Cassandra Kresnov 5: Operation Shield (34 page)

“And stayed out of their business,” Ari added. “There's a new political party in the GC advocating pretty much that.”

“Oh, no,” Sinta breathed. “You think those calls from Ballan's office to Idi Aba were someone warning him to drop whatever he was onto?”

“Could be. And when he didn't, it got passed onto someone higher who
did more than just threaten. 2389’s been attacking emancipation activists left and right lately, verbally at least, saying they'll provoke the League and what we all need right now is a kinder, gentler Federation that doesn't go around upsetting people. You get what I'm thinking now?”

Sinta nodded.

“Good,” said Ari. “So if you want to work with me on this, here's my deal. I'll dig as much as I can into the Grand Council and all the places you can't access. You do all the legwork on Idi Aba that cops are much better at than CSA, tell me what he was organising, what he was into, why he might have upset someone in 2389 or anywhere else. And also, I don't know what your personal security situation is like, but take all precautions and if you don't think you're secure enough, call me and I'll put someone onto it. We've got systems cops don't get, and your superiors don't need to know.”

Sinta was staring at the tabletop, a knuckle in her teeth. “God damn it,” she muttered.

“Ah, yes,” said Ari. “They all think it's such a great idea to come and bother Ari with their cases and their problems. Then they change their minds. Hey, are you single?”

Rishi watched a debate on the flight up. It was between a woman, who was spokesperson for the new Grand Council Party 2389, and a man, who spoke for the present Federalist position. It was the big political news story, everyone was watching it…except of course for the ninety percent of the Callayan population who, when they weren't working, were watching anything but.

“…
no one is arguing that what happened on Pyeongwha wasn't the most tragic, awful thing
,” the 2389 woman was saying. She was older, white-haired, and elegant. “
But what Federal Constitutionalists like myself are arguing is that the precedent unleashed by Federal intervention on Pyeongwha, whatever short-term gains might be apparent, will ultimately be much worse. And look, even now we see guerilla war commencing against the new Pyeongwha provisional government and its Federal backers, a few hundred dead so far and that number will surely escalate before long, so the short-term gains would appear illusory also.
”

The FSA jet bumped a little through the troposphere, nearly Mach Four and the five-thousand-kilometer flight would take barely an hour and a half all told. Rishi ate a small bowl of fruit salad and sipped a glass of red wine provided by the stewardess—it was just her, Rishi, and the apparently junior female FSA officer accompanying her in the cabin, seating for up to twenty others left empty. The FSA were certainly being very nice to go to all this trouble just for her.

“
But you are saying exactly that
,” the spokesman countered. Spokesman for what, Rishi hadn't entirely figured—2389 was the only party in the Grand Council. Spokesman for all the others, she supposed. Not an ambassador but senior staff. “
You're saying exactly that Pyeongwha wasn't a bad enough situation to warrant interfering, and I'm sorry, maybe it's just me, but the vision of all those people being gruesomely murdered by the lunatics who ran the place tells me otherwise. Pyeongwha is not a foreign state, it's a MEMBER state, and member states of the Federation only enjoy their rights as Federation members so long as they abide by their obligations, foremost of which is that they can't massacre their own citizens. Pyeongwha abrogated that right, and so is denied all rights as a Federation member as well
—
membership should and does have conditions, otherwise what's the point of having a Federation at all?
”

And from there it degenerated into a series of increasingly personal arguments about what the founders of the Federal constitution truly envisioned, and whether that vision was relevant any longer. Rishi didn't know what to make of it. She was a new arrival and lived now on a mostly deserted island archipelago a third of the planet's circumference from Tanusha. They didn't get a lot of news there, though she tried to watch some, during breaks in construction work. It all seemed so distant there.

The jet circled around Tanusha at altitude, coming in to a gradual hover at a district where the city sprawl abruptly ended at virgin forests and rivers. Building there was illegal until authorised, the bored junior agent informed her when she asked—every centimeter of Tanusha was planned. Certainly it looked every bit as impressive as Sandy had described it, and as she'd seen herself, briefly, on a very impressive VR Sandy had shown her some months back. A hell of a long way to come from Droze, that was certain.

They landed vertically on a pad between officious-looking buildings, then walked to one of them, across pleasant grassy gardens, trees everywhere. The FSA building was nice too, air-conditioned with lots of glass and wide spaces. She barely had to check through any security, the agent accompanying her just handed her off to another agent, who walked her though various halls and offices, then across an air bridge to an adjoining building that she immediately recognised as medical, because it looked like Chancelry medical back on Droze, only way more advanced and pleasant.

