Provenance I - Flee The Bonds (2 page)

‘Right. Well, I got tailed to Mitzys last night. Tanned, brunette bob, cute.’

Steve stifled a yawn. ‘Your memory hasn’t improved has it? I told you, mine had frizzy blonde hair and you wouldn’t call her cute— not with that nose.’

‘Oh yeah. Never mind, probably a CONSEC beanie.’

Steve moved the MPS closer to his mouth. ‘Or Resistance. Have read the intel?’ Steve had. The Resistance had always been a manageable threat, but their confidence was growing and if they ever obtained tech weaponry, they might win.

Jason shook his head, ‘Your paranoia kicking in again. Nah, she was too obvious. If I see her again, I’ll run her through the net.’ He rubbed his eye. ‘So whatta you up to today?’

‘You should know,
Commander
.’

‘Should I,
Captain
?’ Jason eyes lit up. ‘Oh yeah, the Health Ministry honcho. It’s only a chat, there’s no evidence he’s Resistance. Probably got reported cos he didn’t pay his dues to the Barons. Just show him your Cogent and tell him what happens when a million-volt plasma ball lands in his pants.’

Steve rubbed his stubble, ‘Does it have to be this afternoon?’

‘Sorry, buddy. I didn’t know Penny was on the menu.’ Jason huffed. ‘That’s what you get for leading a double life. If it makes you feel any better, I gotta work too.’ Jason glanced up. ‘In about two hours. Gotta a briefing, dunno what about. You heard from Dee and Bo?’

‘No. I saw Provenance earlier.’ Steve smiled, outwardly. ‘It seemed intact.’ Dee and Bo were the junior Advocates of their four-man Quad, and now, thanks to Steve, they were conducting an infiltration exercise on Provenance. With charged weapons.

‘Well, it’s your call Steve, and if they mess up and Provenance falls outta the sky, it’s your fault. Which reminds me, I gotta date with Carine tonight.’

‘That’s going to make Dee happy, send him off to Provenance, and then steal his girlfriend.’

Jason screwed up his face, ‘She ain’t his girlfriend; she’s the fitness guru for the whole Quad. Anyhow, sending them upstairs was your idea, so it’s
still
your fault.’

‘Is that it? Because I’m off for a run.’

Jason grinned. ‘You got your exercise regime all wrong Stevie.’

‘See you Monday, Jas.’

‘See you, buddy. And don’t forget, less running, more exercise.’

Steve reset his MPS and reached for the door handle.

The Springer spaniel pushed through the gap and leapt up. Steve rubbed the brown and white coat. It had been two years since he’d gone with Penny to collect Digby from the kennels, and he had to admit he’d grown fond of the mutt.

‘Get down.’

He stepped around the twirling dog and tapped the keypad attached to the stern bulkhead. The keypad beeped and
Cool Breeze
deactivated, unfolding its stern doors and sliding back its cockpit cover to expose the breaking dawn sky.

Up on the deck, Steve lifted a stowage lid and pressed his thumb down on the Biofield Reader Decoder. A biomechanical chip implanted in his wrist enhanced his biofield, an energy matrix as unique as his DNA. Everyone had a biofield ID, unless they were dead. Which is what they would be if they were found without one.

The BRD shone red, the cockpit cover glided shut and the stern doors closed.
Cool Breeze
joined the other darkened boats slumbering on the misty stillness of the canal. Only
Cool Breeze
wasn’t like other boats, Steve couldn’t stop his nightmares from entering, but he could everything else. His and Penny’s life depended on it.

He set off on his run, mindful that someone would invariably be watching him.

Keeping fit had been a passion since his late teens, probably as a result of being a sickly child. Following the accident, he’d spent much of his comatose childhood in his parent’s clinic recovering from extensive brain damage. The fact that he’d lived and Matt had died only added to his guilt.

His weekend circuit took an hour to complete and by the time he approached the final bridge, the rising sun dazzled off the canal’s reflective calm.

He exited the bridge and slowed at the sight of
Cool Breeze’s
seventeen metres of ultramarine and silver livery. White ribbons curled from the stubby chimneystack and wood smoke flavoured the crisp air. Penny had lit the stove. The serene imagery encapsulated everything he desired, and exposed his vulnerability.

* * * *
 

As Steve undressed, Penny arrived aft, leant over the wagging Digby and kissed him.

‘Did Digby win again?’

He pulled her rose like freshness close. ‘He’s got four legs.’ Penny’s hazel eyes twinkled under her fringe and over soft pink lips. He lowered his mouth.

