“There’s a good explanation for this,” says Templeton.
“I’m all ears,” says Lord Danak.
“I’m for drinks first,” Tara suggests. “Rhybaa and tonic anyone?”
Templeton, Danak and Erich accept the drink. Lady Magdelaine declines. “I want to keep my senses sharp,” she says. “I have the feeling that an emergency could arise at any moment.”
“Very wise,” says Templeton. “The truth is, that’s probably right.”
“Spill.”
“All these threads…the blackouts, the assassination attempts…they lead to enemies known and unknown, like CenGov, Tellick, the Frangfrangians, SSOps…but there’s something beyond them that I and Us can’t see. Something holding the strings. We can’t see it directly, but every now and then, we catch a shadow, a menacing shadow. It’s terribly disturbing. So certain things have been forced…certain elements put into play long before I and Us ever anticipated needing them. The discovery of the root ball. The Ophion Archon. Our continuing effort to collect the sparks and emanate in totality. Collecting the sparks would mean the completion of the master plan for the final seed. Total emanation would mean that every part of Ashtara’s energy would have some path to conscious expression.”
“What do you mean, the final seed?”
“I and Us doesn’t like the term ‘final form.’ Trees never stop growing. It just means that no additional elements will be added. In any case, all of this is an attempt to increase His raw power and reasoning ability significantly. We have to see the source of the shadow.”
“I think I might need another drink. This is seriously an ‘Ash can’t see it coming,’ and not an ‘Ash is hiding something from the emanations’ kind of thing?”
“It’s not something being hidden from the emanations. I know what that feels like, believe me. I should mention that we’re not certain it’s a big problem. What’s so upsetting is that we have no conception of the threat’s magnitude at all. If it’s something the trees can’t sense, something beyond their understanding of time as spherical instead of a one-way line, then it must be something from outside of this universe, something beyond spacetime as we know it. The one thing we’re fairly certain of, if not positive, is that it’s targeting us.”
“No matter how hard we try, it seems impossible to establish a lasting peace,” Danak laments.
“Of course, it is,” says Ta’al Erich. “Right now, the power of the Matriarch is unprecedented in human history. In terms of economy and technology, we’re starting to approach the level of Earth at its height. Ashtara is constantly expanding and consolidating. We’re fools to think that it could continue unopposed. Humans are greedy and envious by nature.”
“That’s a cynical world-view,” retorts Danak.
“Cynical, but probable,” Tara replies. “I’ve just never been able to understand wanting more than you can use, and resenting the talents of others only underscores your own insecurities.”
“So says the ruler of all humanity, who is continually increasing her empire.”
“Do you honestly think that I want to rule more worlds? It’s just that sometimes it’s politically expedient, especially when we have goals we need to accomplish.”
Ta’al Erich waves a dismissive hand. “It’s because you’re ambitious, extraordinarily ambitious, and so is Ashtara. I don’t count that as a failing – I count it as a virtue. Your failings are that you are neither greedy nor envious, which means that you continually underestimate the power of greed and envy to motivate others. Worse still, because Ashtara uses you as his template, he makes the same mistake.”
“How can you say she’s not greedy?” asks Lady Magdelaine. “Do you know how many husbands she’s up to?”
“That’s not greedy, it’s lusty,” says Ta’al Erich with a grin.
“Right now, I’d rather work on drunk,” Tara says, pouring herself more rhybaa. “Templeton, what’s the plan? I assume that there is one.”
“We’ll be swapping emanations so that Mickey can keep an eye on the situation with SSOps. Once that’s cleared up, you’ll be needed in the pleroma.”
Templeton’s instincts are good. Shortly after I’m emanated, I get a message from Cara the Arrow. “We have good news and bad news. The good news is that two of our agents have turned themselves in. One went to her superior officer last night, and another showed up at the T’tlvinin Maximum security facility asking to be arrested.”
“Have them brought here, and I’ll interrogate them myself. What’s the bad news?”
“Six other agents are dead. Three of them home in bed, one working out at a local gym, one getting fried sushi at a Volparnian take-out, one walking his dobergator. All were perfectly healthy. We’re conducting an examination, but…”
“The chips. Could some kind of death code be built-in?”
It’s done on a regular basis for high-level CenGov security people, says X’khaim. The probable reason the ones who turned themselves in are alive is that prison facilities are shielded against outside broadcasts.
