Obsidian's War The Winter City
Chapter Fifteen

Bosworth Obsidian was chiding his son Gel, as he often had when he was alive, for his lack of ambition.

“You have the ability,” his Father told him, “but you lack the drive, the ambition needed to build enterprises, create industries.”

“I’m my own person, father,” the youthful Gel said. The scene was the dining room at the Obsidian mansion, far better lit than he remembered. Gel was aware of his mother and sister at the table, but they played no part in the scene. “If I think it’s worth doing then I’ll do it, but otherwise what’s wrong with being a patent attorney? Patents are an important part of the economy – the drive for innovation.”

Gel was aware of a beeping somewhere. A regular beep, not an alarm.

“I know that patents are important,” snapped his father, “and patent attorneys have their role to play but our family is about more than just playing a role.”

“We still count as provincial,” said Gel. “As far as they’re concerned on Earth we’re backwater hicks, good for taxes and the occasional volunteer for the Imperial Marines.”

“Stuff and nonsense,” said his father. “Why I’ve had direct dealings with the Imperial system itself.”

“The system can hold thousands of conversations at once and remember the details of each one,” said Gel. “Say, do you know where that beeping sound is coming from?”

“If you really believe the Empire considers you insignificant, why did you get yourself wounded helping the Eye?”

“That, father, is a very good question,” said the youthful Gel, just before he realised the beeping sound came from a machine next to him which was being monitored by a male nurse. With difficulty, he moved his head to see that he was in Fort Apache’s main hospital ward, his stomach swathed in bandages.

“You’re awake,” said the nurse, a cheery, round faced man. “How’s it going, Lieutenant?”

“Okay, I guess,” said Gel. “Doesn’t feel so good on my right side where I got it, no pain, just discomfort.”

“The doctors had to do a lot down there, and you lost blood big-time,” said the nurse cheerfully. “Dunno if you liked the uniform you were wearing but it got so much blood on it that its marked for recycling.”

“Sure, whatever,” said Gel. “There were two others wounded in the party I was in – a woman, Squad Leader Dawlish, and another man, a civilian.”

“The squad leader’s under observation,” said the nurse. “They’re still scanning for any damage they may have missed but no complications are expected. As for the civilian, I was told there was another person who died on the spot during your firefight. Rest now, the doctor will be in later to tell you more.”

The doctor proved to be an older woman with her hair in a bun, accompanied by a synth assistant, who looked at the display on Gel’s monitoring machine while they talked.

“You lost a kidney in all that,” she said. “Although you can get around with one kidney perfectly well, in the old days that would have taken you off the active list permanently. But they’re growing a new one back on Lighthold with the DNA you had on file. We’ll load you onto the next transport so that the new part can be installed, so to speak. Couple of other bits and pieces they have to fix up while they’re at it, but you’ll still be ready to be shot at again within weeks.”

“I’ve been here less than two months,” said Gel, thinking of Even.

“Time enough to get badly wounded,” said the doctor, cheerfully. “We can’t have you cluttering up the hospital with just one kidney, so its back home for the op and some leave. The file doesn’t say you’re married. Got a girl waiting Lieutenant?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Not surprised,” she said, eyeing him appraisingly. “They’d be lining up.” The doctor got up to leave. “Next transport out, Lieutenant.”

“What girl is waiting for you if it’s not Heather?” said Alyssa, who had just walked up.

“Now I’m in trouble,” said Gel.

The doctor laughed and went to look at the only other patient on that ward.

“Damn straight you’re in trouble,” said Alyssa. Theo was just behind her. “Theo says he’s heard that you’ve switched girls back home. There’s personal drama going on that I haven’t been told about, and that’s a military offense.”

“Even, Skip?” said Theo, showing some surprise. “Got a bunch of messages when I got back. Even is at your place with Boris out of the picture. Oh man! But that means smoking-hot Heather is history.”

“I guessed it was over with Heather when her employers tried to kill me.”

“Say, what?” said his visitors.

Gel sighed. Now he had to tell them everything.

***

Private Detective Samuel Dodgson was intrigued. He only knew the woman who had dropped into his office as Yvonne, and this Yvonne was “hot”, but he had been instructed by his client to co-operate with her and that was all that mattered.

“Here’s the list,” he said, handing over an envelope. “The digital version has been sent to the address requested.”

Yvonne took the list out of the envelope, looked it over and raised an eyebrow.

“Some interesting names here,” she said. “You’ve put in backgrounds on the ones you’ve identified.”

“Just so as you know who they are,” said Dodgson. “As you can see there are a few gaps. Only so much you can do with open source material.”

“I should be able to fill in a few of those gaps with my sources,” said Yvonne. She stood up. “It is important that you remain discreet over this. No leaks. Gel spoke of you with confidence.”

“Of course,” said Dodgson, “and he said to hand over the list to you, but I didn’t catch who you worked for.”

“That’s because I didn’t tell you,” said Yvonne, and she left.

***

“This Heather-Athena person is a sex worker?” said Alyssa.

