“But how? What’s going to make them want to come here, to Valisk?”
“We just have to find the right message, that’s all.”
• • •
Even by day, Burley Palace stood aloof from the city of Atherstone; surrounded by extensive parkland at the top of a small
rise, it surveyed the sprawling lower districts with a suitably regal detachment. At night the isolation made it positively
imperious. Atherstone’s lights turned the motorways, boulevards, and grand squares into a gaudy mother-of-pearl blaze which
shimmered as though it were alive. Right in the centre, however, the palace grounds were a lake of midnight darkness. And
in the centre of that, Burley Palace shone brighter than it ever did under the noon sun, illuminated by a bracelet of five
hundred spotlights. It was visible from almost anywhere in the city.
Ralph Hiltch observed it through the Royal Navy Marine flyer’s sensor suite as they approached. It was a neoclassic building
with innumerable wings slotting together at not quite geometrical angles, and five quadrangles enclosing verdant gardens.
Even though it was nearly one o’clock in the morning, there were a lot of cars using the long drive which cut through the
parkland, headlights creating a near-constant stream of white light. Although highly ornamental, the palace was the genuine
centre of government; so given the planet’s current state of alert, the activity was only to be expected.
The pilot brought the flyer down on one of the discreetly positioned rooftop pads. Roche Skark was waiting for Ralph as he
came down the airstairs, two bodyguards standing unobtrusively a few metres behind.
“How are you?” the ESA director asked.
Ralph shook his hand. “Still in one piece, sir. Unlike Mortonridge.”
“That’s a nasty case of guilt you’ve got there, Ralph. I hope it’s not clouding your judgement.”
“No, sir. In any case, it isn’t guilt. Just resentment. We nearly had them, we were so close.”
Roche gave the younger operative a sympathetic look. “I know, Ralph. But you drove them out of Pasto, and that’s got to be
a colossal achievement. Just think what would have happened if it had fallen to the likes of Annette Ekelund. Mortonridge
multiplied by a hundred. And if they’d possessed that many people they wouldn’t have been content to stay put like they are
on the peninsula.”
“Yes, sir.”
They walked into the palace.
“This idea the pair of you came up with. Is it workable?” Roche asked.
“I believe so, sir,” Ralph said. “And I appreciate you allowing me to outline it to the Princess myself.” The notion had evolved
from several strategy reviews he and Colonel Palmer had held during the occasional lull in the frantic two days of the Mortonridge
evacuation. Ralph knew that it contained suggestions which had to be made to the Princess personally. He feared it being diluted
by navy staff analysts and tacticians if he routed it through the correct procedural channels. Smooth minds polishing away
the raw substance to present a sleek concept, one that was politically acceptable. And that wouldn’t work, nothing short of
hundred per cent adherence to the proposal would produce success.
Sometimes when he stood back and observed this obsessional character he’d become he wondered if he wasn’t simply overdosing
on arrogance.
“Given the circumstances, it was the least we could do,” Roche Skark said. “As I told you, your efforts have not gone unnoticed.”
Sylvester Geray was waiting for them in the decagonal reception room with its gleaming gold and platinum pillars. The equerry
in his perfect uniform gave Ralph’s borrowed marine fatigues a reluctant appraisal, then opened a set of doors.
After the opulence of the state rooms outside, Princess Kirsten’s private office was almost subdued, the kind of quietly refined
study a noble landowner would run an estate from. He couldn’t quite make the leap to accepting that the entire Ombey star
system was ruled from this room.
He stepped up to the desk, feeling he ought to salute, but knowing it would appear ridiculous; he wasn’t military. The Princess
didn’t look much different from her images on the news, a dignified lady who seemed to be locked in perpetual middle age.
No amount of discipline was able to stop him checking her face. Sure enough, there was the classic Saldana nose, slender with
a downturned end; which was almost her only delicate feature, she had an all-over robustness of a kind which made it impossible
ever to imagine her growing into a frail old grandmother.
Princess Kirsten acknowledged him with a generous nod. “Mr Hiltch. In the flesh at last.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you so much for coming. If you’d like to sit down, we can start.”
Ralph took the chair next to Roche Skark, grateful for the illusion of protection his boss gave him. Jannike Dermot was eyeing
him with what was almost a sense of amusement. The only other person in the room, apart from the equerry, was Ryle Thorne,
who didn’t appear to care about Ralph’s presence one way or the other.