“Concerning my last order – when those agents are transported, make certain that they’re in transmission shielded areas at all times. The slightest slip-up and they could be dead.”
I get Tara up to speed and arrange to meet with Zosim. “Given what X’khaim told you, it seems we’ve got the proof to implicate CenGov,” Tara says.
“Not necessarily. Because it is a known tactic, it could be a frame-up, and it’s an obvious solution for anyone employing chipped spies.”
Zosim takes us to an interrogation room used by the Eirelantran station police. For reasons that should be apparent, we don’t want to use the rooms in the SSOps division branch. “Are you certain it’s all right to bring Her Eminence?” he asks.
“If the traitors have any means of concealing a weapon, I’ll find it,” I assure him.
“And what if it’s coated with nul-matter?”
“If I’m looking carefully, I’ll be aware of a shadow area I can’t see into. We could’ve found the chips with a complete medical scan, but a routine security scan won’t pick them up – the anomaly is too small.”
Mickey, how often do agents get a complete medical scan? asks Solomon.
I see where he’s going with this. “Zosim, let’s pull the medical files on all the dead agents and on these two. We’re going to see how much time they had.”
“What do you mean?” asks Tara.
“Yearly medical scans,” I reply. “Whatever they were trying to accomplish, they had to finish it before one of them came due for examination.” I pull up the files on the two prisoners and hand my datapad to Tara.
“Ugh,” she says, scanning the records, “this H’sharr Kolemun looks like a real piece of work.”
“She’s one of the most brutal agents we have. But I’m shocked about Benarr Kenrai. He was in line for promotion.”
She nods. “His record looks spotless. That contradicts our theory about motivation – this is a person who you might’ve taken into your entourage.”
“I can’t believe he didn’t know that,” I reply. “To blow his chance at immortality seems stupid.”
“How about the dead agents?”
“Slimy little weasels and power trippers, all of them.”
“Let’s talk to Kenrai first.”
That was my idea exactly.
We’re met by one of Zosim’s most trusted officers, Captain Mandy Jespera. And a contingent of Dolparessan honor guard waiting on standby in the corridor. “Is this really necessary?” Tara complains.
“Mostly for show,” I reply. “If I can’t handle it, they can’t.”
“Leslii Hauntan was due for her medical exam in 47 days,” Jespera tells me. “But that doesn’t mean anything. They might have been planning to remove the chip.”
“Doubtful. These chips have been receiving the standard amount of propaganda. If Hauntan had her chip removed, she probably would’ve realized…”
“Either they’d planned to get her out of there before the medical exam, or they planned that she’d be dead,” Tara finishes.
The room is bare, only a table and a few chairs. It’s modern and professional, unlike the interrogation rooms at Court Emmere, which display a wide variety of Nu-Medieval torture instruments. Cillian likes that better – says it’s nicely intimidating, but I prefer the minimal route.
Kenrai is already seated at the opposite side of the table. He looks surprisingly composed.
“Lieutenant Kenrai, I’m going to cut right to the chase,” I begin. “We know what happened. What we want to know is why it happened. Why did you throw away a promising career? Surely it’s not because you feared you would be left unprotected.”
“I assume I can speak freely before Her Eminence? It’s not because I feared I’d be left out of immortality. It’s because everyone else is.”
Zosim and Jespera exchange surprised glances. This isn’t the answer I’d expected, but given Kenrai’s psych files, it makes sense. He’s an idealist.
“It’s not like I’m trying to be elitist,” Tara says defensively. “We’re doing our best, but there are only so many Cu’enashti. We started the Shambhala Colony to give people a better chance.”
Kenrai sighs, resting his head in his hands. “By Mithras, you really are that short-sighted. Everyone could be immortal tomorrow, it you’d legalize cybridization.”
Zosim steps forward threateningly. “How dare you suggest something so obscene in the presence of the Matriarch?”
“Easy, Captain Zosim,” I say quietly. “Let him talk.”
“You have your answer,” says Kenrai. “I predicted that attitude exactly. I must say, I’m sorry to be right, but that’s how it is. That’s why, when the CenGov agents approached me, I agreed to help them.”
“I knew it!” says Tara. “It’s Gweseki after all.”
“No,” says Kenrai. “It’s not anyone from the government in exile on Memehaven. My contact gave me such an outlandish story that I initially dismissed it. She said they had a base on Earth’s moon.”
“Well,” I murmur, a smile spreading across my face. “It’s a good thing I can smell that you’re telling the truth because I’d think you were feeding me a line of compost.”
