Novels2Search

2.4 - Off the Reservation

We spent hours strategizing with Veda before she at last excused herself. "Alright, we have a decent set of frameworks here. You tell me what allies you can round up and I'll file our plans once those are done. In the meantime, there's plenty for me to do."

She disappeared without further formality. I stretched and yawned. "Guess we might as well get a good night's sleep," I said. I stood up to go use the restroom.

While I was in the facilities, a message popped up from a new contact. That surprised me. Usually, I could only receive messages from people I had previously met. This one simply said, Ames: Can we talk?

Who are you and what do you want?

Trying to keep a low profile. Meet me here in 20 minutes. Come alone. The message blinked and then vanished from my logs. I got a ping on my minimap for a location not far away.

I washed my hands and popped out of the bathroom. Sage disappeared in after me. "I claim the shower," she said brightly.

"Okay, I'm going out to look for a birthday present for you," I said. "Don't wait up. You can have it in the morning."

"Sure!" She closed the door.

I stepped over to where Grandpa was sitting, staring at a baseball game that had come up in the latest package from Earth. It was spring training by now, and the Diamondbacks were looking good.

I lowered my voice and told him about the message. "Ames? I recognized that name. Hang on." He thought for a minute and nodded. "Wasn't that the colonel that the Joint Chiefs told us about a couple months back?"

"I tried to remember. "You might be right. He didn't send you a message?"

Grandpa shook his head. "Nope."

"Think I should go?" "Sure. I don't see the harm. Not here on the Hub. Let me know what he says," Grandpa turned back to the game.

I felt a bit adrift. If it was Colonel Ames, the ranking US Armed Forces officer here in the Reality Engine exploit, it felt like Grandpa should have a message for him.

I left, heading for the appointed rendezvous. It was in a section of the hub I hadn't visited before. Overhead, what felt like it must be half a mile up, an enormous glass window stretched the whole length of the great cylinder. Through it, I could see Jupiter. There were little shops and stalls all along the corridor here, offering various alien wares and delicacies to other aliens. They shot me unfriendly looks as I went past. I didn't think this was a section that catered to miners.

The address given turned out to be a small park full of green and red plants. They looked similar to earth plants to me, with grass-like leaves growing from the ground and odd alien trees with thin purple trunks that twined around each other, then radiated outward into yellow-leaved branches. The effect was quite lovely.

In the center of the little park was a bench. A man sat with his back to me, one arm draped along the bench. I stepped in front of him. He had no system tag displayed. I didn't know how to hide that information myself. Either he had gotten an upgrade somewhere, or he knew a few secrets I didn't.

"Did you send me a message?" I asked.

The man nodded. He didn't stand up. He was wearing civilian clothes, tan slacks with a blue dress shirt and a loosened tie at his neck. No hat. If he was the colonel, he was being informal. Maybe that's why he was sitting like that, so I didn't feel a need to salute.

"Thanks for joining me, Williams," he said. He moved his arm off the back of the bench and gestured for me to sit down. I did. "I've been wanting to speak with you and your grandfather for some time, but I am attempting to keep a low profile here."

"You are Colonel Ames, yes?"

He nodded. "I am."

"Then the Joint Chiefs put you in charge."

"Not precisely, as you know. I've heard all about your squabble with Waters." He raised a hand as I started to speak. "Don't worry. Like I said, I heard all about it. Waters is no part of any plan of mine, but I would very much like it if you and your grandfather were."

"Why'd you call for me and not him?"

"Because I am certain I am being watched, and I suspect he is as well. But the watchers are automated systems, and if we do not meet directly, it may keep them from flagging us for a higher attention."

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A creeping sensation of dread filled me. This sounded like it was about to turn into secret agent bullshit. "What do you want?" I asked, maybe a little too brusquely, considering I was a lieutenant and he was not just a colonel, but also the ranking military officer for the nearest half billion miles.

"I want you and your team to keep doing what they're doing," Ames said. "I've got channels back to Earth. We have allies here, even if that's hard to believe."

"Don't trust them," I said at once. "Everyone here has got their own agenda. Even our sponsor wants us to do things for her that may not be for our benefit."

"We aren't trusting," Ames said mildly. "Believe me, the U.S. Army is used to working with people who are out for what they can get. Has your sponsor told you that phase two is about to start?"

I nodded. "We were just having a meeting about that now."

"Good. I thought that was the case based on the timing. How much latitude are they giving you?"

"She wants us to build a team out of our allies and present it to her. The team ought to be able to take an objective and hold it for the first month. That's her goal."