There she was handed off again to a couple of doctors, and the guard disappeared completely. That surprised her. No security at all. Though of course they'd be monitoring her, and probably there were FSA-employed GIs nearby, just in case, little good a non-GI agent could do if she suddenly did decide to turn on them. As if she would, now of all times, when she had nowhere else to go.

The doctors took her to the new floor of the medical wing, which she was told had been deserted until just recently, FSA HQ having been built several sizes too large with the intention to grow into it. Here in the first ward was Stezy, female GI, a 42 series. She was completely immobile here, which was good, because back in Chancelry she'd occasionally convulsed when they
reduced the drug dosage, damaging equipment and requiring restraints. She had a mask on her face and a tube in her mouth, and advanced equipment monitored every function.

“We've tried to make contact through VR,” Doctor Singh explained to her, “but though her uplinks seem to be functioning, we just don't think there's very much going on.” He seemed very nice, and quite sad at the fate of this Chancelry GI he'd never known. And he wore a red turban, which Rishi thought was odd; people didn't wear stuff like that on Droze, or not that she'd seen. Certainly they hadn't around GIs in Chancelry Corporation. “We'll keep trying until we can establish what degree of mental function she has, and what if anything we can do to increase that function. I must warn you that our best estimate is that we can't really do anything, but we'll try. And then, if she's adjudged to be mentally nonfunctional to even the primary degree required, then we'll have to discuss with you appointing someone to act as the guarantor of her legal rights. When it comes to making the decision on whether to turn off her life support, you understand.”

Rishi nodded, not really having expected anything else. “You don't want to keep her alive to study her?”

“That would be illegal under Federation law,” said Doctor Singh. “Certainly we can keep her alive longer to study her if we can demonstrate material benefit to the lives of these other GIs in our care, but if we can't establish that, we're not allowed to keep a brain-dead body alive for reasons of any other profit. But we'll need someone to be appointed her official guardian. If that person is you, then you can meet with Stezy's lawyer while you're here to make sure you understand how all the legal clauses work in her case, and in others. And then if you wish you can talk about it with your other friends down in Malina, whatever you choose, just so long as you understand that by Callayan law, where we can't establish the wishes of the patient, the guardian holds most of the cards and we have to do what you say, within reason.”

Rishi felt dazed. Rights, he said. Sandy had told her about this too—in the Federation, GIs had the same rights as everyone else. Lawyers, clauses…it was confusing, but it was good too. Director Ibrahim had assured her that the Chancelry medical cases would be well looked after, and it seemed he'd kept his word. Cassandra had assured her the same, back on Droze, and it looked like she'd been right too.

In the next ward was Melvin, similarly restrained, but with less life support. He drooled and stared blankly at a wall. Dr Singh explained that he was just as brain damaged as previously feared, but that with time they might be able to restore some more pathways and improve cognitive function, since he was still so young. But most likely he'd be little more than a vegetable for life. Despite the expense, someone in the government would keep him on and look after him; euthanasia was only legal on Callay for the brain-dead and irrecoverable, with technology these days no one was prepared to pull the plug on hopeless medical conditions that in thirty years turned out to be changeable. And with biosynth moving as it was…Singh shrugged, maybe in thirty years Melvin's life would change for the better as well, he said.

There were seven more, nine in total, most similarly hopeless. Down in Malina, twenty-six others could probably be classified as “damaged” to varying degrees but not in need of hospitalisation. All of those preferred to sit in the sun anyhow, and many were able to help in daily things even if not in construction, like making food. A few had taken to meditation with the Krishna priests, and one of those had shown remarkable improvement since he'd started doing so. FSA doctors were keeping tabs on them, too.

The last patient was Pongsit, similarly restrained and immobile like the others. But unlike the others, Dr Singh was smiling when they entered his ward.

“I've something to show you with Pongsit,” he said. “I think it would be better to wait until we go downstairs.”

Downstairs was a private lounge, glass windows fronting onto the broader FSA compound, gardens, and glass buildings, Tanusha's towers rising beyond. Here in comfortable chairs sat Cassandra Kresnov and little Kiril, who had his AR glasses on once more.