“Let’s just toss aside the moral argument,” says Tara. “Even if the heresy laws were repealed, there are economic considerations. Cybridization is expensive. People think of Earth as a world full of robo-freaks, but really, only CenGov’s elite classes were modded. The average person couldn’t afford to be cybridized, and the government couldn’t afford to give it away. The Cu’enashti can do it for free – or for love, which is as good as free.”
He’s hit a sore spot, comments Tarlach, or she wouldn’t be so defensive.
“Look, I’m no fool. I know that they didn’t fairly distribute the technology amongst their own people, and that they claimed the issue was economic, but it was mostly a matter of maintaining a social hierarchy. It’s different here. Maybe everyone couldn’t afford it, but a good portion of the commercial classes could, if they saved up for it. Instead of a retirement plan, they could buy immortality insurance.”
“You’ve thought this through,” I say, a little bit admiringly. I can’t say I approve of his methods, but he’s considered the issue more clearly than Tara.
“All right, let’s not toss aside the moral argument,” says Tara. “Cybridization is disgusting, a violation of human integrity. I’m not the only one who feels that way. Most people feel that way.”
“Patrick says that a survey taken last year indicates 84.7% of the people are in full support of the heresy laws,” I add.
“So much for the economic counter-argument,” says Kenrai. “The attitude against it is so prevalent that most people wouldn’t opt for it. So why not let them have the choice?”
Score. Tara is taken by surprise. She falls back on prejudice. “You can’t trust anyone with a chip!”
“You can’t trust a pure human, either,” counters Kenrai. “How do you know that Jespera over there hasn’t been taken over by a SongLuminant?”
Jespera looks ready to prove she’s not a SongLuminant with her fist, but I shake my head.
“She’d never pass a security check today,” Kenrai continues. “She’s been grandfathered in for long, faithful service. But if she had a telepathic interference chip installed, we’d know immediately if her thoughts were being tampered with.”
“Six agents are dead because of those chips,” Tara snaps. Shit. I’m not sure I wanted him to know that yet. Well, we’ll see how this plays out.
Kenrai smells genuinely surprised.
“How many double-agents were there?” I ask.
“Eight,” Kenrai replies. “Myself, Javris, Kolemun, B’nikk, Hauntan, Ellis, Gokk and Furton.”
“Were you working together?”
“Not really. We were all given separate tasks to accomplish.”
If so, it’s utter stupidity for them to know each other’s identities. Maybe the idea was to get them to believe that their actions were justified because the movement was so pervasive? Still, if only one of them backed out, all the others were done for.
It’s like their handlers wanted them to be discovered.
Like advertising the existence of a leak by using starslick on a ship when you already had superior cloaking technology?
“You and Kolemun are the only ones left alive,” I continue. “The others died after Kolemun confessed her betrayal to Captain Lart. Preliminary investigation reveals a chip malfunction which sent a fatal shock into their brains.”
Kenrai looks depressed. “Then I was right to come here today.”
“You should’ve thought of that before you were chipped,” says Tara.
“Oh, I did. I knew I was being used. Obviously, my life was at risk from either side. You just needed something like this as a wake-up call.”
Now I’m intrigued. “What do you mean?”
“If I’d have openly expressed my displeasure with the social order, it would’ve resulted in a lowered security clearance, nothing more. Am I right? So, at the very least, my act of betrayal means that you’re taking me seriously. If you’re listening at all, it was worth it. Maybe it’s not even a betrayal if it gets Her Eminence to open her eyes to the truth of what is starting to happen.”
“All right, Kenrai,” says Tara. “You’ve paid the price of admission, so you might as well speak your piece.”
“You want people to be patient. But every time somebody dies, they think about the Matriarch living in golden spires with her – I apologize, Commander Riley, but I might as well be blunt – with her alien lover and protector, and they think she’s becoming an alien, too. You don’t see it on Dolparessa, where there are Cu’enashti, or Eirelantra, where you’re surrounded by your retinue. You don’t even see it on Volparnu, where the people are overjoyed at a chance to go to Shambhala because it’s so much better than the shitty world they have. But how do you think it looks to someone in the slums of Dalgherdia, or the deserts of Sideria? How do you think it looks to the aging marquesas and battlequeens of Skarsia, their old glories good for nothing but a reminiscence over a cup of javajuice? And it’s not just that you won’t die – it’s that you don’t even see death anymore. None of your friends will die. How would you feel if you saw somebody close to you dying, and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it?”