“We’ll bring in Admiral Farquar now,” Kirsten said. She datavised the desk’s processor for a security level one sensenviron
conference. The white bubble room emerged to claim them.
Ralph found he was sitting to the right of the admiral, down at the end of the table away from the Princess.
“If you’d like to summarize the current Mortonridge situation for us, Mr Hiltch,” Kirsten said.
“Ma’am. Our principal evacuation operation is now finished. Thanks to the warnings we broadcast, we managed to lift out over
eighteen thousand people with the planes and Royal Navy transport flyers. Another sixty thousand drove up the M6 and got out
that way before the motorway failed. The sensor satellites show us that there are about eight hundred boats carrying refugees
which are heading up to the main continent. Our priority at the moment is to try and take people off the smaller ones, which
are desperately overcrowded.”
“Which leaves us with close to two million people stranded in Mortonridge,” Admiral Farquar said. “And not a damn thing we
can do about it.”
“We believe most of them are now possessed,” Ralph said. “After all, Ekelund’s people have had two days. And those that aren’t
possessed will be by tomorrow. We keep running into this exponential curve. It’s a frightening equation when it’s translated
into real life.”
“You’re absolutely sure they are being possessed?” Princess Kirsten asked.
“I’m afraid so, ma’am. Our satellite images are being fudged, of course, right across the peninsula. But we can still use
sections of the communications net. The possessed seem to have forgotten or ignored that. The AIs have been pulling what images
they can from sensors and cameras. The overall pattern is constant. Non-possessed are tracked down, then systematically hurt
until they submit to possession. They’re fairly ruthless about it, though they do seem to be reticent with children. Most
of those reaching the evacuation points now are under sixteen.”
“Dear Heaven,” the Princess muttered.
“Any of the possessed trying to get out?” Ryle Thorne asked.
“No, sir,” Ralph said. “They seem to be sticking to the agreement as far as we can tell. The only anomaly at the moment is
the weather. There’s a considerable amount of unnatural cloud building up over Mortonridge, it started this morning.”
“Unnatural cloud?” Ryle Thorne inquired.
“Yes, sir. It’s an almost uniform blanket spreading up from the south, which doesn’t appear to be affected by the wind. Oh,
and it’s starting to glow red. We believe it could be an additional form of protection from the sensor satellites. If it continues
to expand at its current rate, Mortonridge will be completely veiled in another thirty-six hours. After that we’ll only have
the sensors hooked into the net, and I don’t believe they’ll overlook them for much longer.”
“A red cloud? Is it poisonous?” Princess Kirsten asked.
“No, ma’am. We flew some drones through it, taking samples. It’s just water vapour. But they’re controlling it somehow.”
“What about its potential as a weapon?”
“I don’t see how it could be used aggressively. The amount of power necessary to generate it is quite impressive, but that’s
all. In any case, the border we’ve established at the top of Mortonridge is an effective block. The troops are calling it
a firebreak. The SD lasers have cleared a two-kilometre-wide line of scorched earth straight across the neck. We’re combining
satellite observation with ground patrols to monitor it. If anything moves out there it’ll be targeted immediately.”
“What happens if the cloud tries to move over?”
“Then we’ll attempt to burn it back with the SD lasers. If that doesn’t work, then we’ll need your authority to launch punitive
strikes, ma’am.”
“I see. How will you know how to target these punitive strikes if the red cloud covers all of Mortonridge?”
“Scout teams will have to go in, ma’am.”
“Let us pray the cloud can be halted by the lasers, then.”
“I can see you’re geared up to prevent any attempt at a mass breakout,” Ryle Thorne said. “What have you done to prevent individual
possessed sneaking out among the refugees? We all know it only takes one to restart the whole nightmare. And I monitored aspects
of the evacuation, it was rather chaotic at times.”
“It was chaotic getting the refugees out, sir,” Ralph said. “But the other end was more straightforward. Everyone was tested
to see if they had this energistic effect. We didn’t find anybody. Even if they did manage to get through, the refugees are
all being held in isolation. We think the only possessed on Ombey are on Mortonridge.”
