“TO BEGIN,” SHE PROCLAIMED, “we worked with Edgar’s team to develop and implement a comprehensive messaging plan . . .”
Her monologue was interrupted by Ron’s jarring, obnoxious laugh. A few others joined him as was typical of his sycophant ministers who understood what would come next.
“Bullshit,” he blistered. “You never work together. You’ve fucking hated each other ever since I introduced you. Don’t you know your stress indicators spike even mentioning him? Do you think I keep this expensive monitoring tech in my toolbox for fun? I know everything you simpletons engage in. Every friggin’ thought you have. But what I like is your mutual animosity toward each other, your detestable natures. That’s why I keep you together on my team. A little friction and competition keeps you at your best for me, as pathetic as your best often is. I know this. Imp confirms this.”
No different than the lion’s roar to the lionesses, this was Ron’s way, or Imp’s way, of signaling and ensuring dominance. He was utterly predictable with his epithets, and she knew enough to stay quiet until he was done.
“What are you waiting for?” he protested, his hand waving her to proceed. “I expect to see the best here. I want a comprehensive plan, one that is underway as we speak. And I demand damage control since it was all of you and your failures that brought this on me. Do you know how the world sees me at this moment? Do you?”
He pressed his scowling face outward and stared directly at each of his ministers, as if he could burn his hatred right through them.
“Once more, you fucked up. I should throw every damn one of you out and let the coyotes have their way with your carcasses. My balls are hanging high and my enemies are holding their bats and paddles in the air ready to take a whack at me. To detach at least one of my little boys. To take me out forever. So, I want to see this wonderful plan you’ve devised.”
He slammed the desk hard with his mechanized arm. “Once again you’ll try to place a blanket of dog shit over your failures. Nobody cares about you. Nobody thinks about you, your teams, or power structures. Your employees would just as soon crawl over your corpses without remorse, hoping to lead your ministries themselves and not thinking for a second about any allegiance they may have had to you personally.”
She was wondering why he was worked up more than usual. Crazy shit was happening everywhere in the world, and Vista had its share. They couldn’t know everything that might happen. Even Imp, with his superior AI brain, couldn’t see the future that well.
“They’d prefer to hear the sound of your cricket backbones snap and grind as they walk over you and get great satisfaction from that. You place too much faith in your teams. You are too comfortable in your positions of power. But my ass, my ass and nuts, are bared to the world because I let you constantly get away with shit.”
He grimaced sourly at the team, showing how much he despised them.
“My incompetent counterparts are not so generous, you slugs. Anywhere else, you’d be glue factory fodder. So, go Sara Shithouse. Defecate your wonderful comms plan. Puke it out for our virgin ears. But I want all ministers to be on notice. When you fucked me by letting this embarrassment happen, you fucked yourself and your teams. Everyone will pay the price for this indiscretion; this day of infamy.”
Spittle was hanging from the corners of Ron’s mouth, and those seated nearest to him discretely wiped the poisonous excretion he spewed from their hands and arms.
“Go,” he waived again. “I just wanted you to know how you let me down, despite all I do for you. I’m done,” he barked, slapping the heavy table with such power that it rose momentarily on Sara’s end. “Time’s wasting! Get on with it!”
This was her signal. “I’d ask you all, excluding the boss, of course, to let me get through this without questions, interruptions, and other signs of disagreement or discomfort.”
First, she would play her own victim card.
“My team is small, and given the time pressure and need for secrecy, I couldn’t have the benefit of engaging with all of them. We dropped everything for this, given the criticality, and executing this plan is consuming our resources.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Ron stammered. “You’re pitiful. Where’s your disgusting plan?”
She acknowledged him with a nod. Clearly, he heard her plea for more time to perfect the plan.
“Good, then. Let’s first consider our primary conservative and progressive channels.”
Sara had specifically told her team to avoid the use of visuals for her presentation. She knew any factual or counter-factual data in a visual presentation would open the door for Edgar to steal the show, to prove her wrong, and to embellish the accomplishments of his team. Besides, this was her moment as the center of attention.
“We are already executing well-considered messages throughout all channels, but most heavily in the conservative and liberal feeds. At the same time, we and our various data sources continue to monitor reactions from around the globe. As we are aware from the last few hours of global feeds, the brightness of the laser blast was approximately that of ten thousand suns for the hundred-plus seconds of its duration.”
