When the Contact returned, Mr. Grey was ready.
He’d been busy in the past few hours assembling the tools that he would need for his future work. The Verde units had been most helpful in his efforts, going about their day and collecting the material he would need to spread his influence through the heretic fleet.
It was careful, painstaking work, one he knew would increase the possible exposure of his operation substantially. The devices he needed were not widely available among the heretics; in fact, he would need to assemble them from scratch for the most part, and the Verdes would be crucial for getting access to the required components. After that, he would need to install the implants in the necessary targets, who could then continue the work on his behalf.
Fortunately, it seemed as if the heretic way of life would ease that portion of the operation. They seemed genuinely open and unassuming, so it would often merely require one of the Verdes to offer someone a place to stay or a meal. After that, an excuse could be fabricated to cover the time needed to subdue and perform surgery on the target, and another heretic could join the ranks of his Resources.
Of course, all this work was simply meant to ease the effort of exterminating the heretics—as well as redeeming him from his failures—but he knew it might not be entirely necessary. The Contact would have available forces standing by in case he failed; its tolerance of his frailty was only out of a desire for the most efficient and refined solution to the problem. To think otherwise was blasphemy and suicide at once. He’d seen what happened to doubters, and had no desire to join them.
So when the time came for the Contact to once again visit him, Mr. Grey carefully sat down at the Verdes’ dining room table and set himself to meditation. He had left himself plenty of time to clear his mind of all such poisonous thoughts and focus on the task at hand. It would not do to be taken by surprise again. An Agent was to be a pure vessel, one that was perfectly suitable for—
AGENT GREY-00295, REPORT.
Mr. Grey swayed slightly, bracing himself against the table. He felt a flicker of satisfaction that he had been able to fortify himself more thoroughly this time. Then he focused himself.
infiltration mission proceeding as planned agent has made contact with local assets assembling material for further spread projected time is in only two weeks before alpha strike is possible
UNACCEPTABLE. TIMESCALE MUST BE ACCELERATED.
A burst of fear and confusion ran through Mr. Grey, but he suppressed it and concentrated.
misunderstanding humility submission unable to work faster without risking compromise of security especially with the presence of the DEVICE must continue current efforts if other available assets can assist
NO OTHER ASSETS AVAILABLE. CURRENT EXPENDITURE OF RESOURCES UNACCEPTABLE. ASSUME GREATER RISK IF NEEDED. ACCELERATE TIMESCALE.
Mr. Grey was trembling now. He had never encountered this kind of adjustment to his plans before. The Contact seemed almost…uncertain, a thought that did not belong in the mind of any successful Agent. It was an increasing effort to focus. Pain was already flickering inside his skull, building as the pressure of the transmission intensified.
request further guidance and direction regarding timescale and resources need clarity for the acceptable level of risk to be taken wish all success and honor to the CAUSE
There was a pause that contained an infinity of fear and uncertainty. A part of him thought he was about to be ended. The Contact did not need him, after all. For all it cared, one of the Verdes might be able to take his place. It would not be the first time that a Resource was ascended while an Agent suffered the fate of the disloyal and incompetent. He waited, and shook, and feared.
Then the voice returned, this time firmer and stronger than before.
FURTHER OPERATIONAL DATA RELEASED. FREE TRANSMISSION CHANNEL OPENED FOR EMERGENT SITUATIONS. ALL GLORY TO THE CAUSE. FALTER NOT.
It was the only warning he had before another flood of data struck his mind.
This time it wasn’t something as simple as the location of a local cell of Resources and a future schedule for contact. Instead, he was given a view of the actual fleet his patron had at its disposal, a tactical summary of the battle it had just fought, and the schematics for devices that he hadn’t even believed possible.
Included in that rush of data were details for opening a channel to the Contact. Once an impossible privilege, far beyond that of a mere Agent, it now seemed so simple, so easy. The triggers and programs were already available within his current augmentations. All he needed was the will and the knowledge. The revelation sent shivers of wonder through his brain. What other complexities was he capable of without knowing it?
