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  Turning to another set of feeds, Justio watched the ship management screen showing Aytch making final preparations for the re-entry craft. This was good; the message Justio had received warning him about escalations related to Jenkins had also told him to send a back-up escalation message to Vantch. Justio couldn’t access his hidden Vantch QET pairs without going into the QET room.

  He waited.

  ‘Justio, I’m leaving now.’

  Justio turned to see Aytch in the doorway. ‘Good luck. Mission Initiated.’

  With a formal salute Aytch turned and left. Moments later the re-entry vehicle detached and headed down to the surface.

  Six hours.

  As Justio walked down to the QET room, he reflected on the interactions he’d had with the Vantch. He was not the primary controller—that was Jenkins. He was the back-up, which was just as well. The use of religious fervour to instigate failure in the official Gadium mission jarred with his principles.

  Once in the QET room, and accessing the hidden partition, Justio checked the bandwidth. Barely enough. These missions took a lot of coordination, and they’d only managed to hide 1000 characters’ worth of entangle pairs on his current ship. It had been an incredibly arduous task, over 1000 years ago, to transport the pairs in total secrecy between him and the roaming GF ship.

  Justio wrote the message.

  Copy. Vantch. GEC Suspicious. Escalate Now. Full. Enemy Close V. 3 Out.

  Justio felt the blood drain out of his head as he pressed send; it could mean a nuclear exchange on Vantch.

  Returning to the crew room, Justio saw a transcript on Bob and Mike’s discussion in the Pryson Room. The mini-bots had recorded everything inside the laboratory, and then pushed the information out when Bob had returned to Mike’s car for more equipment. The transcript was dull, they were clearly keeping quiet about the details of the test. But whether this was due to fear of alien intrusion, or because they were wrestling with their own consciences, Justio could not tell.

  Klope’s head felt as though someone was hammering on it. Either his eyes were shut or he was in pitch black, he couldn’t tell. Outside of his skull, there was silence. But he felt safe. He was clearly in a bed of some type, with soft warm covers. He drifted into a light slumber.

  There was a noise of movement close to him, and a voice whispered in his ear. ‘Friend Klope, you have been faithful and resourceful. I am proud to be in your world.’

  Euphoria flood in. My prophet!

  The words of response came automatically. ‘And I in yours, my Prophet.’

  The rustling continued for a moment and then the light began to increase. Klope was in a tent which seemed big enough for five or six people. There were three beds and a few very solid wooden chairs. The tent canvas was black and the light came from a few globes dotted around the ceiling. Klope looked towards the Prophet. His green and white robe was identical to the one Klope wore, if a little cleaner.

  The Prophet pushed his hood back to reveal his face. He looked younger, more vigorous and more joyful than Klope could remember anyone ever looking. He radiated power and certainty. ‘I look well, don’t I brother? It’s the power of righteousness within me—not just a placebo from positive thought—real power; the power of truth.’

  Klope relaxed back on to his bed in rapture. His Prophet was with him. The Prophet picked up a chair nonchalantly with one hand, put it down next to the bed and sat on it. Klope tried to keep the shock off his face. I don’t think I could have lifted that with two hands.

  The Prophet leant forward. ‘You were lucky in my world, friend. I got to you just in time and, although you were gravely injured, I managed to find a world-path in which you survived.’

  ‘I am honoured to be in your world, my Prophet.’

  The Prophet smiled broadly. ‘I have to confess I had a little help getting to you in the first place.’ The Prophet turned and a shape moved up behind him.

  Klope looked at the new arrival. He could not tell if it was a man or woman; it was shaped similarly to a Vantch inhabitant, but much larger than anyone Klope had ever seen before…‌well, almost. Klope’s eyes went wide as his memory returned to the day in the Square outside the Palace of Infinite Wisdom—the giant seventh guard carrying the Staff of Judgement. Klope drew back into his bed, fearful.