She glanced to Benjamin Wook, the Minister of Science and Technology, to deflect some of Ron’s negative energy toward him instead. He was one of Ron’s favorites and took the cue.
Wook was hairless from head to toe, a result of a DNA change to satisfy his desire to eliminate the need to shave, cut his locks, or concern himself with what he considered the dirtiness and filth of human hair. Almost every feature of his being was augmented in some way. His corneas had been replaced with data-fed artificial lenses. His limbs were fully mech’d implementations of flesh and metal. Genetically, he had integrated transgenic DNA from multiple animals into his body, including olfactory senses from silk moths that caused his mouth to constantly twitch from side to side.
“About ten petawatts of power was consumed over a one hundred ten second period. Eleven bursts of ten seconds. A twelfth burst was apparently cut short by the missile strike. As Ron indicated, there was enough information carrying capacity in a multiphased laser during this amount of time to transmit virtually all the known data in the world, down to everyone’s DNA, within each of those ten second bursts.”
He stopped there, knowing any speculation beyond the known facts would collide head-on with Ron’s wrath.
“And the brightness, Benjamin?” Sara queried.
“Yes, the brightness was picked up by multiple Westrich satellites in the area. Because it was a laser with petawatt power, enough ambient photons escaped for virtually anyone within visible range to see the transmission occur. However, only those within close proximity of the direct and very narrow path of the laser could decode and decipher the specific messages.”
Sara noticed from the corner of her eye that Ron’s right fist was clenching again and the veins in his neck were bulging. A bad sign, for sure. She needed to wrest control of his reaction before the next outburst.
“Regardless,” she continued, “we must assume the signal was captured, at least in part, by any of countless terrestrial and orbital monitoring systems. We are closely watching the other Westrich domains and all other nation-states. As expected, most are actively creating narratives of this event to their advantage. Our objective is to mitigate any attempts at pinning this on Ron and his base of power. In order to do this, we’ve already started messaging per our standard ‘Five D’ execution strategy.”
“Help us again with the Five Ds?” Edgar interjected, shaking his head in barely perceptible disgust.
She frowned, angered she needed to repeat something that had often been included in her previous discussions in staff meetings.
“Of course. Our standard comms plans include our Five Ds. Deny. Divert. Distract. Detract. Deceive. These principles are at the center of all we ever communicate. Can I continue now?”
She nodded ungraciously at him. He didn’t dare acknowledge.
“We are out in front of this. From the critical and accusatory messages we’re seeing already from global sources, most are targeting the source as Northern Arizona and therefore Vista.”
All eyes were on her. This was her moment. Her display of control and competency.
“Our denial strategy is in full execution mode. We forced our progressive channels to immediately spin multiple, confusing narratives and counter-narratives. For example, one narrative is that this signal was from an obscure Navajo sect messaging their god-creators to come back and restore their native lands. This narrative hits on liberals who align their belief systems with minority groups continuously wronged over time. We have a no more effective target for this narrative than our indigenous tribes, given our relative lack of support for them and their continued autonomy and almost neglect of Ron and what he’s done for them..”
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She stopped for a sip of water and to sense Ron’s mood.
“Another counter-narrative for liberals? That our budgets have been squeezed beyond measure, creating risks for Westrich and thus the larger world. It’s Westrich’s fault, not ours. We are the smallest in size and industrial capacity but the largest in land mass. We don’t get enough monetary support from Westrich to cover essential services for handling our numerous emergent infections and genetic infestations. We are playing-up that we are the scrappy guy, doing the best we can with the little funding we get, with geographic challenges that far exceed the other two domains and even other nation-states.”
“Good,” she thought, scanning the room. They are all engaged, even Ron.
“As a double benefit, this is also a crossover narrative that works in our conservative channels since it explains why we cannot effectively police societal deviants as effectively as the other domains. We are David, while California and Hedron are Goliaths, and they are treating us, and especially Ron, mercilessly. They get all the benefits of trading with Pacific Rim partners while refusing to share their wealth and riches with us. We in Vista give them much in resources and treasure, however, they always expect more for less despite being their front lines in the ongoing skirmishes with Southern and Bolivar. These are just two of multiple narratives we’ve already broadcast across our channels for the liberal and progressive cohort subsets. But let me continue down the list.”