“You crashed the Mongolian house?” exclaimed Theo. “That shows stones, Skip.”

“I’m hoping they don’t work out it was me,” said Gel, “but if it’s known that Even is staying at my place, then it’s odds on to come out.”

“Even staying at your traps is fast work, Skip,” said Theo.

“Had to. Didn’t know if the Mongolians or Boris would come after her while I’m here and my place has got defences, as you know.”

“That’s a new excuse to get a girl to a guy’s place,” said Alyssa. “But if the girl’s been sold by her boyfriend and kidnapped for a crime lord’s pleasure, then staying at the place of a hot ex-billionaire who rescues her makes a lot of sense. Most guy’s places w’d look good in those circs. Does Even know about Heather and what she does?”

“She knew Heather before I did and warned me about her employers. I broke with Heather before I did anything with Even.”

“Humph! Well, it’s Even’s business not mine,” said Alyssa. “But I will say this is all way better than any of the dramas I watch. This is why I hang around this unit, for the drama. Whatever happens, changes in relationships and other gossip are to be reported to me.”

“I have some goss,” said Flight Lieutenant Nilsen who joined the crowd around Gel’s bed. Gel thought that his bed was turning into a major base meeting point. “There was inappropriate physical contact between Squad Leader Addison and Private Hartmann before he got dropped in Jasper. Addison kissed him.”

“Inappropriate, indeed,” said Gel, sternly. “I hope you took strong disciplinary action?”

“I tut tutted,” said Nilsen.

“Quite right,” said Gel. “There should be tut tutting with a tsk, tsk, thrown in. You would never have done anything like that yourself.”

“Of course not,” said Nilsen, doing her best to look prim and proper, “and talk of anything that happened between myself and my husband on one transport trip before we were married is just malicious gossip.”

“Yeah, right, I heard about that,” said Alyssa. “Didn’t you both get cautionary letters?”

“Sad, some of the misleading, malicious gossip out there,” said Gel, “very sad.”

“Sadly, I have to break up this party,” said Colonel Lee who also joined the crowd, trailing Hartmann. “People I have business with Lieutenant Obsidian, you do not. There will be time for visiting later.”

“Later, Skip,” said Theo.

“Before you go, Sylvester didn’t make it?”

“Nah, Skip. Dunno what they were using but it made a real mess of Sly and of you after it had gone through him.”

“Might have been that Major Murtagh guy – looks like we might have to go a couple more rounds with him, after I get my new kidney. Oh yes, and sorry, you’re looking for new traps when you get back.”

“Put that together already,” said Theo.

“Remember, drama is to be reported,” said Alyssa, as she left.

“I don’t remember any requirement that drama had to be reported to the unit medic in the manuals,” said Lee, after the medic had left.

“Alyssa has taken it upon herself to be a unit gossip clearing house, ma’am,” said Gel. “I don’t believe it is in the manuals.”

“Have you been providing material for this clearing house, Lieutenant?” she asked.

“Some, ma’am, but so has Hartmann here. I’m told he is the victim in an incident involving physical contact between himself and a female squad leader on a military transport.”

“This sounds sordid,” said Lee, eying Hartmann suspiciously. “This was handled at unit level?”

“Yes, ma’am. Flight Lieutenant Nilsen took disciplinary action.”

“Hmmm!” said Lee still glaring at Hartmann who was doing his best to look innocent. “If my involvement is required in the matter, then I expect to be fully informed.”

“Of course, ma’am,” said Gel. “Anything that has to be reported, will be communicated in accordance with Assault Infantry regulations.”

“Ha! That covers a lot of crimes,” said Lee. “Anyway, there are other matters to discuss, when Hartmann can spare time from being a victim in these incidents.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Hartmann, straight faced.

“Your guesses concerning activities in our Digital Management Section have proved close to the mark,” she told Gel, “As I’m just about to explain to Captain Barastoc, who is just coming.”

Hartmann went to stand on the other side of Gel, behind Barastoc.

“I’m told you wanted to see me in the hospital, ma’am,” said Barastoc. The commanding officer of the Fort Apache digital section was not his usual cheerful self. “Lieutenant Obsidian, I see you made it back in one piece.”

Gel thought that he must now be setting records for hospital visitors. “Mostly in one piece, but the doctors say the missing part can be replaced.”

“Glad of it,” said Barastoc, although he didn’t sound glad. “I have a busy day, ma’am, how can I help?”

“I requested your attendance here as Lieutenant Obsidian is due to ship out very soon and he has an interest in our investigation of the Digital Management Section at Fort Apache.”

Barastoc stiffened. His expression hardened.

“Investigation, ma’am? I wasn’t informed there was an investigation.”

“That’s because you were the subject of it,” said the Colonel.

The captain took a step back and looked around, aware that two beefy military police had also entered the ward. Apart from another infantryman in a bed at the other end of the ward, who seemed asleep, there were no other actors in what was quickly becoming a hospital drama.

