The Unincorporated Woman (50 page)

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Authors: Dani Kollin,Eytan Kollin

BOOK: The Unincorporated Woman
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“The religious figurehead they brought into the cabinet to keep the fanatics happy?” gasped Irma. “He’s a nutjob.”

Tricia nodded. “That’s what we assumed as well. He seemed a perfect fit because unlike Muslims, Christians and Hindus, his fanatical sect is small in numbers and so that made him a good compromise to represent the so-called Astral Awakening.”

“I’ve been studying the history of these Jews,” piped in Hektor. “They have a reputation of causing trouble throughout history. Everyone from the ancient Greeks to the Europeans of the Union complained about them endlessly. There have been repeated attempts to destroy them and yet, and yet…” Hektor paused.

“And yet what?” asked Franklin, intensely curious.

“And yet they’ve somehow managed to survive.”

Porfirio’s face was grim. “By worming their way into positions of power and influence, it would appear.”

“According to the records,” stated Irma, looking up from her DijAssist, “these Jews seem to have had significant roles in countries that have played a part in major historical events.”

“Oh yes,” confirmed Hektor, “they seem to thrive alright—in chaos. From what
I’ve
read those countries and civilizations they were a part of fell; every one of them. Not that Jews don’t provide some sort of boost, look at the Outer Alliance. But for civilization in general … well,” he scoffed dismissively, “history seems to have judged them quite poorly.”

“The President is correct,” added Tricia. “We have discord, anarchy, even disease in the occupied zones. Zones, I might add, the Rabbi’s people lived in. It should come as no surprise that these Jews have a history of spreading disease and disorder. Can that be a coincidence?”

No one said a word. Not for lack of opinion but rather for lack of any real authority on the topic.

“No,” Franklin charged, “I don’t think it is. In fact, the more I think about it the more this Rabbi appears a rat. Unless you would have us believe that a woman can arrive from the past and with no experience whatsoever start running the Alliance as effortlessly as a fusion generator. Much more likely is Tricia’s suppositon. One man from a group of religious fanatics gets himself into a position of power, which, lo and behold, his people seem to have been doing for millennia. Is it really so hard to believe that Rabbi’s really the X-factor hiding behind the skirt of the Unincorporated Woman?”

“Not at all, Franklin,” agreed Hektor. “In fact, it makes perfect sense. I’d suggest we all keep an eye on this one. And in your copious spare time it wouldn’t hurt to bone up on some reading about these people. A book called
Protocols of the Elders of Zion
seems as good a place as any to start.”

Hektor waited a moment before introducing the next order of business. “I must tell you all that what you’re about to hear will be quite disturbing.” His mouth formed into a straight, stiff line as he looked over to his Minister of Internal Affairs. “Trisha, you may now inform the Cabinet.”

Tricia nodded solemnly, took a deep breath, and then blurted, “The UHF is suffering a reemergence of the VR plague.”

The room exploded with a chorus of disbelief.

“Quiet!” shouted Hektor. “Let her at least finish; then we can all discuss this abomination.”

Tricia tipped her head toward Hektor and continued. “VR’s always been a small but
manageable
problem in the UHF—even with the war causing only a small increase in the number of addicts. Then about six months ago—” Tricia paused just long enough to let the cabinet consider the date’s implications. “—we noticed a sharp upturn in the number of arrests, both of users and suppliers.”

“About the time we started winning the war,” added Irma.

“Exactly. Despite the attention of the Internal Affairs department and a massive but quiet campaign that has resulted in equally massive arrests, I’m sad to report that we’ve been unable to contain this new plague.” Tricia accessed a file, and the image of the solar system disappeared to be replaced by an image of a silver headband attached by a cord to a small box of a popular brand of chocolates. “This is what we’ve found at almost all the arrest sites.”

“Not like anything I’ve ever seen,” said Brenda, staring almost cross-eyed at the holo-image.

“That’s because before six months ago, VR rigs came in all shapes and sizes, but all with the same basic programs—some, centuries old. Then,” added Tricia with some bite to her words, “this thing started showing up. It’s not always disguised as a box of chocolates. Often it’s a DijAssist or a brightly wrapped present or some other easily overlooked item. It is, however, an exceptionally well designed unit that can be reproduced easily and run with a minimum of power. Also the new VR programs are far more complex and, interestingly enough, became available about…” She paused.