“Good,” Princess Kirsten said. “I know Roche Skark has already congratulated you, Mr Hiltch, but I’d like to express my own
gratitude for the way you’ve handled this crisis. Your conduct has been exemplary.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“It galls me to say it, but I think that Ekelund woman was right. The final outcome isn’t going to be decided here.”
“Excuse me, ma’am, but I told Ekelund I thought that was incorrect, and I still believe that.”
“Go on, Mr Hiltch,” Kirsten told him cordially. “I don’t bite, and I’d dearly love to be proved wrong in this instance. You
have an idea?”
“Yes, ma’am. I think just waiting passively for this problem to be resolved somewhere else would be a vast mistake. For our
own peace of mind, if nothing else, we have to know that the possessed can be beaten, can be made to give up what they’ve
taken. We know zero-tau can force them to abandon the bodies they’ve stolen; and it may be that Kulu or Earth, or somewhere
with real top-grade scientific resources, can find a quicker more effective method. But the point is, whatever solution we
eventually come up with we still have to get out there on the ground and implement it.”
“So you want to start now?” Admiral Farquar asked.
“The preparation stage, yes, sir. There is a lot of groundwork to be laid first. Colonel Palmer and myself believe the possessed
have already made one critical mistake. By possessing everyone left in Mortonridge they have given up their blackmail weapon.
They cannot threaten us with a massacre as they did in Exnall, not anymore, because they have no hostages left. There is only
us and them now.”
“Ralph, you’ve had firsthand experience of how hard they fight. It would cost us a couple of marines for every four or five
possessed we captured. That’s a bad ratio.”
Ralph switched his attention to the Princess, wishing they were out of the sensenviron. He wanted physical eye contact, delivering
her the truth of what he believed. “I don’t believe we should use our own marines, sir. Not in the front line. As you say,
they would be wiped out. We know the possessed have to be completely overwhelmed before they can be subdued, and those kinds
of battles would demoralize the troops long before we made any real inroads.”
“So what do you want to use?” Kirsten asked curiously.
“There is, ma’am, one technology which can function effectively around a possessed, and is also available in the kind of quantities
necessary to liberate Mortonridge.”
“Bitek,” Kirsten said quickly, vaguely pleased at making the connection.
“Yes, ma’am.” Ralph made an effort to rein in his surprise. “The Edenists could probably produce some kind of warrior construct
which could do the job.”
“There’s even an appropriate DNA sequence which they could employ,” she said, enjoying the game, her thoughts racing ahead,
mapping our possibilities. “A Tranquillity serjeant. I’ve accessed sensevises of them. Nasty-looking brutes. And Ione is a
cousin of ours, I’m sure acquisition wouldn’t be a problem.”
The rest of the security committee remained silent, startled by her apparent eagerness to discard taboos.
“We would still need a massive conventional army to occupy and hold the land we regained, and support the bitek constructs,”
Ralph said cautiously.
“Yes.” The Princess was lost in thought. “You’ve certainly offered a valid proposal, Mr Hiltch. Unfortunately, as I’m sure
you are aware, I could not conceivably approach the Edenists with such a request. The political implications of such an alliance
would undermine some of the Kingdom’s basic tenets of foreign policy, a policy which has been maintained for centuries.”
“I see, ma’am,” Ralph said stiffly.
“
I
can’t petition them,” Kirsten said, enjoying herself. “Only King Alastair can do that. So you’d better go and ask my big
brother for me, hadn’t you, Mr Hiltch?”
• • •
As soon as New California fell to the Capone Organization the Consensus of the thirty habitats orbiting Yosemite started preparing
for war. It was a situation which had never before occurred in the five centuries since Edenism was founded. Only Laton had
ever threatened them in the past, but he was one man; the staggering pan-Confederation resources they had were adequate to
deal with him (so they considered at the time). This was different.
Adamists throughout the Confederation nearly always allowed prejudice to contaminate their thinking towards the Edenist culture.
They assumed that as it was both wealthy and cloistered it would be if not decadent, then at least timorous. They were wrong.
Edenists prided themselves in their rational approach to all facets of life. They might deplore violence, favouring endless
diplomatic negotiations and economic sanctions to any form of conflict, but if there was no alternative, they would fight.
And fight with a coldly logical precision which was frightening.