Sara was standing at the end of the oval table opposite to Ron, glancing across the team and keeping a watchful eye on his reactions. He was stone-faced thus far.
“As we know, it’s easier to speak to and readily influence the conservative base since their fear and entitlement constructs are richer and more predictable than the progressives. The primary narrative we’re executing engages with their innate paranoia. Southern continues to back radical pockets of dissidents and genetic terrorists trying to eliminate or weaken our population and overtake our God-provided lands. None of that will be new news to this cohort because we regularly spin such narratives. However, this time we have a very visible, in a literal sense, global event that ties effectively into our historical messaging. This laser blast was proof that radical, leftist pockets exist, even in the remotest parts of Westrich.”
“Don’t go too far with that,” Edgar interjected. “We don’t want our own people getting too riled up with each other to the point of civil war.”
That was always a concern everyone understood. She ignored him.
“The blame is focused on Southern. It continues to threaten our resources and livelihoods. They are doing all they can to get unfair and access to our mineral wealth. They desire more land, given the continued flooding of their low elevation areas. They need our vast high, sunny plains for their solar and wind farms. They are rebuffing Ron’s constant attempts to bring peace to the border and ensure free flow of goods. They are belligerent cowards, always using underhanded, devious means to effect their goal of dominating then eliminating us despite our innocence and righteousness.”
“Here, here,” Ron interjected with a smile, another sign that Sara was on track.
“This event plays especially well for the significant, powerful religious conservative cohorts. We already sent messages into those channels that this signal is most likely tied to the obelisk crash of 2037. The platinum-gold object falling to Earth was the first indication that aliens were about to attack. Sub-cohorts in this group are such effective prey for this narrative.”
She paused momentarily, giving just enough time for the others to fall to her intended conclusion.
“This signal was from a devious alien source who was messaging back from Earth to our imminent interstellar invaders. The laser blast was their green light to finally attack us. They have been waiting for the right moment, and now is the time. In case we determine the message in the signal, and if the message includes any information about the world, or even if it doesn’t, then we’ll explain, ‘see, this is a set up. This is the signal that exposes humanity’s weaknesses and frailties. It’s the beginning of the end. An indication that Armageddon is around the corner. You God-fearing souls who have maintained your zeal, you who have stayed pure to the message, will soon be risen from Earth while our alien visitors fry the world’s sinners to a crisp.’ Indeed, it’s hard to develop a better storyline for this sub-cohort of conservatives.”
Ron shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Imp tells me there’s some risk in this. Risk that this cohort may congregate. Take to the streets. Proceed as if they had God’s approval and grace to cleanse the world right now of its sinners before marauders ever arrived from space. Help their God exact his vengeance per their ancient revelations. Did your plans take that into account?”
“Of course!” she responded. “We know from our prior comms to this cohort that they can be volatile, easily aroused to anger and fear, and highly vindictive and judgmental. We love them for all these traits. But we know we can only go so far. If our metrics show the socials indicate excessive calls to violent action, we’ll modify our narratives. We’ll re-message that the signal was of earthly origin, pointed at nothing specifically, with a simple message of peace and hope. Hell, we could even lace the message with counter-narratives like it being of Muslim or Buddhist origin, as long as it kept them angry but mitigated their fears about a realization of their prophecies. We’ll work it and continue to monitor their reactions as usual since this group can be more readily sculpted in real-time.”
Her comments appeared to appease Ron’s concern for the moment.
“Additionally,” she continued, “we will influence the narratives of their religious leaders since they are so closely bound to Ron, irrespective of what he might do for them. At our insistence, they might urge their flocks to pray for the world and to further prepare according to their scriptures. We have many ways to coerce these cohorts and their mouthpieces, and my team has unparalleled experts working all contingencies.”
“And what else for conservatives?”
“Good,” she thought. “More questions from Ron. For once, he’s actually engaged and present.”
“I’ve barely started, but a most obvious one is to play off their fears and paranoia of another Debacle. That the world is full of fearful things. Dangerous left-leaning cults and religions, lone wolves, radical ideas, each with the potential to destroy humanity. We’ll hit harder on the democratization of virulent technology, that every neighbor is a budding geneticist with the next infective agent growing away in their basement test tubes. That this event is one very visible indication that criminals are everywhere. That people who are not like you, who don’t conform to your ideals and beliefs, are your biggest threats. This diverts attention away from our little domain and places it into the global system of fear about the other Westrich domains or other nation-states, over which nobody has control. We are living in very tenuous times. We must be on our watch, preparing for the worst realization of human or hybrid nature. The end of days is near. We regurgitate that narrative in some form regularly through their leaders and media, and they continue to soak it up. Easy extensions of our current comms.”