Such knowledge was not free, of course. The sharing was an agony to him, and his body thrashed in his seat. His spine jerked and arched as the information burned itself into his mind. Mr. Grey felt his head hit the wall behind him in a dull, barely important kind of way, but none of it mattered. Nothing at all mattered. Only the Contact. Only the Cause.
And he would be its instrument of destruction.
“Admiral.”
Susan looked up and nearly choked on her latest mouthful of food. The OMNI’s avatar was standing directly in front of her, staring at her with a fixed expression of frustration. It was not the best time for a visitation; she had just managed to sit down for a moment in the officer’s lounge. Her food wasn’t much, just a standard ration amount of storage wafers, but it was enough to keep her going—when it wasn’t strangling her.
She forced the lump of scientifically proven nutrition down and coughed. When she spoke, her voice was rough. “OMNI. What is it?”
“Another subspace disturbance has been detected. There was a much larger transfer of data this time. I believe it is time for the fleet to increase its security measures.”
Susan let out a quiet breath. She had hoped, somewhat, that OMNI had forgotten its vague warnings and threatening hints. It had been nearly a week since the first one, and several days had passed since the battle between the strangers and whoever else was still in the system. The Wayfarers had used that time to refuel and replenish some of their water stores, but Susan had kept the fleet on high alert in case OMNI’s ramblings came true. As time had passed, she had started to hope the whole thing had been a programming glitch that had finally worked itself out.
Clearly, she had hoped in vain. She watched the projection for a moment and spoke slowly. “Are there any more indications of where these transmissions are coming from? Or where they are being received?”
“No, Admiral. The enemy is taking great care to conceal their location, both in terms of the transmitter and the receiver.” The avatar shook its head. “It is possible that they have identified the presence of OMNI on the Concord¸ and are practicing some form of informational security as a result.”
She laced her fingers together and leaned back slightly in her chair. “So we still have no idea where in the fleet these infiltrators are? Or where they are getting their data from?”
The avatar nodded, though Arland’s features were stamped with reluctance. “This is correct, Admiral. I am continuing to monitor the situation, but there is only so much that I can do without the authorization to use more severe protocols to search the fleet.”
Susan tried not to feel a burst of concern at the stress the avatar placed on the word ‘severe.’ She failed. “I am not authorizing those measures currently. There is still not enough evidence of these infiltrators within the fleet. Are you entirely certain that these subspace echoes cannot be the result of resonance cascades? Or some artifact left behind by Captain Gabriel’s contacts?”
The avatar shook its head, a look of near-indignation on its face. Its voice grew almost heated with anger. “No, Admiral. Subspace is normally predictable and constant, unless disturbed by interference from our dimensional plane. There are no known natural occurrences of subspace waves or subspace echoes, outside of Wild Colony communication devices, OMNI protocol chambers, or—”
Arland’s voice suddenly cut off. To Susan’s shock, a flicker of something almost like shame and dismay crossed his expression. Then its features settled back into a professional blankness that any Directorate officer would envy. “Outside of those known devices, there are no sources of such subspace disruptions, Admiral. None have been recorded throughout the entire lifetime of the Concord.”
Susan watched him for a moment longer, trying to decide what it was the avatar had been about to mention. Apparently, OMNI still had more secrets—but how could a functioning program nearly compromise its own security like the OMNI obviously almost had? She waited for another crack in the avatar’s reserve, but none came. “You were deactivated for quite some time, OMNI. Is it possible that things may have changed in that period?”
“The Concord continued to monitor the dimensional strata even while the OMNI program was suspended, Admiral. It was a failsafe, meant to provide OMNI with further data when reactivation occurred.” The avatar’s voice had shifted to a more lecturing tone, one that Susan was familiar with from her time in Directorate training programs. It was not a fond memory to dredge up now. “I can now access the relevant data. Again, no natural disturbance of subspace has ever been observed.”
