Veteran (46 page)

‘Maybe that’s how it would start. Look, we’ve abdicated responsibility to our leaders for too long; we need to take responsibility for ourselves,’ I told him.

‘Which sounds great but is meaningless in terms of implementing it,’ Mudge said.

‘We don’t implement anything,’ I said. ‘We just tell the truth.’

‘What do you have in mind?’ Pagan asked, taking an interest.

‘Starting with the war, we have God reveal every secret there is on the net. Programme it to reveal the objective truth to the best of its abilities. We then have it so it can arrange a system-wide and completely secure referendum—’

‘Tyranny by majority,’ Mudge pointed out.

‘Got a better idea?’ I asked.

‘Take control, murder the Cabal, negotiate peace with Them and then try and make things fairer,’ Mudge said.

‘I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to. If
you
take control of the net the first thing you’ll do is have a crate of vodka and a crate of drugs delivered to you before continuing your quest for the perfect prostitute,’ I pointed out.

‘Shame your mum’s dead,’ Mudge said and grinned. I felt a surge of anger at his attempt at humour but let it pass.

‘Do you really want to rule the world, Mudge?’ Gregor asked gently. I saw Mudge falter.

‘Well ... I thought, not me but...’ he said.

‘Who then?’ I asked. ‘We’re it, man. I ain’t doing it, Pagan won’t, you don’t trust Gregor or Morag. Balor’s a psychotic. No offence.’

‘Offence taken,’ Balor said quietly.

‘Rannu?’ I asked.

‘I don’t want to,’ Rannu said.

‘That leaves Buck and Gibby,’ I replied.

‘Hell yeah!’ Buck said. ‘I always knew I’d amount to something.’

‘He’s not serious,’ Gibby said. Buck looked genuinely disappointed.

‘Do you have any idea how dangerous telling people the truth about everything would be?’ Balor asked quietly.

‘He’s right,’ Pagan added. ‘Lies are used for protective purposes as well as to deceive. This could - this will - cause chaos.’

‘It will tear our society apart,’ Balor said and then grinned. ‘I’m warming to this plan.’

‘I don’t care,’ I said and poured myself another drink. ‘You’re right about lies, but we need to grow up sometimes, and as for our society, what we have now’s not good enough.’

‘But—’ Mudge began.

‘We could argue about this from now until the Cabal finds us. If this works it will mean a huge change for everyone. We could never cover every argument and counter-argument. Either we act or we don’t act,’ Rannu said.

‘But we haven’t come to a decision,’ Pagan said.

‘We’ve got two ideas: either we use God to control the net or we programme God to tell everyone the truth about everything,’ Morag said.

‘And destroy society,’ Mudge added.

‘You value tyranny by majority so much, let’s vote on it,’ Balor said, his voice all but a whisper now.

Morag shrugged. ‘All those in favour of ruling the net?’ she asked.

Buck’s hand shot up. After some consideration Gibby’s went up as well, then Balor’s. I watched Mudge struggle but he didn’t put up his hand.

‘All those in favour of telling the truth?’ Morag asked. I put my hand up; so did Morag. Rannu predictably followed her. Gregor put his hand up as well. Pagan was still thinking. Mudge just shook his head. Finally Pagan put his hand up.

‘So whatever happens, it wasn’t your decision?’ Pagan said to Mudge.

‘Damn straight, just abrogating my responsibility again,’ he said, staring at me.

‘What about the Demiurge?’ I asked Pagan.

‘What about it? If they meet, I have no idea what will happen.’

‘We could programme God to resist it?’ Morag suggested.

‘Should we?’ Pagan asked.

‘Yes,’ I said. The others nodded.

‘Do Rolleston and his people know about God?’ Mudge asked.

‘We’ve no reason to believe so, unless he had intelligence resources in New York,’ Pagan answered.

Balor shook his head. ‘Our discussion was clean, unless Rannu reported in before he changed sides,’ he said.

‘No, I always keep stories about my targets trying to create God out of my official reports. It makes me sound less insane,’ Rannu said without a trace of humour.

‘Besides, who’d believe it?’ I asked. ‘So as far as we know, the Cabal has no reason to rush Demiurge into the net?’ Pagan and Gregor nodded. ‘Will they respond with Demiurge?’

‘That may be the only thing capable of destroying the net,’ Morag said. ‘It would be a very destructive fight and they would have little to gain.’

I could see that Pagan wasn’t convinced but he didn’t say anything.

