The Orion Deception (18 page)

Horatio Arnold was having a bad day. He was being excoriated in the media, something he was very much unused to. He had been successful in eliminating his opposition in Parliament and replacing them with those of like minds, but suspicions from within his government were rising. Rumors of his corruption were spreading like wildfire and even the media had fallen out of his influence, something that he had enjoyed for a long time. He was now forced to face the possibility of taking over the media industry of the Commonwealth to attain his goals.

If things continued to degenerate he might be forced to start his war before he was ready. Although war would give him the opportunity to declare martial law, something that would take Arnold most of the way to his goal of creating an empire.

"Mike!" he shouted, sitting down behind his desk and clicking off the newsfeeds.

"Yes, Mr. Prime Minister?" came the reply of his Chief of Staff, Mike LeFevre, over the comm system.

"What's next on the schedule?"

"You have a meeting with representatives of the Terran States this afternoon."

"What's the call on that?"

"Polling shows your message is resonating powerfully with the people of the Terran States, though their own governments are skeptical of you."

"I don't care about the local governments, they are pawns."

"Pawns that you cannot yet sacrifice, sir."

"I know," he said wearily. "I will put on my game face and tell them how the money from Drift States will fix all their problems."

"What will you tell the Drift State representatives sir?"

"The opposite, of course."

"Mr. Prime Minister, they will know you are lying to them."

"I don't care. Let them accuse me of it."

The Chief of Staff did not respond. Arnold knew the man was queasy about his plans but Mike was loyal. And Mike gave him something he did not have, the perspective of doubt. Arnold never doubted his own plans and tended to suffer from overconfidence. But the Chief of Staff filled that bill nicely, and never failed to provide the Prime Minister with the counter-perspective he needed to shore up details. If the remaining Drift States openly accused the PM of deceit, he would use that to stir the Terran States against them.

Arnold looked out his window at Palace Drift, at the scurrying rats moving about the city to somebody else's bidding. More than likely those scurrying wretches were running at the whim of their masters in Parliament. It made him angry, he wanted to be the only one whose bidding mattered and he could not wait until the day when he dissolved Parliament.

Soon,
he promised himself.
Soon.

"Sir," piped in Mike's voice over the comm. "Fleet Marshal Vladimir is here."

"Send him in." Anton Vladimir was a man in whom Arnold placed great trust. They were old acquaintances, Arnold having been under the older Russian's command during his own Fleet service many decades ago. But Arnold cashed in his education benefits and left the service, choosing a life of politics over service. Vladimir was a ruthless tactician and excelled in warfare. He was a natural officer and a born leader whose place was in the midst of battle. He rose through much of the ranks by skill, and when he hit a roadblock to his advancement, he destroyed it. Vladimir and Arnold were two of a kind.

The door opened and the scar-faced old Russian marched in, stopped, and snapped smartly to attention with his cover tucked under his left arm. The chest of his dark uniform was adorned with medals, ribbons and badges. Gold epaulettes decorated the top of his shoulders and a fourragère adorned his left shoulder.

"Vlad!" he said as he rose to face his old friend. Ever the disciplinarian, Vladimir remained stoic and quiet until told otherwise. "It is good to see you, my friend. Please, sit down."

Now that he had been permitted to relax, Vladimir smiled broadly and shook his old friend's hand as he sat down in the plush anti-grav chair.

"It is good to see you, Horatio. What can I do for you?"

"Are we ready to outfit the Fleet with our new weapons?"

"All is moving according to plan," replied the Russian. "When the time comes, the Fleet will be ready for war."

"You don't worry about conscientious objectors? What about those who may not wish to take action against their countrymen?"

"Mr. Prime Minister, I have been weeding out the officers who pose a threat to our plans for the past three years."

"Ah, Anton. Such a practical general! That is why I chose you. We should expect those officers to defect to the other side, I suppose."

"They will not be fighting for anyone, sir," answered Vladimir with a dark, scar-faced, smile. "The officer corps that remains will be loyal. Should any declare opposition to us, they will be executed. I have also taken great pains to root out dissidents within the ranks, but that is more problematic due to their larger numbers."

"How have you handled it?" asked Arnold, knowing well that Vladimir had indeed handled it.

"I have intelligence officers posing as enlisted men throughout the Fleet. Enlisted troops gossip and spread rumors. When my intelligence officers learn of an enlisted person speaking too boldly about anyone of importance in the fleet or the government, they find themselves suddenly flushed out of an airlock."

"Clever, Vladimir," commented the PM, pouring a glass of wine for his visitor from a very expensive Lunar crystal carafe. "A campaign of fear! The young enlisted man sees what happens when another talks of treason and does not want to end up on the wrong side of an air lock. I like it. How does my fleet match up against this upstart Palmetto Defense Force?"

"They are too few and too far between to be of much consequence, sir. We can destroy the renegade drifts now, with our current arms, if you will but say the word."

"Now is not the right time, Vlad. It would be viewed as an unprovoked war. We would only make matters worse."

"Hmm." Vladimir was not convinced, but he would follow orders. "Nonetheless, you're fleet is prepared."

"Sir," the Chief of Staff interrupted, this time he appeared in the room as a holographic image. "Orion is in the Palace. He will be here shortly."

Arnold nodded and the image of his Chief of Staff vanished.

"How do they defeat our sensors?" asked Fleet Marshal Vladimir. "They are hiding something very powerful from us, I think."

"I think they are too. I have not been able to find their starship. I know its hiding somewhere in the Belt, but I don't know where."