  The Prophet raised his hand. ‘Don’t be afraid. This is my loyal friend and servant.’ He turned to the newcomer. ‘Please show yourself to Klope so there are no secrets amongst us.’

  The newcomer unwound the green and white hood. As the cloth came away, Klope saw a large green reptilian face: eyes, mouth, ears and teeth—so many teeth.

  The Prophet turned to Klope. ‘Brother, Jasang here will just do a little investigation of your brain. It won’t hurt, please relax.’

  Taking Klope’s head in his monstrous hands, Jasang stared intently into his eyes. After a few moments Klope felt an itching in the back of his skull. Jasang nodded in affirmation. The feeling in Klope’s head became more abrasive and it began to hurt.

  The Prophet looked on in silence, he gave Klope a reassuring smile, but it was all Klope could do to keep focused. The pain was becoming unbearable. Jasang noticed the discomfort and offered some support. ‘Just a few short moments to go; hang on.’

  The pain grew for a few more seconds and then was gone. Klope’s head cleared, and there was no pain. He felt very tired and turned to the Prophet. ‘What just happened?’

  ‘You just joined my personal retinue. You will need to rest for the next few days but then you will be amongst my most favoured. My army of truth…‌I have much to attend to now, so I will leave you in Jasang’s company. He will explain what has just happened and our immediate plans.’ The Prophet stood up. ‘Jasang is only known to my closest Disciples; my Paladins; you must not discuss him with anyone else.’

  The Prophet left the tent. Klope heard him start to give orders. They were distant and muddled, but Klope was convinced he’d heard the expressions righteous fire and destruction.

  Jasang took the Prophet’s chair, although it hardly looked as though it could take his weight. The chair creaked ominously. Jasang chuckled. ‘If I were a female of my species, then this chair would have been reduced to splinters by now.’ He paused and smiled. ‘So let me tell you about the changes I have just made to you, and what you need to know to ride the parallels.’

  Chapter 48

  With the lights off, Jenkins sat in his office and looked out over the Gadium capital city, silently reflecting on the GEC meeting from which he had just returned. Out there, life was going on as normal, but the Chairwoman’s speech could well be the herald of a seismic change in Gadium life.

  Early on in the meeting, councilman Smiiter had openly charged the GEC with restricting free speech. He’d made a lengthy speech on the subject of command and control. He claimed the Gadium people were fed up with the stringent legal controls around aspects of Gadium life, notably the forbidden subjects: use of AI, family regulation and Emergence treaties.

  Rather than just closing the conversation down with some platitudes about the ends justifying the means, the Chairwoman had responded. The response was now being broadcast on every channel across the planet—and soon it would go further.

  Although we are the most evolved species in the universe, we cannot presume to have been designed to ever fully comprehend it…‌in aggregate, or, most particularly, as individuals.

  Leading up to the First Great Congress, almost 700,000 years ago, the knowledge amassed by our civilisation was so complex that the role of the lady amateur had, even then, long since become unattainable. Only specialists could meaningfully contribute on the intricacies of any particular subject, whether this was science, humanities, law or galactic expansion.

  Many avenues were considered to allow each Gadium citizen to know more, do more and participate more. Our limitations around AI made it complicated but, even so, self-augmentation was considered, hive-min
ds were considered.

  But through all this there was one overruling tenet—we are individuals.

  After lengthy contemplation, the decision was taken to simplify our lives, to allow us to retain our individuality.

  The First Great Congress legislated away our rights to discuss selected subjects, those considered unassimilable. For those few subjects, the rights of the individual were removed; people were silenced.

  Nothing has changed. The complexity around these so-called forbidden subjects still remains too great for any individual to genuinely understand the depths of any given situation and to make valuable decisions based on meaningful analysis of historical data.

  I believe this has allowed us to retain the ability to devise self-validated views on the subjects left open for discussion, and therefore to retain our individuality.

  This has led to a much lower amount of group assimilation, hive-mind and general cult creation. The evidence from looking at other cultures across the galaxy reinforces this. As our civilisation is reaching its millionth sentient self-aware year of existence, we remain gloriously individual.

