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Authors: Navin Weeraratne

The Hundred Gram Mission (36 page)

BOOK: The Hundred Gram Mission
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"There is nothing to talk about.
Do not
undermine me!"

"You think that this could go worse?"

"He can't be trusted."

"No. But there are other people, sane people, beyond that hatch. I can work out an agreement with Henrikson, his chief scientist. Henrikson gets it, he told me that something like this was in the making. He just didn't know what."

"It is decided."

"You are losing control of the situation, not gaining it. And the stakes are the lives of your own countrymen."

"If you won't help me, then at least stay out of my way."

She opened the hatch and pushed through, gun first.

 

"Shit Bro, what the hell you think you doing with that?"

Ken Brown held the flechette gun awkwardly. He look down at it, then back up at Jose Jimenez. There were six other prisoners with Jose, all of them were carrying heavy tools.

"We need to stop them," he said.

"You ain't stoppin' shit, fool," said a large prisoner behind Jose, carrying a wrench.

"What's all this?" demanded Brown. "What do all of you think you're doing?"

"The FBI agent, he says if we help out, we're getting our sentences commuted," said Jose. "We get to go home Bro. Free men!"

"Like you said in the bunkroom," said the large prisoner. "This is our fight now. Now put that gun down before you do yourself some wrong."

"Just get out of my way."

"Hey Ken, just give us the gun okay?" said Jimenez. He reached for the weapon.

"Let go!" Ken try to to jerk it away.

"Fuck you old man!"

The gun went off. Jimenez was punched back, blood erupting out his gut in spinning droplets. The large prisoner swung the wrench, and crushed Brown’s skull.

 

"You should have surrendered."

The rail gun was built in a disused accelerator track.  Stolen electromagnets ran along its length. Power cables hung from underneath in clumps, like gutted intestines. The rider was a metal bucket the size of a small car. Daryl Sepkorov, the world’s richest, self-made man, was pressed against it, hands up.

Suyin pinned his chest with her knee, the flechette gun pointed at his throat. Henrikson, several scientists, and some guards knelt in a corner. The prison guard robots stood over them, one had bloody finger streaks on its shield.

"I think you can stop now," said Stockwell. "Player One has definitely won this game."

She looked over to Henrikson. "You, are you in charge?"

"
I'm
in charge," said Spektorov.

Suyin shoved him with her knee.  

"I am the head designer, yes," Said Henrikson.

"On account of that," she pointed with her stump at the large box strapped to a work table with "DANGER" signs on it. "I would rather not use an explosive to disable this device. So you're going to tell me how, or otherwise, I will just stay with what I am used to."

Henrikson nodded.

"Hold on there Hands Free," said Stockwell. "You want to think about this?"

"All you ever do is talk. Do you ever stop talking?"

"The threat of unsanctioned and illegal experimentation into Von Neumann technology, has ended. You - and me - are now completely in control of that situation. Agreed?"

"What is your point?"

"You need to get on your radio, and call off those shuttles."

"Of course not! We need to arrest these people."

"A
lot
of classified research for the US Government has been happening here.  The Chinese government is not going to be taking control of this place."

"What are you saying?"

"There was a problem here and we fixed it. Both our governments would be happy about it. So now, there is no more need for those special forces shuttles, to come here. If they do, it would only be with the intention of looting this place for its technology. I cannot allow that."

"This facility is being shut down."

"That is not your decision to make. That would be an illegal act, and as the ranking US government representative in this facility,
I will not allow it
."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, and I am not threatening the shuttles either, I have no illusions what will happen if they arrive, and I try to stop them taking over. I will surrender."

"Stop being so melodramatic."

"If you let those shuttles come here, it will cause a major diplomatic incident. Is that what you want? Do you think that will make things better?  If our governments trusted each other more, do you think Jemaat Ansar would have escaped? That they would have attacked E2?

"The last time you and I worked together, things went badly. You went against your own gut -
I think
- and did what you were ordered to do, instead."

"I am not going to keep apologizing for what happened in Colombo."

"That will be easy, since you never started. But that’s not the point. We need to make sure those shuttles don't come here, or things could get nasty on that blue planet down there.

If you get on the radio, and ask them to wave off, do you think that's actually going to happen?"

She said nothing.

"Exactly. We need the rail gun. You need to make a decision now, you are not allowed to hide behind your orders. Come on, We don't have a lot of time before they get here."

Suyin looked away.

"Seriously?" said Spektorov. "I could have just talked you into a circle?"

 

Four hours later, Jiuquan Launch Mission Control Center

"We've lost contact with Stork One and Two."

The People’s Liberation Army Air Force general, did not look pleased. All around him, Mission staff we're dressed in white coats and white baseball caps. They looked more like office workers on a terrible adventure getaway. Half of the display screens were suddenly showing blue, null signals.

"How is that possible?" he said.

"I don't know Sir," said the hook-nosed controller.

"Sir," a controller with bad teeth, "we've lost visual feeds from the Dragon Five satellite."

"Just visual?"

"Yes," said Bad Teeth, "But it's picked up a huge spike in cosmic radiation. Hard gamma rays."

"An unpredicted solar flare?"

"No Sir, they are on the night side."