“When will you get to my contributions about enhanced predictive capabilities?” Edgar interjected, indicating he was looking to exaggerate his participation in the plan.
Patronizing Edgar was the best way to entrap him.
“Yes, Edgar, I was saving the best for last. Per the discussion you and I had today, we’ll spin your narrative that Vista has set aside a portion of its pathetically tiny defense budget to create the latest advancement in predictive control and monitoring tech, something so effective that it stretches credulity. At least for those nerds who are interested, we previously released stories on quantum coupling and the potential to affect space-time such that crimes can be determined before they arise. The new narrative will claim that we are combining these amazing new findings with the world-class predictive abilities of our AI-based defensive systems. We’ll claim this combination provides nearly one hundred percent accuracy in predicting all manner of risks and attacks from friends and enemies alike.”
Ron laughed aloud, throwing his hands behind his head and setting his long legs and feet upon the table. This was another typical dominance display, Sara knew, but it was a positive one. He only did this when he was more relaxed, and knowing Ron was calmed in the slightest was a good sign in light of the challenges facing them.
“Bravo!” he exclaimed.
Benjamin was visibly perturbed that this theoretical tech was being discussed in staff without any participation from him. “Even with Imp, even with our security systems,” he warned, “we are nowhere near this level of predictive accuracy. Do you understand how little truth is in this quantum predictive shit?”
Edgar jumped in before Benjamin could continue. He would not allow anybody to steal the thunder from this idea.
“As you know, Benjamin, the theory is on paper only and nothing is proven in labs. Regardless, this claim places California and Hedron, in addition to all global nation-states, on alert. Who would want to rise against a domain that could predict, and therefore easily counter, every aggressive move they were about to make? It’s the perfect defense weapon, like the silent-running nuclear subs from last century. Besides, nobody has made any progress in this area. Everyone knows the theory is just some university bullshit in study phase. That’s why it’s such rich fodder to advance our case that Vista has the most aggressive and capable intelligence, tech, and systems, despite budgets. The claim sucks the oxygen from the room, drawing attention and energy away from this laser event.”
“Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed.
With Edgar gaining momentum, Sara grasped the reins. “More than that, though. It also strengthens our position with those bellicose conservative cohorts. They’ll believe our new superior shit will advantage and protect us. Protect their businesses and property. All they hold of value, even their families. It further endears them to Ron and assures them he is ever-present, ever-vigilant, ever-caring about their social status. He has the best teams. The best tech. He is the winner, and since you live in his domain, you are the winner as well. Stick with him. Support him and all he does for you and your investments. This narrative even extends to the liberals. It works across all cohorts in the domain since everyone remains paranoid for good reason.”
“Good plan for once, but I’m not hearing any direct misinformation campaigns. What gives?” Ron protested.
Sara breathed deeply and belted a roaring retort. “That’s rolling along well, sir. For example, foreign feeds are showing satellite images of the destroyed laser location in Arizona. One story is that the bright light was simply a meteorite and nothing else. It left a crater, scientists are searching for the fragments of metal, and they’ve even located some. That’s just one lead story of many that we are rolling out.”
“What else you got?” Ron questioned. “I’ve heard enough. What else you got?”
This was an indication that he was confident in the plan and wanted to cut the conversation short.
“I didn’t cover all channels we are working across the various cohorts. They are variations on these and other themes, mostly focused on diverting attention elsewhere. We’ll confuse and distract their vidscreen and Vistachit feeds with the typical innocuous and salacious crap about movie stars and celebrities. We’re mixing this with stories on our herds of social deviants, new and disgusting forms of genetic hybridization, and plagues released by other nation-states. The normal array of hardly credible stories with a hangnail of reality. A sweet, continuous stream of conflicting, amygdala-activating bullshit.”
Ron grimaced. “Fine then. I approve. Go execute and make no mistakes. Any questions from the team?”
This was Ron’s sign he wanted no questions or comments. All nodded their heads in unison.