“Six months ago,” snarled Porfirio, pinched lips drawn into bloodless white lines across his face. “Bastard Rabbi, fucking Alliance.”

“Are we sure it’s them?” asked Franklin. “Is there any evidence whatsoever leading directly back to the Outer Alliance?”

“None. All the units are manufactured locally from a template that’s been distributed far and wide, but appeared on Luna, Earth, and Mars within twelve hours of each other. The programs keep on appearing at sites around the Neuro for those who know where to look. We believe they were placed simultaneously and are being released according to a schedule, but it’s possible they’re being loaded one at a time. This has all the hallmarks of a cooperative effort by a design team that had the resources, time, and immunity from prosecution that those dabbling in VR have never had … until now.”

“It’s fair in a twisted sort of way, I suppose,” said Irma. “We killed their religious leaders at Alhambra; most of them, that is,” she corrected, “now they go after our souls in the Core. Poetic, really,” she finished without the slightest hint of outrage.

Hektor nodded, bitter irony no stranger to his life. “Irma,” he asked, eyes narrowed in thoughtful contemplation, “what would happen if we released this story?”

“And?” she asked, seeing there was more to be pulled from her boss.

“And we pin it on the Outer Alliance?”

“It would be better if we at least had some evidence of their complicity. This is, after all, a firestorm in the making.”

“Not a problem,” said Tricia as casually as if she were finalizing a work order for latrine parts. “I’ll make as much evidence as you need. Computer records, compromising vids, even confessions. We can do some trials if you’d like—makes great press. But I don’t have to tell you that.”

Irma nodded her approval.

Hektor repeated, “So what would the reaction be?”

“About what you’d expect,” suggested Irma. “Moral outrage and indignation. Bet you’d even see a bump in your already thriving recruitment. The public will seek immediate revenge, of course, and will demand real punishment for those they deem responsible.”

“A desire to strike back and forcefully, yes?” asked Hektor, oddly looking toward Porfirio rather than at Irma.

“Yes. Frankly, I’m not sure if a show trial would be enough. Don’t forget, we’ve all been inculcated from birth to loathe VR and hold especially contemptible those who peddle it. That it’s being foisted on a vulnerable populace during a time of duress makes this crime seem even more appalling.”

Though Hektor’s eyes widened, seeming to revel in her answer, a grim determination remained on his face. “Good, good. Let’s move forward on that, then. As you’ll soon see, it will fit perfectly with the Defense Minister’s plans.”

On cue, Porfirio began his presentation. “It had been assumed that as soon as Gupta’s fleet was organized, he was going to take it to Ceres, where the combined fleets would once again attack the Alliance capital.” He paused as his lips parted, baring a caninelike smile. “But that’s not going to happen.” The holodisplay revealed two distinct fleets with one heading
away
from Ceres. “We’ve split our fleet. Half is at Mars under the command of Abhay Gupta; the rest with Trang and Jackson near Ceres. The thinking is that even though our combined fleet would outnumber the Alliance two to one, attacking Ceres would still have proved disastrous.”

“But I thought we had the numbers to sacrifice?” grumbled Franklin.

“Oh we do, and we’ll use them, but attacking orbital batteries supported by a well-led fleet is an invitation to disaster—no matter what your numbers. At best, we’d be looking at near total destruction for both sides, which would be tantamount to a draw for us. And a draw, given the vast superiority of our numbers in both ships and resources, would go down as a defeat in the minds of the people, shattering much of the goodwill the recent victories have given us.”

“What do you propose to do about Black?” asked Brenda.

“That’s the beauty of the plan. She’s not a factor.”

“She’s always a factor, Porfirio,” Hektor said in mild rebuke. “Never forget that.”

Porfirio bowed slightly in Hektor’s direction. “Of course, Mr. President. Please excuse my exuberance.”

Hektor bowed back, inviting the Defense Minister to continue.

“As it now stands, Admiral Gupta is going to take his fleet—half our effective forces—and boost for Jupiter. Trang and Jackson have orders to wait at Ceres and see what unfolds. When Gupta gets to Jupiter, he’s under orders to destroy as much of the Jovian system’s war-making infrastructure as possible.”