Ames nodded. "Sounds like she has reasonable expectations. I want you to raise them considerably. We aren’t just going to make a profit here. We’re going to take a stand."

"What?" I didn’t understand what he was getting at.

"When you get back down there, you'll be approached by another group with an offer. They will have funding to back it. You're going to need to do more than take a point and hold it. We're going to need you to construct an entire outpost."

Veda had used that term briefly when talking about what the larger corporations that would end up owning Phase 2 would be working toward. The implication was she could never hope to afford such a thing.

"I don't even know if our sponsor knows how to go about that."

"Not a concern." Ames lifted a hand. A message popped up in my queue, blinking. I didn't look at it yet. "That's an information package that will have all of the details on outpost construction. Share it with your grandfather. I know it's not his area of expertise. Fortunately, we have a logistics officer — don’t we, Lieutenant Williams?"

I felt myself turning red. "I was only a corporal back on Earth. I don't have any command experience. Mostly I was just a guy moving boxes around."

"Well, then I guess it's time you earned your rank, Lieutenant."

"Sir." I gathered my courage, "what's the point of all of this? Our sponsor is trying to help me and our team because we're helping her. She's willing to help our friends out as much as she can, but this sounds like you're asking us to go a lot farther."

"I am, soldier. I'm asking you to go all the way." Ames had a grim smile. "It isn't going to be easy. Once the Galactics realize what you're doing, they'll come for you. I’ll be straight. We need to have a human-owned outpost at the end of Phase 2. We need to get representatives into Phase 3. That's where the real deals are made. That's where they're going to decide who owns our solar system. You realize what happens when all of this is over?"

I nodded. I had picked up that much from Veda. "They move a couple quadrillion aliens into this reality engine."

"Right. And Earth becomes the most backwoods reservation you've ever heard of. I know where you grew up, Lieutenant. I've seen your family background. You know what that means. Imagine all of Earth being treated the way the United States has treated your native kinfolk. Shoved off into the worst pockets of land. Any time someone finds gold or oil, there'll be a well-backed businessman there to swindle them out of it."

He let that sink in. I knew very well what he was talking about.

"Well, we're going to do our best to make sure that's not the case. We're not going to be able to claim this reality engine for ourselves. That's not in the cards. But we might be able to claim a piece of it. That'll get us a seat at the table. Not much of one. We'll be like Rwanda at the UN, getting a few pity invites to cocktail parties and an aid package thrown our way now and then. But that's still better than not being at the party at all."

He stood up. "It was good to meet you, Lieutenant. Convey my regards to your grandfather. I've read his profile. Tell him I know he'll do what's right and that I have faith in his willingness to take decisive action."

I watched as Ames strode off and disappeared, my mind full. It took an effort not to salute as he went, but we were being undercover here and neither of us was in uniform.

Ames seemed like everything Waters hadn’t been. Patriotic. Forward-thinking. Decisive. But I wanted to know what was going on. Who were his allies? Were they just using us humans for their own game, or was there a chance we could wrest a victory out of this massive shitstorm?

I wandered the station for a while after that, thinking about everything Ames had said. My mind whirled. I had gotten almost comfortable in the last few months with being part of a coalition, taking risks, doing what had to be done. I was making a difference.

Now we were being recruited into a much bigger fight, and I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about that.

I finally stopped at one of the stalls and bought a present for Sage. I couldn't resist. The whole booth was western-themed gear, shaped like a wooden saloon door with a counter over it. Behind the counter was a row of glass whiskey bottles. Sombreros, cowboy hats, and preposterous Indian war bonnets like the worst Hollywood movies showed hung from the roof of the booth. On the counter was a cow skull, complete with horns.

When I stopped, the sales clerk, who looked like her ancestors had been snakes but possessed arms and legs like me, took a look at me and hissed, a long tongue protruding from between her lips. "You are one of the human minersss," she said.

"I am."

"You look like a good candidate for advertisssssing."

She pointed at some posters on her back wall. One of them showed John Wayne from one of his cowboy movies. The other was Roy Rogers atop his horse. "You interested in advertissssing deal?"

"I might be," I said. "Assuming there's good coin in it."

"Best," she said and smiled with her wide, lipless mouth.

I pointed at a pink cowgirl hat next to a bright green sombrero. "And that. My sister will love it."

I came away with the pink hat, a pocket full of SoulCoin credits, and an advertising deal with her booth. This time, the Indian had got the better of the pale faces.