She pushed back and smiled. ‘Shower first.’

As he closed the bathroom door, the mirror snared him, drawing his attention to the scar on the front of his right shoulder. There were others, but none older, or more painful.

Having showered, Steve made his way forward into the saloon. Recessed spotlights reflected off polished metal, toffee leather settees, and honey teak panelling. He glanced towards the allure of fresh coffee and the galley. Penny reached up into a cupboard, her elfin figure was far better suited to a canal boat than his.

She turned and captured his admiring stare. ‘What?’

He returned her smile. ‘I was wondering what you wanted to do today.’

‘I thought we could go up to the mill and tonight, if you’re good, I’ll cook.’

‘Sorry Pen, I’ve got to work tonight. What about tomorrow?’

Penny returned to the range, ‘I’m working tomorrow, never mind.’

Guilt simmered in Steve’s empty stomach. She deserved the truth, and unfortunately she might hear it one day.

He sat down and Penny joined him with two steaming mugs of coffee.

‘Thanks. I’m sorry about tonight.’

‘So am I. Are you home next Friday, or is the Food Ministry going to make you work another weekend?’

He wrapped his arm around her slender shoulders, ‘I’ll make sure I am.’

Her closeness worked its charm. Steve lowered his head and found her lips.

08:57 SAT 21:10:2119

Red Zone, London, England, Sector 2

Jason stared at the viewscreen dominating the wall ahead, the luminosity of its bold white text lost in the subterranean ops room. ‘HEADQUARTERS SPECIAL OPERATIONS SECTOR 2’. Beneath that, a silver planet Earth gleamed inside four polished steel rings. He and the other Advocates represented the inner ring, Continuity’s and humanity’s last line of defence. Unlike Steve, Jason didn’t have a problem with the ethics. Continuity were selected for their genetic purity and the fact that only the wealthiest could afford to join the PURE program was, in his opinion, just another form of natural selection.

The reception screen faded, replaced by the head and shoulders of two middle-aged men in the starched navy and white uniforms of Continuity Security Command. Jason knew both Admirals well. The frowning Choo was a mandarin who’d commanded his desk all the way up to the top deck, the easy-going Admiral Smithson’s route was apparent from his medal bars. Jason slicked back his hair and came to attention, stretching his graphite leather jacket across his powerhouse frame.

Choo spoke first, ‘Why are you are not in uniform Commander Valenbrotti?’

‘Sorry Admiral, I didn’t realise it was a command briefing.’

He didn’t look great, but Choo wouldn’t understand why. It didn’t rain in space.

Admiral Smithson interjected; ‘Sit down please Jason.’

Jason pulled out a high backed chair, one of six that curved around the semicircular smoked glass table.

Admiral Smithson’s paternal tone continued, ‘We’ve received some worrying intel Jason; the Resistance may have infiltrated CONSEC. I’m going to hand over to Captain Kalckburg for the briefing.’

Jason’s chest clamped.
It couldn’t be.
He exhaled only after the screen split and a woman appeared in the right-hand frame. No, it wasn’t
that
Captain Kalckburg, although she did have the characteristic lumpy jaw.

She was about the same age as him, early thirties. Her straggly chestnut hair surrounded a flushed plump face dotted with grey eyes. The amply filled purple uniform was that of Psychological Operations, its lilac collar and epaulettes made her a Profiler. Three silver bars on the upright collar indicated her rank and the silver number twelve on the epaulettes her Level. Jason shifted in his seat. As a Level 12 Profiler, she probably knew him better than his mom.

‘Good morning Commander, my name is Jannae Kalckburg. We have met before?’ Her accent carried a Germanic tone, her thin smile a worrying familiarity.

Jason’s pulse quickened, ‘No, why?’

‘For no reason. Please authenticate.’

Jason inserted his ID card into the tabletop slot. The adjacent display sprang to life, emitting a single command. ‘AUTHENTICATE’. He pressed his thumb on the Biofield Reader Decoder, waited for the beep, and raised his head. Her smile had disappeared.

‘Thank you Commander. This briefing is classified Level Twelve. Do you understand what that means?’

Jason sighed. ‘Yeah, sure.’

‘Commander!’ Choo’s face had crumpled into a snarl, ‘Continuity is in danger. If you disclose information, we will revoke your Citadel status and tell SIS why. Do you understand
that
?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Jason’s focus shifted to Jannae Kalckburg’s deadpan expression and monotone voice.