‘So how long to set God’s parameters?’ I asked.

‘Three to maybe four hours’ work,’ Morag said. Pagan nodded in a resigned manner.

‘Then what?’ Mudge asked. ‘You just release it into the net?’

Pagan considered this. ‘That’s one way of doing it, but it would take a while because of its size, and during the initial stages it would be potentially vulnerable. A node of some kind, a place capable of downloading huge amounts of information very quickly, would be ideal, but we’d have to do it at source.’

‘Like a site?’ I asked. Pagan shook his head.

‘Like a media node?’ Mudge asked.

‘Perhaps,’ Pagan said. Mudge grinned.

‘Mudge?’ I said. He looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. ‘I don’t want to kill anyone else.’ He nodded.

Morag was staring at me.

25

Atlantis

Casually dressed and heavily armed, I had more drugs in me than in a Carrion’s dispensary; just enough to keep me upright, make the pain tolerable and stop the nausea from overwhelming me. I leant against the transport cockpit’s door frame. Gibby’s hands moved across the keyboard, playing something almost bluesy, Buck accompanying him softly on the guitar.

Through the window I could see our lights play over the reinforced concrete of the Spoke as Gibby used the enormous structure to guide his ascent. Below us we could see the
Mountain Princess,
docked close to several similarly sized ore transports, becoming smaller and smaller.

Morag came and stood by me. Pagan was in the back taking care of Atlantis air traffic control. He and Morag had spent the last six hours setting God’s parameters and getting the program ready to run. The rest of us had spent it sleeping and prepping kit in preparation for Mudge’s half-arsed plan. I’d thrown up some blood as well. I wasn’t sure how real any of this was at the moment - me dying, God, any of it. I think I was just functioning on nerves, a cocktail of drugs and good whisky. The good whisky was almost finished.

Morag was looking out. Light shone through windows in the Spoke and from its aircraft hazard lights, and searchlight beams stabbed high into the night sky. We passed the landing decks growing out from the tower like fungus. We passed balconies of rich revellers who waved at us, unaware that if even half of what Pagan and Morag had said was true then their world was going to be changed tonight. We manoeuvred past other transports, many of them much larger than ours. We passed copters, aircars and various other aircraft, though we kept well clear of shuttle air paths. We rose past factory levels, shopping levels, garishly lit entertainment levels and accommodation levels. We passed huge viz screens mostly showing adverts for things that nobody but Balor could have afforded, and if he wanted he would’ve stolen them anyway. On one of the screens there was footage from the war but you couldn’t see the faces of the soldiers. That was good. I didn’t want to see the suffering faces of people I could be about to betray. Morag took it all in with a near-fixed expression of wonder on her face. I split my time between looking out the window at the tower of light and looking at her.

The Spoke was suddenly obscured by cloud. I heard the engines of the transport change tone as Gibby and Buck pushed it back further from the Spoke until the aircraft hazard lights were just a glow in the distance. I knew the transport’s sensors and their vehicle interface software would have created a three-dimensional topographical map of the Spoke which they were using to pilot. I heard a sigh from Morag. She turned to head back into the cargo bay.

‘Wait,’ I said. She stopped, turned, and I nodded out the window. When we rose out of the clouds, shaking off the last wispy tendrils of water vapour, Atlantis was a thin neon tower against the deep-blue backdrop of the night sky. It was reaching up as far as the eye could see towards space. Morag craned her neck to look up through the clear composite bubble of the cockpit. I was glad I saw this before I died. I was glad Morag saw this before she died. I wondered about the people who could afford to live here. Did they still appreciate this or was it all just commonplace to them? I hope they still appreciated it. It didn’t bode well for their souls if they didn’t feel awe at this feat of engineering and beauty.

There was less traffic up here, though more of it was security. These were the executive levels - various corporate enclaves, office and living spaces in the same areas. Higher up were the lift docks and more landing areas for the heavy commercial traffic. I heard the turbines whine again and Gibby and Buck’s music change as the transport pushed back even further from the Spoke. Looking up I felt I was looking at the edge of space. Using my optics I could just about see where the building ended and there was only the cable structure leading to orbit, High Atlantis and the asteroid tether.

‘See it?’ Gibby asked Morag, and pointed upwards. She looked up. I couldn’t make out what he was talking about.