The main screen lit up with new information, orange numbers and words scrolling. Some of the controllers stared and gasped.

"What is it?" demanded the general. "What does it mean?"

"It's from the Sun Tzu Self-Transcending System," said one of the gaspers. "It's matching the radiation data against an explosion model. It matches."

"What sort of explosion?"

"Confirming detonation," said Hook Nose. "Four kiloton nuclear device."

The entire room went silent.

"How much," the general spoke at last, "How much antimatter did that take?"

"It would have been about a tenth of a gram, Sir," said Gasper. "We estimate they have anywhere between one and one-and-a-half grams in inventory."

"Wait!" Bad Teeth got up from his console, waving and jumping. "I am receiving telemetry again from both vessels!"

"Mission Control," a raspy voice over the radio, "What was that?"

"Stork One this is Control," said Hook Nose. "What is your status?"

"All our computers have gone down. Only the nuclear hardened systems are rebooting."

"Can you still fly the ship?"

"Yes. We could see sparks in the backs of our eyes. What was that?"

"Their brain cells being killed," murmured the general. "It was a warning shot. I am aborting the mission, have them redirect to the orbital shipyard for repairs and medical examination."

 

Daryl Spektorov, VI

"I'm glad it's you they picked to negotiate, and not some State Department prick."

Herrera’s image on the screen, laughed. "Why would it be State? It's only you who think you're in another country over there."

"Only me. Only me, and the Chinese."

Herrera said nothing for a moment. "I heard you got your ass beat by a one-armed woman, is that correct?"

"She had help from a few dozen robots. But that's all water under the bridge, if you’re prepared to make a deal."

"So what are you offering?"  

"We continue our Von Neumann research. However, international monitors get to make sure we’re not trying to weaponize it."

"You want the world to accept Von Neumann technology?"

"They don't have a choice do they?"

Herrera didn’t reply.

"Herrera, does anyone actually still think it’s better to send people to space, than take care of them there on Earth? Tell those idiots they need to beat 200,000."

"What’s that number?"

"The planet’s population growth rate.
Per day
. And even if you try to take care of them on Earth, you still can't afford it. Now, how about the
real
problem? Climate change. Centuries of excess carbon dioxide and methane to clean up. How can you, when you're too busy saving all the Shitfuckistans from collapsing?"

"It's far too late to stop climate change."

"When you get an infection, do you wait a week, or do you take antibiotics, immediately? This century ends either in a dark age, or better than it began. I've decided - for everyone - to make it end better.  All you need to do is make them feel good about that. Put lipstick on the pig and tell them to pucker up."

"I thought you wanted to make a deal, Spektorov."

"I've got plenty of lipstick for you. You know my real interest in this, is Pathfinder."

"I haven’t forgotten."

"We grossly underestimated our needs. We can’t build a large enough antimatter factory, on our own. I want the bulk of America and China’s orbital shipyard output."

"For how long?"

"Years, unless they want to go back to making stupid habitats. I get to expand my antimatter factory. In exchange, I share with them all our Von Neumann research. They can send more researchers here, we can expand into a full-on, international, Manhattan-style project. I welcome Europe, Russia, and India to join in. The same deal, orbital capacity they don’t really use, for a slice of the pie. However, America and China decide if they get to join or not. So you get to maintain control of the technology."

"But we would be forced to include them. If not, they would see your little asteroid as our convenient, legal loophole. That will lead to the proliferation of more Von Neumann research centers."

"Then fucking share the technology, Herrera.  I don't care, it's not my job.  And if you're worried about proliferation, ask yourself how effective that was at E2. The genie is out of the lamp. You may as well wish for something good."

 

Jansen Henrikson, VII

The Netherlands, three weeks later

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been two years since my last confession. I accuse myself of - of lying."

"Please go on."

"It is a big lie, it is a conspiracy," said Henrikson. "It is a lie being made to the whole world, and I, by keeping silent, am party to it."

"Then yours is the sin of silence. Why do you keep party to it?"

"I stand to gain greatly by it. And if I tell people what's going on, I will lose.  And something I believe in, will fail completely. This is my greater fear."

"What harm is this causing?"

"The hopes and dreams of many, are being misapplied. They are being used."

"That is defrauding the Laborer of his wages. It is a sins that cries to Heaven for vengeance. Have you considered speaking the truth?"

"I have, but I think it would cause greater damage. I do not feel like I should decide between such things. It is easier to be a coward, and say nothing."

"It is."

"For this and all the sins of my past life, I am heartily sorry, beg pardon of God, and absolution of you, Father."

 

Abdul Kareem Al-Rashid, V

 

"What you did was a great crime against fellow Moslems."

Kareem looked out the window.  The stars were beginning to elbow each other for room in the rural sky. A guard patrolled the compound, a night vision scope held up to his eye.

Inside the room, three men sat around a low table. On the far wall, a muted newscast showed a shredding fireball that had once been a space station.

"Nonsense," said a man dressed as a goat herder. He wore a holster that carried a Chinese-made pistol. The screens on his spectacle were back lit. "You reached out to volunteers, who made a sacrifice. The others who died were cowards, or infidels."

BOOK: The Hundred Gram Mission
4.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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