  Jenkins grunted. At the meeting, most of the GEC members had nodded knowingly, each assuming they were not one of the individuals who were unable to grasp the whole truth.

  Fundamentally, most of what she’d said was acknowledged intellectually within the more philosophical Gadium circles. However, her speech was now in the public domain and there would be repercussions. The general Gadium populace would not react well to being called stupid…‌and that is simply what they would see. Jenkins resolved to talk to the Deputy later in the day to build a plan. There would definitely be a way to capitalise on this for Gadium First.

  Particularly if we agitate a little, build a bit more antagonism towards the ruling party. Maybe even offer some alternative policies from Gadium First.

  Jenkins stood up, and walked over to the window. Sharnia had also been at the GEC meeting. He’d mostly ignored her stares, but he knew she was getting close. The Deputy seemed to be letting it all happen. Jenkins looked back to the holograph of Katrina on his desk.

  Her most recent QET grid message indicated she was getting on a transport home within the next few months—ships were fairly constantly shuttling between the Gadium and Trogia, a benefit of their proximity. I miss her. He considered going into stasis but he knew he’d be needed to coordinate the information war on Gadium while they decided how to react to Vantch and Earth.

  A buzzer sounded. A voice was patched through. ‘Five o’clock meeting cancelled.’ The line went dead—the dreaded code.

  Jenkins looked at the door, and took a deep breath. The next 30 minutes would be a painful wait, and then the visit he was now expecting would be even more painful. Would he even survive it?

  Running never crossed Jenkins’ mind. He reached across the desk and picked up the holograph of Katrina. Then he accessed his private comms network and reviewed the last QET message from her. Jenkins shook his head almost imperceptibly. She really should have left QET bandwidth for people remaining on-station.

  Well—you’ve obviously watched all the tapes now. I have been good, there’s been no more talk of ‘the parallels’. I’ve agreed the return trip with Commander Kuper and she’s allowed me to go into stasis now and remain there until I get back to Gadium. I’ve not enjoyed seeing things first-hand here, it’s too big. I’ve continued my research into harmonic resonance of the probability waves. I think a few hundred thousand years ago we made a breakthrough around double observation interference—but it seems to have been lost. I found a very oblique reference hidden away postulating a link to safety controls which could pave the way for AI reintroduction.

  Jenkins shook his head. It’s not about the AI ability to collapse the probability waves. We can control AI, if we really want to. No. The AI questions considered by our ancestors had two parts: the first was simple—would they ever turn on us? The second more complex—can we create immortal beings? What sort of life would they have? How long before they went mad?

  There was a motion at the doorway and suddenly it was filled by the imposing bulk of Sharnia. She strode into the room alone. There was no squad of soldiers to arrest Jenkins. This was a personal visit.

  Bad news.

  Sharnia reached Jenkins’ desk in a few strides and slammed her massive hand down on the desk, causing it to creak ominously. She looked down at Jenkins.

  ‘Justio was in Marhok, where he suffered a serious mental breakdown. Then he was with you in Darth. And there are rumours of his involvement, somehow, on Vantch. And now he’s on Earth, and Aytch tells me things are complicated. Too much to be a coincidence.’

  While waiting for Sharnia to arrive, Jenkins had wondered whether to go on the attack or plead ignorance. He decided to attack. He tried to remain calm under Sharnia’s gaze. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re the family with historic links to the GF. Any evidence you have on me has to be circumstantial; I’m innocent. You’re driven by a desire to protect your own family’s honour.’

  Sharnia growled. ‘You’re obviously worried about the shame of a public trial, so you’re trying to get me angry enough to kill you right here. Don’t waste your energy. I am going to kill you right here anyway.’ Sharnia picked up the hologram of Katrina and examined it. ‘Your daughter, Katrina; how sweet. Are you still deluding yourself she loves you as much as you love her? It’s a one-way street, you know. She only loves you as much as you currently love your own parents.’

