t see him taking a month off to rejuvenate. That would set him back to … 40 or so. No, he prefers the tinkering treatment every five years or so. You couldn’t coerce him to be absent for a full month.”

                                “Oh, I think he could be persuaded,” said Deirdre, a twinkle in her eye.

                                “How?” Anastasia asked.

                                Deirdre tapped the side of her nose with her forefinger. “A little bird told me that CEO Morgan has just prototyped The Cloning Vats, and his scientists have reported cloning a complete human from a strand of hair.”

                                “So?” I asked.

                                “Don’t you see?” Deirdre asked impatiently, scrunching her face up in frustration at my stupidity. “He carries around with him a lock of hair from his beloved Pria. If Morgan technology is as good as claimed, then he could shortly have a vibrant Pria by his side again. She was in her early thirties, so he’d want to be slightly older. Mwabudike’s going to invite him to use Morgan’s rejuv tanks for himself and the cloning vats for Pria during their next conversation.”

                                “And you?” I asked.

                                “He has already offered, and I have accepted. I want first to dedicate a new base, at the site of the one he destroyed these years ago, and that will be next week. After that, I’ll take advantage of his offer. There’s never a good time, but now is as good as any. It will take some time for the coalition to get its act together, and it will also take some time for us to collectively evaluate this alien threat. After that, there may be no opportunity. So I have recalled Shannon Lindly from the space reclamation program to come here and head up the government in my absence. You’d be a good mentor for her if you have an executive role in the coalition.

                                “If you truly are interested, I’ll speak to the others and we’ll make it happen.”

                                I looked over at Anastasia, the love of my life.

                                “What do you think, Stazi?” I asked. “How would you like to live at UN Headquarters for a while?”

                                She looked at me shrewdly. She knew how important this opportunity was to me – how it would give my life purpose again. And she knew her bargaining power. If she refused, then I would too. She took advantage of this leverage.

                                “Release my grandfather, and I will come with you. If he is kept in custody, then I would find it impossible to live with the Chief Executive of a repressive regime.”

                                I looked over at Deirdre, who was smiling wryly.

                                “I’ll talk to Corrie right away,’ she said.


                                [This message has been edited by Googlie (edited January 31, 2000).]

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