“Excuse me,” said Irma, her face telegraphing confusion.

“Yes?”

“Your holodisplay seems to indicate the eradication of whole settlements.”

“And?” Porfirio asked, waiting impatiently for Irma to get to the point.

Irma’s eyes were fixed on the information now streaming across the mini holodisplay of her DijAssist. “But … hospitals? Schools? I’m sorry,” Irma finally murmurred, “I just … hadn’t realized we were changing…” As the list of civilian targets floating before her continued to swell, Irma was unable to finish her thought.

Hektor came to her rescue. “After your pending revelations about VR, those targets will no longer be off-limits.”

Irma stared at him blankly.

“That,” Hektor revealed, “will be the ‘strike back’ you spoke of earlier.”

Irma nodded, a slightly raised left brow reflecting her acceptance. Hektor then looked around the table at the rest of the Cabinet Ministers. “It is incumbent on all of us, and Irma—” He turned to his Information Minister. “—you especially, to make the UHF understand that every single Alliance citizen is complicit in the heinous crime of bringing the VR plague back into our midst and, as such, is now to be regarded as the enemy. Gupta has been given his orders. He
will
attack any and all settlements that he can find. In fact, see if he’s in range of any fleeing Jewish settlements. There’s no reason why we should not let Rabbi know there’s a price to pay for trying to destroy humanity.” Hektor thought for a moment and smiled, contemplating the justice of the order. “Gupta
will
eliminate everything that can be of use to the enemy, including hospitals, educational institutions—no matter what age the entrants—and homes, especially homes. And with the press coverage about the Alliance’s VR attack on our ‘souls’—” Hektor paused as his lips turned upwards. “—I like that phrase, Irma, make sure you use it—our public will demand nothing less.”

Irma stared numbly as her DijAssist estimated the number of permanent deaths Gupta’s scorched-planet policy would soon bring. It was in the hundreds of millions—numbers far higher than even she’d imagined. Irma had forgotten about the radiation belt around Jupiter. Anyone exposed, even if suspended by the imperfect process of being blown out into space, would suffer permanent death. Her now impassive face did not betray the feeling of uncertainty welling up inside. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced since the death of her friend and coworker, Saundra Morrie, five years earlier.

“Of course,” she responded staunchly.

Porfirio beamed, having been cleared to deliver his master stroke. “If J.D. is at Jupiter, she’ll attack Gupta. Maybe he wins; maybe he loses. But he’s not an idiot, and should be able to make her pay—maybe even get out with some of his fleet intact. But it won’t matter, because with J.D. occupied, Trang can dismantle the orbital batteries around Ceres without interference. Sure, Trang’ll take some losses, but if he does it right, and he will, then Ceres is ours. Or scenario number two. If J.D.
is
at Ceres, then Gupta destroys all Alliance resources at Jupiter, and the rest of the Alliance knows that if the war continues, not only can’t J.D. defend them but it will also cost them
everything
. At
that
point, I think all but the most fanatic will entertain reasonable peace offers—even a Jew.” Porfirio’s smile was ebullient. He was the proverbial cat who’d finally trapped the canary.

“Yes,” agreed Hektor. “But they’ll no longer be generous. That t.o.p. has launched. The citizens of the Alliance have brought this upon themselves.”

Hektor stood. The meeting had come to an end. “If they want to commit suicide by going after the Core Planets, I say, let them.”

 

17 Pack Your Bags
Presidential quarters, Ceres

Sandra O’Toole was awakened from a rare deep sleep by the cacophonous sounds of an antique twin-bell alarm clock. Though the sound emanated from her DijAssist as opposed to the actual article, that didn’t stop her from swatting the small polymer unit off the table with such force as to send it skittering across the Triangle Office floor. Yawning and rubbing her eyes, she grumbled her way across the room, stooped over, and picked up the still clanging cause of her ire. “I’m up! I’m up!” she screamed at the block of plastic. “For the love of God, already!” The ringing ceased.

“I’m not sure,” quipped a voice from behind her, “that even God would put up with so odious a sound as that.”

Sandra whipped around to see Sebastian sitting cross-legged on the couch from which she’d only recently alighted. As was now his wont, he was wearing his OA Intelligence uniform. There was an amiable smile plastered across his face.

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