She unfolded her hands and tapped the table gently. “And the strangers? Quite a bit of their capabilities are unknown. Would they be able to generate the same subspace echoes?”
Arland’s expression grew distant for a moment. Then he shook his head again. “During the entirety of the interaction with these ‘strangers’, they have demonstrated no effective use of subspace. Even their resonance cascades appear to have been standard, although they appear to have more advanced hyperspace breaching technology.” The avatar paused. “Additionally, it is highly unlikely that the strangers would be able to mimic the exact transmission behavior of Wild Colony agents. The possibility does exist, but even if that were the case, our security response would need to be the same.”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“A good point.” Susan caught another abnormal flicker in its expression, this time one of triumph. She then shook her head slowly. “I still will not alter our current security status until I am presented with more convincing proof. Otherwise, we risk destabilizing the fleet and preventing our operations.”
A curious amount of distress now entered the avatar’s posture. “Admiral, the threat to the fleet by these infiltrators cannot be overstated.”
Susan cut it off with a sharp gesture. “We will be no less dead if we starve, OMNI. We can’t afford any distractions.” Then she paused. “Find more evidence, if you can, and then let me know. That is all.”
The dismissal worked just as well with OMNI as it would have with any Directorate officer. Arland’s back stiffened as he came to attention. A heartbeat later, he vanished.
Susan stared into the place where he had been for another handful of moments and then sighed. She was about to turn back to her food when she stopped.
All around her, the other officers in the lounge were staring at the space where OMNI’s avatar had been standing. Some of them were looking back and forth between her and the spot, a mixture of fear and amazement on their faces. It occurred to her she had always assumed that only she could see Arland; obviously, she was wrong.
She looked down at her meal and then sighed again. Instead of continuing, she touched her communication link. “Commander Mesic, can you reach Captain Gabriel, please? Have him come to my ready room.”
“Yes, ma’am, right away.”
Swiping another handful of bites from her tasteless food, she stood and strode out of the lounge, the rest of the officers still staring after her. If OMNI was going to continue with its disruptive antics, it promised to become almost as much of a problem as the supposed Wild Colony task force. She clearly needed to deal with the issue. Permanently.
Gabe walked into the ready room, curious why Susan would have summoned him. He heard the tail end of a conversation as he entered, something that nearly brought him up short. Susan was sitting at her desk with her hands pressed to both sides of her head, while Corporal Shen stood at attention in front of her. The bodyguard’s stance was slightly tense, as if he was in some kind of trouble. He suddenly began to hope that whatever the man had done, Susan wouldn’t be in the mood to take it out on the next person she spoke to.
“So you saw him too?”
Susan’s voice was level, but a significant amount of irritation was leaking through. It was not a great sign for why he had been called.
Corporal Shen seemed surprised when he responded, not an easy feat. He was usually legendarily unimpressed with anything that happened around him. Plenty of the other Wayfarers had spent hours and hours trying to come up with ways to get a reaction from him, but something about his previous life appeared to have beaten all the amazement out of him. “Yes, Admiral. The time in the corridor outside IntCent. I thought you were aware.”
“Well, I suppose I should have been. I merely didn’t think that…oh, Captain Gabriel. Come in.”
Gabe nodded and walked up to join Corporal Shen in front of the desk. “Something I can help with, Admiral?”
Susan went back to massaging her temples, still clearly trying to fight some kind of migraine. “Yes, actually. It appears something I believed was a secret is starting to come to light. Corporal Shen?”
The bodyguard glanced at Gabe and shrugged. “The Admiral’s tactical system has an avatar, of sorts. It’s starting to pop up outside the chamber, and people are getting worried.”
Gabe blinked. “Wait, what?”