"That could prove to be a liability for us, sir. Why don't we cut ties with them now and send them on their way? They cannot be trusted. We can achieve our goals under our own power."

Prime Minister Arnold knew that the Fleet Marshal spoke truly. He did have the power and the technology to go to war with the Drift States. He could even conquer the other non-Commonwealth states on Earth and throughout the System. But could he do it with his fleet intact? Would he be able to quash uprisings and insurgencies and maintain his grip on those territories? He doubted it. That's where plasma warfare came in. It was such a brutal and sophisticated concept that it would strike fear in the hearts of his adversaries. He would be able to lay waste to entire terrestrial cities and decimate drifts in space.

He and Vladimir sat silently, awaiting their visitor. In a moment, the door to his office opened and the smartly dressed Orion officer entered. To avoid suspicion he dressed like an Earther, wearing modern business attire. The unusual skin complexion and slightly different eyes and smaller ears did not necessarily betray his origin. Genetic altering was fast becoming a popular and trendy science in the Solar System. It was now quite easy to make radical changes to one's own appearance through the use of genetic drugs, though the ability to make these changes permanent had ever eluded scientists. The science was still primitive, however, because the more advanced research needed to affect a person's DNA, and thus completely change a person's identity, had been outlawed.

With a nod from the PM, D'mal sat down on a leather covered sofa before the desk of the leader. Neither the PM nor the Fleet Marshal stood to greet the newcomer.

"Where is my renegade, Heck Thomas?" he asked, forgoing formalities. The lack of decorum was not lost on D'mal.

"The ex-marshal was last seen on a spaceliner bound for ROS before it was hijacked."

"He was on
that
ship?"

"Indeed, Mr. Prime Minister." D'mal seemed chagrined, a trait that the PM thought the haughty man would never exhibit.

Vladimir refused to look at D'mal and stared resolutely out the great window, a derisive smile playing about his lips. It was no secret to Arnold that Vladimir detested their alliance and would like nothing better than to shoot the Orion officer dead.

Another time perhaps,
he thought with a sigh. He was looking forward to firing the plasma cannons that were being tested by his Special Operations Command. The Orion officer was good for that, at least.

"Yet somehow he managed to escape from it before the hijackers found him," said Vladimir with condescension.

D'mal did not respond to the Fleet Marshal. Instead he directed his response to the Prime Minister. "Heck Thomas is not alone. He is working closely with two other people. One of them is a foreign national and it seems they are getting help from a non-member government.”

"How is this possible?" demanded the Prime Minister. "Didn't you have an assassin tracking him?"

"That assassin is dead. Your target managed to inhibit the transmitters we placed in the assassin and hide him long enough to disappear. We found the body of the assassin tied to an anchor on the bottom of a river. Although the giant reptiles that live there devoured much of the body, we were able to recover his last conversations and sights from the implanted chip." Arnold raised an eyebrow, that sounded very appealing.

"The assassin had not been privy to much of the target's plans, they were disciplined in front of him. But he did hear a reference to getting offworld before he died. It was how we learned of his accomplices, specifically the Israeli operative. That is also when we learned of the hijacked spaceliner and their disappearance from it."

"Pathetic," growled Vladimir. "Why do we allow such incompetence?"

"So Israel is working against me," mused Arnold. "They get priority in our upcoming initiative, Vlad."

"Mr. Prime Minister," began D'mal, his voice dangerous and cold. "My people have allied with your government for mutual benefit. We have each agreed to act in the interests of the other. While yours may be the most advantageous position to our cause, it is not the only one."

Arnold's eye twitched in anger. He knew the alien was right, of course. The Orion people could indeed ally themselves with another entity or government in the Solar System and achieve their objective. And in doing so, would likely see the destruction of Horatio Arnold and his dreams of power.

"You are obsessing over a single man who cannot possibly affect the outcome of our goals."

"Fine," acknowledged the Prime Minister. "But your superiors have ordered you to act in 
my 
interests as you have already said. In this case, the death of Marshal Heck Thomas is in 
both 
our interests. Alive, he is a menace that can expose the entire alliance. What if the Marshal managed to get your assassin to talk? What then?"

"Unlikely," said D'mal without emotion. "Earther agents have self-destruct programming that would prevent them from compromising our secrets. The assassin we sent after Heck Thomas was a Soldier of the Crescent Moon."

Vladimir slowly swiveled his head toward Arnold and leveled his gaze at the PM. "Sir, I thought we were terminating our alliance with those terrorists!"

"We are, Vlad," said the PM with a smile. "One mission at a time!"

"In this case," continued D'mal. "The limited intelligence of henchmen employed by the Crescent Moon has proven an asset in their training. They are easily programmed and are not afraid of death."

"I agree with the alien on that point, sir. They are fools who welcome death. I, however, would prefer to give them death without giving them any training that may be turned against us!"

"Noted, Vlad," said the PM. "Please continue, Orion."

"This particular agent accepted his programming and the implanted device with pride. He was an accomplished assassin and made all five of the hits you requested. He was accurate and knew his job. He was terminated before he could divulge your secrets."

"How can you be sure? Perhaps we should send in one of my own assassins," offered the Fleet Marshal.

"I believe you already have, Fleet Marshal," said the alien with condescension. "Didn't your assassin fail to kill the target while he was on the spaceliner?"

Vladimir neither admitted nor denied the accusation and looked back out the window, remaining silent.

"So you have learned all this from your dead agent? What are you going to do now?" asked the PM.

"We are going to let him come to us," said D'mal.

"It is not wise to underestimate Heck Thomas, Orion," grumbled the PM. "Just make sure he dies this time."