‘No,’ she said, her face screwing up in concentration. Buck’s tune changed, as did the display overlaid on the cockpit windscreen. It showed the same part of the Spoke but now much magnified. I could see the huge multi-storeyed elevator sliding down the cable at speed. It was lit up like a Christmas tree. I’d seen Christmas trees on vizzes.

‘Looks like one of the luxury ones,’ Buck said. ‘High-velocity, five-star hotel.’ Morag was just staring at it. I realised I was grinning. We watched as it sank into the Spoke’s superstructure; even then we could see it moving within the massive building. I was feeling less cynical about this. We, humans, I meant, could build this, and John Coltrane could record
A Love Supreme,
and the Sixteen Men of Tain still made Glenmorangie. Those three things were proof that we deserved more than this constant, grinding war. I think that was when I started to hope a bit. So I was less than pleased when I turned round to see Mudge wearing only cowboy boots, boxer shorts and a string vest. He had a full bottle of vodka in one hand and his AK in the other. A joint hung out the side of his mouth. I could see both his precision-engineered, high-speed prosthetic legs.

‘What’ve you come as?’ I asked.

‘Dude, this is what the revolution looks like,’ he said, grinning.

I maybe should’ve seen something like this coming. ‘You don’t think you’re going to lack credibility?’ I asked, more politely than I felt.

‘I need to feel comfortable, man,’ he said.

I looked him up and down. ‘And you feel comfortable like that?’

‘I know you like what you see,’ he said and winked at me. Morag burst out laughing.

‘You’re just trying to piss off Pagan, aren’t you?’ I said. Gregor seemed to rise up behind him. I was becoming more use to his skewed physiology. He was wearing a long coat but it didn’t hang right. He had an ammo drum strapped to his back and was carrying a Retributor, apparently with ease.

‘You look like a twat,’ Gregor said to Mudge. Mudge looked over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised.

‘The weird-looking alien’s right,’ I agreed. ‘You realise if this is as big a deal as Pagan’s making out you will be recorded for posterity looking like that.’ Morag was still grinning.

‘Trust me. When I’ve finished everyone will be dressing like this,’ he said.

‘I won’t!’ Morag burst out.

‘You’d look good in a string vest,’ I suggested.

‘Your mum’ll see you dressed like that,’ Gregor pointed out.

‘Mum’ll love it, she’ll be proud,’ Mudge said.

‘We’re down in thirty seconds,’ Gibby warned.

We were going to go in there, take over the broadcast node, download God and start broadcasting. It wouldn’t take them long to take us down, but by then the damage would be done. I looked around at us all as the transport came into dock at some generic broadcast node. We were going to die doing something incredibly stupid. That appealed to me - my life had been incredibly stupid. I would rather have been a musician. Why couldn’t I get
A Love Supreme
out of my head? This would be a good enough way to die. It was a shame Morag had to go, a shame that she didn’t get a chance to experience more. I found myself grinning. Mudge was grinning as well.

‘You realise if this works everyone has the potential to know every little secret out there? We could turn the world into a huge riot. Scores will be getting settled left, right and centre. This entire system could burn,’ I said.

‘Something has to change,’ Mudge said seriously.

‘Is this how?’ I asked.

‘How long should we keep second-guessing ourselves?’ he asked. I felt the transport get blown sideways as Gibby fought the high cross-winds whipping round the Spoke. Finally the transport lurched and landed with a thump. I heard a clang as a walkway mated with the doorway of the transport.

‘So we’re not taking this seriously then?’ Pagan asked, staring at Mudge, his face a mask of barely controlled fury. Gregor loomed over the hacker.

‘You die your way, let him die his,’ he said. I saw Mudge glance at the hybrid. Mudge’s expression was unreadable.

I noticed there were tears in Morag’s eyes. As Gregor and Mudge moved by me to the door I leant in close to her.

‘You okay?’ I asked her stupidly.

She smiled. ‘Scared. So this is it?’

I didn’t know what to say to her. How could I tell her that this might be best, that this was much better than the way her life would’ve turned out? Instead I decided to behave like a male, completely selfishly. I leant in and kissed her. At first she tensed. Not only was she still angry at me for being a prick, and rightly so, but I must’ve looked awful covered in angry red bleeding sores with a sickly looking, greyish skin tone. I was kind of surprised she didn’t throw up. Then she reciprocated, one hand reaching up for me, the other pushed against my chest over my modified heart. It seemed to last a long time and was over very quickly. Surprisingly the others were good enough to remain quiet.