“Rishi!” he shouted, jumped off the chair and ran to her. Rishi was accustomed enough to Kiril that it didn't surprise her, and she bent for the hug. More surprising was that Cassandra followed and gave her a hug of her own. She looked a lot better than when Rishi had last seen her upon returning from the Droze spaceport, face cut up and one arm dangling. Also interesting was that Cassandra seemed quite pleased to see her. Which was quite different from Kiet's talk of how she'd abandoned them and didn't care to be involved anymore.

“Rishi,” she said, “this is Ragi.” Indicating the other person in the lounge, a slender black man who'd been sitting directly opposite Kiril. “Ragi's a non-combat GI from the League.”

“Really?” Rishi went to shake Ragi's hand, having learned how those manners worked. “Did you defect?”

“Not so much defect as abandon, I think,” said Ragi. Immediately, from the way that he spoke, Rishi could tell he was very high designation. “I was wondering for a while what side I should be on, but then League tried to kill me, so that seems to have solved that problem, yes?”

“League do that a lot,” Rishi agreed.

“Ragi's helping me to use my uplinks,” said Kiril, returning to his chair and his glasses, which he was controlling in turn with a hand slate. Rishi supposed that children needed that extra control function. “They're not supposed to be working yet, but Ragi makes them work.”

“No, they're still not working, Kiril,” Cassandra said sternly, returning to his side. Ragi smiled patiently, also resuming his seat. “It's just a preemptive activation, they won't be working properly for a long time yet.”

“I don't care,” said Kiril defiantly, readjusting manual settings on his slate. “I can get a basic colour pattern now, I can actually
see
it.”

Rishi noted Cassandra looking at Ragi, not looking very pleased. “It's entirely harmless at this point,” he said. “Or rather, it won't make anything worse.”

“Shouldn't mess with this stuff,” Cassandra said shortly. Rishi thought it was an argument they'd had before. “You activate it, you stimulate it, it grows more.”

“It's already activated, at a very low level,” Ragi said calmly. “Your doctors have it crawling with nanos that repress further propagation and keep it at a very low rate. By testing function I can get a better picture of what's working and what isn't.

“But Rishi, I imagine you'd like to see Pongsit?”

Rishi frowned. “See him? I just saw him lying upstairs.”

“Oh, we can do better than that. Take a seat.”

Rishi looked at Cassandra and Kiril, who was preoccupied again with his slate. Cassandra nodded encouragingly toward a vacant seat. She sat and…

…was suddenly somewhere else. A large outdoor balcony beneath a blue
sky. It was a restaurant, high up on a valley side. The valley was green with thick forest, mountain peaks soaring high above. At tables across the balcony, people sat, ate, drank, talked, and laughed. They wore clothes and had bags by their tables that looked like they might be good for walking long distances. A little way down the valley, an old village, made of grey stone, with little bridges across a sparkling stream.

“Hello! Is your name Rishi?” Rishi looked and saw a girl, no more than fourteen, sitting at a table with a jaw-dropping view of the valley below. She had a book in front of her, a real paper thing with white pages that glared in the sun, and was now pushing sunglasses up onto her head. “Please have a seat, Ragi told me you might be coming.”

It was VR; Rishi had done VR before, but the only other time it had been this intense was with Cassandra. Cassandra had required a direct cord link to do that, and she'd been her prisoner at the time; Cassandra had had to forcibly break defensive barriers to access her construct. Ragi did it now with no cord at all, and no warning. She hadn't even realised her barriers had been bypassed.

She took a seat opposite the girl and noticed the man sitting beside her. Brown, Asian features, sitting serenely in the sun, and looking over the valley. “Pongsit?”

Pongsit looked at her. He seemed to recognise her, because he smiled at her. Then he resumed looking at the view. Rishi stared at him, amazed. She'd never seen Pongsit actually
look
at anything. Had never known him capable, until now.

“He loves it here,” said the girl. “I'm Allison, by the way. I'm a friend of Ragi's and Cassandra's. I have a medical condition; in the real world I can't move or speak at all. But here I can sit in the sun and read my book. Ragi's been expanding on the VR for me, it's actually a tourist simulation provided by the government of France, back on Earth. These are the Pyrenees mountains, aren't they beautiful? But Pongsit and I can't access a public VR, so Ragi's cloned it into his own format, no one still knows how he does it, but he's got a special construct worked up that allows me to be here, and now he's done the same for Pongsit, even though we've got completely different conditions.”