Tara is silent. Then she leaves the interrogation chamber.
Kenrai tells me all he knows about his contact on the moon, which isn’t much. He tells me that she was asking for random bits of information, like the formula for starslick, or the number of crystals in the array servicing the city of Marfle. About the only real damage he did was some analysis work for the protests on Dalgherdia, which he refuses to recant since he believes the protestors have a sincere grievance. The interview with Kolemun is much less elucidating, but she basically confirms the details. She was asked for the number of fully human agents still working for the Ipsissimal Guard, and a list of the extended families of our highest-ranking officers – which would take a little bit of digging to find but is a matter of public record.
These were potentially sensitive matters, but… “Did they ask about the nature of any top-secret projects?” Apparently not. I get specific. “Did they ask you to look into research about teleport technology?” No. And finally, to Kenrai, who had a high enough security clearance to be aware of it, “Did they ask about the nul-energy discharge bomb?”
No.
What was the point of embedding eight double-agents into a high security facility, and asking them to report on trivia?
Tara is back in our suite, and heavy into the rhybaa. I can tell she’s upset – when she’s in a good mood, she’ll mix a more complicated drink. “Mickey, this is what X’khaim was trying to tell me, wasn’t it?” she murmurs.
“Probably.”
“It can’t work,” she says. “Remember what Neliit told us? The palimpsest process isn’t true immortality. It creates an artificial intelligence that thinks it’s the original, but the original consciousness is not preserved.”
“If Kenrai knows anything about palimpsests, it’s only from what we’ve said about Rivers in our autobiographies. I don’t think that’s what he meant. On Terra, it was popular to have the flashy Cybrids with all the chrome and lasers, because that proclaimed elite status to the world. Here, those people would be ostracized. Kenrai was probably talking about nanobots. Only you and your doctor would know. Not only can they repair tissue breakdown, but they can also save and rewrite memories, which our regens can’t. It’s a fact that Terran methods are far better in cases of brain damage.”
Tara pours herself more rhybaa, not even bothering with the tonic. “Ew, ew, ew. Just the thought of those things crawling around inside of my body…”
“Let’s take a moment here to meditate on gut bacteria.”
Tara is quiet for a moment. “You know Danak will oppose it. Besides his personal feelings, he’ll say that it’s likely to turn the conservative faction against us.”
She’s actually considering it. Well, how about that?
“Ailann says that the hyper-conservatives will accept it as holy writ if he tells them to. After all, we are in the strange position of having heresy laws that have nothing to do with the official deity of the state. Why would being chipped be an offense against the Archon?”
“Let’s change the subject. What are you going to do about the traitors?”
“There’s still a lot that doesn’t make sense.” I help myself to the rhybaa. “Apparently, they were promised cybridization in exchange for some relatively low-level information. They both claim to know nothing about the assassination attempts during our tour.”
“We can’t just give them amnesty and turn them loose. They know about the nul-shielded chips. That means either we appease them or execute them.”
Tara can be dense about certain things, but she’s not stupid. “We’ve got six dead agents in a group of people who make it their business to find out everything. Word of what happened is going to spread like wildfire. If we’re merciful, it will make malcontents far less likely to defect to CenGov in the future. But it’s also quite likely that the traitors will turn up mysteriously dead – if not at the hands of CenGov, then by vengeful SSOps agents making a point about betraying their own.”
“So, the safest thing would be to return them to the ranks without any mention of this incident in their files. Once the chips are removed, they can’t be killed remotely. Agents are pulled aside for all kinds of confidential business, so there would be no reason for anyone to associate them with the dead agents.”
“I’m not thrilled about that, but it’s probably our best option. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, as they say. Kolemun will be reassigned to a desk job. It’s a good excuse to keep her from breaking any more bones. I have a different idea for Kenrai. A new assignment – a promotion, in fact, as the personal attaché to Ambassador Thoughtful 45.”
Tara starts to giggle. “Thoughtful and Philosophia go through more attachés…the ones who are used to Cu’enashti can’t accept working for an AI, and the ones who will take orders from an AI are frightened by a Cu’enashti. And Philosophia isn’t exactly easy to deal with.”
“My thinking is that if Kenrai makes one wrong move, Philosophia will kick his ass to Jupiter. But he is a good thinker and an ethical man. We might yet have a use for him.”