A little while later, Gabe was staring at Susan in complete astonishment. When he finally found his voice again, it was hard to keep his surprise from showing completely. “So OMNI has been using one of the Keeper’s ancestors to talk to you, and you think it might be unstable because the thing is behaving erratically?”
Susan nodded. “Yes, Captain, that is a valid summary of the situation.”
Gabe scrubbed at his eyes for a moment, envying his past self. What he would have given to just be worried about missing survey records and supply shortages now! “What has the Keeper told you about it?” When there was no answer, he stopped and raised an eyebrow at her. “You have asked him, haven’t you?”
To his increasing surprise, Susan shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I have not.”
For a long moment, he studied her. Something told him that her lack of consultation with the Keeper was more than a mere forgetfulness. He took a step forward and then looked back at Corporal Shen. “Corporal, give us the room for a minute, will you?”
The bodyguard gave him a level look and then glanced at the Admiral. She made a dismissive gesture, and Shen nodded briefly. He turned on his heel and marched out of the hatch, stopping just outside of it. Gabe waited until the doorway was sealed before he turned back to Susan, his words pitched low. “Mind if I ask why you haven’t talked to the Keeper about it yet?”
She gave him another very level look. “I…have had a lot on my mind lately. Between the incident between the strangers and their mysterious ambushers, the supply shortages, the Directorate prisoners…”
Gabe lowered himself into a seat. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on her desk. “All of those are problems, yeah, but this is the central nervous system of our fleet now. If something goes wrong with Concord, we’ll be stuck in this system forever. I know you would have prioritized it before anything else. So why wait to talk about it with the one person who might know something?”
Susan paused for a long time. It seemed to stretch out forever, but Gabe forced himself to wait. After all, she’d been there for him when he had been battling things. The least he could do was give her the chance to think things through.
When she finally spoke, her voice was pitched low, like his. “I’m not sure it would be wise for me to visit the Compass. If something does happen—if something is wrong—it would be best if I could be here onboard the Concord to make sure things are stable.”
Gabe blinked. He ran through the scenario in his head. If OMNI was going haywire, it was still respecting the chain of command so far. Susan was still in command of the fleet, so when it asked for an escalation of security, she could shut it down—but there was no guarantee that it would listen to anyone else. Which meant that if it could persuade itself that the Admiral was indisposed or out of contact, and that something needed to be done…
“Yeah, I see it.” Gabe saw her glanced around the room, and suddenly realized that if OMNI could appear and monitor anywhere in the fleet, then it could certainly be listening now. Had things gotten that out of control? If they had, could the thing even be shut down at this point? Was there anywhere safe from the system’s eavesdropping?
Susan gave him a sharp look that told him that something of his concern must have shown on his face. “At the same time, we can’t allow ourselves to be distracted by paranoia, Captain. The system is still functioning as expected, even if it does have a few quirks it would be useful to investigate.” The emphasis was just slightly heavier on the last word, and Gabe caught himself before he nodded. His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when she continued in an utterly bland voice. “Even if it would be nice to speak with the Keeper, I can’t allow myself to be distracted right now. I’ll just have to take care of it as soon as I can.”
He nodded slowly, hoping that she knew he understood the message. “I read you, Admiral. I’m sure that we will be able to take care of everything.” Then he grinned. “Well, at the very least, the journey this far has been interesting. Better than being bored, am I right?”
Susan sat back in her chair and sighed. A tired smile crossed her face. “I suppose that is correct, Captain Gabriel. It has been anything but boring so far.”
They talked of small things for the rest of the meeting, with Gabe sharing his report of the information he had found on the Surveyor and Susan telling him her plans for how she wanted to cycle the rig patrols through the system. When they bade each other farewell, Gabe felt lighter than he had in weeks, not least because he had a definite purpose now. If Susan couldn’t leave the Concord, then at least he could.