  Sharnia grabbed the desk and flung it against the wall. It smashed into a thousand pieces. ‘And, just for reference, I had my mother euthanised.’

  Jenkins watched, frozen to the spot, as the hologram of Katrina hit the wall along with the desk, the base shattered and the image faded. Katrina! He snapped back to the present. Sharnia took a step forward and Jenkins lashed out at her leg, but not physically—it would have been futile—he mentally tunnelled into her knee and stimulated the nerves. Her leg collapsed.

  Sharnia’s eyes went wide; unable to support her huge bulk on one leg, she tumbled to the floor. ‘Bastard!’

  ‘My reconditioning was necessary, and it was to fight the GF, not to support them. I’m innocent.’ He grimaced to himself. That’s a long shot…‌Jenkins looked around the room. He had to escape.

  Sharnia fought back the pain and started to drag herself across the floor towards Jenkins. ‘Liar!’

  She was between him and the doorway.

  Suddenly, there were noises in the outer offices, and a squad of Gadium soldiers filed into the room with looks of profound respect on their faces when they realised Commander Jenkins seemed to have overpowered Commander Sharnia.

  After the soldiers had filtered in, the Deputy Chairman also entered. He looked around, quickly taking stock. ‘Take Commander Jenkins away to the maximum security holding cells, he’s to be treated as a potential GF agent.’

  Jenkins allowed himself to be led away.

  Standing up, Sharnia eyed the Deputy warily. ‘He used SISR on me. How can he be anything other than GF? I’d heard rumours some GF agents had had their conditioning switched off.’ She was stretching out the pain in her leg and her back. ‘What led you here and now?’

  ‘We’ve had Jenkins under observation for a few weeks now. No definite links to Vantch or Earth, but certainly links to other suspected GF activity. My agents told me of your impending visit and so I knew I had to get here before you killed him. We need to use him to get to the others.’

  ‘Well, there’s nothing wrong with your instincts…‌I understand your desire to use him, but he’s a tough soldier—he won’t crack.’

  The Deputy looked blankly. ‘Everyone cracks.’

  ‘I’m not convinced.’ Sharnia looked around at Jenkins’ room. Her eyes alighted on the hologram base of Katrina. ‘Still, we will have some quite useful levers.’

  The Deputy walked over to the window. ‘There’s a b
uild-up of GF momentum. We have to act now.’

  Sharnia continued to work the feeling back into her muscles. ‘What do you suggest?’

  ‘A purge.’

  Sharnia looked at the Deputy for a while. ‘Well, you can have Jenkins for questioning, but if the names don’t flow then…’

  The Deputy looked her straight in the eye; he was one of the few Gadium males who could do this without flinching. ‘You’ll get your names.’

  Close to midnight, Aytch rechecked his instruments. His descent had been uneventful, but slow, to avoid giving away his position. Many of the feeds from the main crew room were being piped down to his retrieval craft. It was all quiet in Jack’s house. Justio should set the police off soon.

  Suddenly, an alarm went off. Aytch checked through the various data and radioed through to Justio. ‘What’s your understanding of that alarm?’

  ‘Just checking…‌inbound interceptor fighters. They look as though they’re on a direct intercept.’

  ‘What’s the call?’

  ‘You’re the active officer, but my suggestion is we abort and go again tomorrow.’

  ‘Can’t you perform an override on their systems?’

  ‘Not these ones, they’re all locked down tight.’

  Aytch looked at his readouts. Even though he’d come down slowly, he was still a sitting duck in the infrared spectrum. Escape upwards would be relatively straightforward. But, if he was seen, he’d have to destroy the fighters and even then they may get readings on him. A confirmed alien sighting would be bad. ‘Any other options, Justio?’

  ‘I could try to kill Jack overnight.’

  Aytch shook his head. ‘No. We should disrupt the tests, get them put off. Perhaps a fire at the university. Then I’ll come back on Sunday, with additional decoys.’