‘Two Advocate Commanders have been assassinated. One outside CST Beijing, Sector 3, and the other near Judiciary Headquarters in Washington Sector 1. You understand the significance of the locations?’

Jason did. The Resistance had penetrated the most secure zones on Earth. Continuity Security Tower in Beijing had triple-A security. ‘They’re both in Red Zones.’

A schoolteacher’s smile stretched her lumpy jaw. ‘Correct, and we believe they have help from someone inside CONSEC.’ She glanced down. ‘Why did you not attend seminar 2590?’

Jason’s mind raced. He’d always avoided PSYOPS boring lectures, but he couldn’t admit that in front of Choo. ‘Active duty.’

Her round cheeks dimpled. Jason tensed. Oh great, she’s gonna ask me what date that was.

She didn’t. ‘Very well Commander. If the Admirals permit, I will give you a summary.’

Choo permitted, ‘Continue.’

‘Thank you Admiral. In 2046, forty years after the discovery of Colossus, the insurrection began. Resistance members were those outside Continuity, the Drones. They declared war against the Council and against what they saw as the inhumanity of Continuity’s selection process. Only a lack of technology prevented their success. Today, seventy-three years later, the Resistance’s internal structure is more complicated. Prevention Utilising Responsible Eugenics removed abnormalities from ancestral genes. Advancements in PURE created TYPEs, an elite within Continuity. The majority who were not TYPEs realised that they, and their descendants, would never go to Provenance. Those who felt most embittered took their resentment and their wealth to the Resistance. The Drones’ aspirations have become an ideological irrelevance; the Resistance want to destroy Continuity.’

Jason knew all about TYPEs. Transformation Yielding Performance Enhancements had created super human psychos. The clinics required a six-figure credit line, and only the wealthiest psychos could keep up.

‘Well I suppose the Council would have stepped in long ago, if they weren’t all taking a cut.’ The Admirals’ silent concurrence didn’t surprise Jason. TYPEs held most of the key positions on the Council, and all of them in SIS. Thankfully, psychological profiling had precluded them from Advocate selection.

Jannae’s grey eyes probed. ‘I am not SIS, so your opinion of the Council is not important. What is important is you understand the threat from the Resistance. In 2097, the Council made childbirth illegal to reduce the number of people who would witness the impact, and lessen the guilt of those leaving on Provenance. The law was also — as you know — intended to weaken the Resistance. It has failed.’

In Jason’s periphery, the viewscreen’s chronometer burned into his consciousness, 10:06. He had a lot of prep to do before his date with Carine.

Jannae’s voice dragged him back. ‘Commander?’

‘Failed how?’

‘Jason.’ Admiral Smithson’s tone had sharpened. ‘It has failed to stop the growth of the Resistance. If they infiltrate CONSEC, they could obtain tech weaponry, attack the air hubs and destroy the ships. Continuity would be stuck on Earth.’

‘What are you suggesting, sir?’ Jason had aimed the question at Admiral Smithson, but Choo answered.

‘We do not suggest Commander, we tell you. The Council have ordered the Judiciary to investigate Advocates. An SIS Prosecutor and PSYOPS Evaluator will join each Quad as Undercover Field Operatives. The UFOs will discover who is Resistance.
That
is why you must not discuss this briefing.’

Jason’s concern focused on Admiral Smithson, ‘Sir, why involve Prosecutors? They’re a bunch of sadistic TYPEs.’

There was no love lost between CONSEC and the Special Investigation Service. Advocates killed in defence of Continuity, SIS Prosecutors killed on a whim.

Choo’s eyebrows bristled. ‘Listen to me Commander. SIS say an Advocate has joined the Resistance,
and
they ask for a watch order on Captain Arrowsbury. Why is that?’

Jason winced at the sound of Steve’s name.
What’s he gone and done now?
He didn’t have a problem with Steve’s benevolence towards the Drones; he found it strangely cathartic. The problem was SIS.

Choo didn’t wait for a response. ‘Advocates are the most trusted in CONSEC, if an Advocate helps the Resistance, Prosecutor terminates.
Now
you understand?’

Admiral Smithson’s tone warmed the frigid air. ‘You can’t blame the Council, Jason. The closer Colossus gets, the more dangerous the Resistance become. I don’t like the idea of SIS and PSYOPS in the Quads either, but if there is a rogue Advocate, we need to find them.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Jason knew what the Admiral wasn’t saying. The Council lived on Provenance and their paranoia had given SIS too much power.
That’s why they’ve ordered PSYOPS to shadow the Prosecutors.