The only challenge then would be to convince the Keeper to share whatever he knew. A small problem, given how much Hartwinn Schreiber tended to dislike him, but Gabe was confident that the Lord would provide a way. He had to, because Gabe had absolutely no intention of letting her down.
Mr. Grey had been busy.
The Contact had left him shaking and weakened, but the experience had also filled him with a driving motivation far beyond the mere fear that had dominated him before. The wisdom and purity of the Contact had been reaffirmed for him; if the Cause needed it, Mr. Grey was more than willing to die for the work ahead. With such a strong, clear direction to follow, it would have been both foolish and irresponsible to wait for his limbs to stop trembling before he began.
With new schematics burned into his brain, and a wonderful galaxy of possible applications dancing before him, Mr. Grey had outlined his new plan of attack. The Contact had revealed enough of the assets within the system to him that he knew exactly how desperate things had become. They had been well positioned to clear the heretics from the system—after all, they had anticipated the need to clean up Nevlin’s task force once the Directorate had finished the job—but the untimely arrival of some other outsiders had disrupted things. A clash with them had weakened the Contact’s forces substantially, to the point where a clean victory was no longer assured. It was now possible, even probable, that the Contact’s resources would be nearly depleted if they came into contact with the heretic fleet.
Such a possibility was unacceptable. The Contact had other tasks once this fleet of heretics had been exterminated, and there would be no time to recover if things went awry. There was also the possibility that the interlopers would return; they were well known to inhabit this area of space, and several conflicts with them had already occurred. All these obstacles combined to restrict the Contact’s operations to within a small window of time, at least until it was forced to requisition more forces.
It was easy to see, therefore, why Mr. Grey had been granted such ascendance. He knew that lesser men might have felt chagrin that the Contact had been forced into trusting him by desperate circumstances, but he was above such petty concerns. If the universe had conspired to see him rise, he was more than willing to accept its beneficence. Such luck only proved all the more why he, among all the Contact’s servants, was destined for greatness.
Yet the heretics remained a problem, and he had no intention of allowing them to continue to stand in his way.
Accordingly, he had begun to make better use of the Resources at his disposal. The work would put them at greater risk, but they were only Resources, not Agents. To defy him would lead to a fate far worse than mere death. He had dispatched two of the Verde cell to acquire new materials for him, ones that he now knew he could put to immediate use. Another Verde he sent on a recruitment mission; the teenaged Resource would be extremely useful in convincing a handful of others to visit the Verde home for abduction and alteration.
The last of the Verdes, the smallest of them, he kept to act as a sentry. While the Verdes had never received many visitors, the last thing he needed was for some inquisitive neighbor or curious watchman to stumble over his work. He set her outside the door, pretending to play while she kept a careful watch on the surrounding corridors.
In the meantime, he set to work on the first of his new devices. It was the most important of his new tools, and would provide him access to the communication channel that the Contact had instructed him how to use. It would also provide a crucial cutout for him; if the Device detected his transmissions, he would be able to bounce the signal off of the relay and misdirect it. A useful deception, and one he had never dreamed of needing before.
His next move was absurdly clear, once the relay was finished. The Contact no longer had the overwhelming force that had been anticipated. Dividing or crippling the heretic fleet was therefore a necessity, in order to create an easier target for the Contact’s available assets. As such, the threat of the Device needed to be neutralized. He had already seen what kind of havoc it had wreaked on the Directorate; he could not afford for the Contact’s assets to suffer a similar fate.
Fortunately, the Contact’s information had provided him the key to solving that problem as well. All he needed to do was to gather and distribute the appropriate hardware, and the doom of the heretics would be sealed. Obtaining the needed materials would be risky, however, and as such, he would need to wait. A significant part of him grated against the delay, but a wiser, more experienced portion of him, tempered by the memory of dozens of accomplished missions and the stern warnings of the Contact, convinced Mr. Grey to wait. An opportunity would present itself, and in the meantime, the ranks of his Resources would grow, heretic by heretic. It was only a matter of time.