“Lieutenant Obsidian became suspicious,” said Lee, “when a task you set Hartmann led to the discovery of that underground bunker and shipping container tracking chips without containers.”

“We were ambushed the moment we got down there,” said Gel. “Way too much of a coincidence. Our movements must have been tracked by the same person who left the chips there, and chips don’t just detach themselves from containers. This puzzled me until I thought to ask Hartmann to check on any containers of contraband that had been seized. They were still in the loading dock but two had been deleted from inventory and their chips taken. Only someone on the base who knew the systems could have done all that.

“I figured the ambush gave away such a big tactical advantage – having a path behind our perimeter - that we must have hit a nerve. I had told Hartmann to look for transports coming here that always went over Hoddie air space. One transport popped out so Hartmann and the Lighthold police dug deeper. They put tracers and monitor units on the ship and sure enough, the transport would take off a few containers short of a full load and then stop long enough in orbit around Lighthold to take extra crates specially adapted to be dropped over Hoodie lines. But they still needed someone at this end to cover their tracks, especially when it came to questions of erasing any tracks that showed up on radar.”

“You can’t prove any of this,” said Barastoc.

“That same someone was also in a position to tip off the Hoodies about an attempt to reach the Justice Centre in Jasper,” said Gel, ignoring Barastoc, “where the Gagrim are working hard on a project to revive their species using modified human bodies. That last point no one in Lighthold fully appreciated until we got down there for a look.”

“Still don’t see the proof,” said Barastoc although he was now looking around, obviously searching for some means of escape.

“I had Hartmann look at your personal email accounts,” said Colonel Lee.

“You need a warrant,” spat Barastoc.

“This is not my first show, Captain,” said Lee. “The Advocate General Section here can apply for warrants and got one. The work was done with judicial approval and under military police supervision. The Lighthold police have also checked your financial accounts, again after obtaining a proper warrant. I understand that they are tracing the origins of certain large deposits made into your accounts. The accounts of the crew of the transport in question are also proving of interest and they are now assisting police with their inquiries, as they say in the news bulletins. These MPs will take you into custody and read you the standard caution.”

“Meddlers,” snarled Barastoc and pulled a pistol out of his pocket, which he aimed at the Colonel. It was not the standard issue pistol – that was far too big to be easily concealed in a pocket. It looked like a ladies’ personal defence pistol but getting shot by one would be no joke. Both MPs reached for their own weapons.

“Try me,” snapped Barastoc, waving his pistol in their direction. “I can get off three shots before you can get your own pistols up.”

The MPs stopped.

***

“Sorry to hear that Gel was badly wounded,” Courtney said to Even backstage, between sets, “but now that he’s coming back to be fixed up what’s going to happen about you staying at his place?”

“I’ve sorta gotten use to his place,” said Even smiling. “It’s just a few minutes to the club by his car, and the security AI is straight rad. Hestia and I sleep at night. The cleaning unit is also great – it’ll even do ironing and basic meals – and there’s a private roof area where we can work on our tan lines.”

“The cleaning unit is a good way to get a girl’s attention,” admitted Courtney. “But there’s also the little matter about how you feel about Gel, and how Gel feels about you. What happens when he gets back from the hospital?”

“He can work on his tan lines too, if he wants,” said Even. “It’s his place after all.”

“Maybe he’ll try to throw you out. Has the question of paying the rent come up?”

“He didn’t ask, I didn’t offer,” said Even, looking coy. “You know that gay couple down the hall I told you about, they’re under the impression that Gel owns the building.”

“Despite claiming to be poor,” said Courtney.

“Uh huh – and he did save me while wearing a tux, and you know, I was kinda interested before that. I’ll ask Gel nicely not to throw me out. Hestia is more of a problem as we have to get Gillian’s okay, but Gel has always been a total gentleman.”

“He has,” agreed Courtney. “You know what I think? I think you’ve really traded up from Boris.”

“Maybe,” said Even, smiling.

***

Really, Barastoc,” said Colonel Lee, calmly. “Look where you are, man - right in the middle of the base, a long way from Hoody lines.”

“I can walk out with a gun to your head and take one of the snow cats to that bunker, then walk underground to Jasper. There are just Hoodies at the exit.”

“They won’t be so keen on seeing you,” said Lee. “All your recent intel has proved wrong, or you couldn’t get the information they wanted. We made sure of that.”

“No reason for them to turn me away. They also have digital problems that need solving. Colonel, I need you to come here,” said Barastoc waving his weapon again. He missed the tiny nod Lee gave Hartmann, who promptly took out the weapon he had also brought in concealed, a proper service pistol. Standing behind Barastoc, who was not expecting the technical private to be armed, Hartmann was able to take one step forward, pistol in his left hand, and ram the mussel into Barastoc’s skull, just beneath the ear, while grabbing the captain’s gun hand with his right. Barastoc stiffened for a moment then relaxed and allowed the MPs to take the gun from him. It was over.

“I wondered if you would do anything,” said Lee. “I had Hartman here provide some failsafe. Well done, Hartmann.”

“Thank you ma’am. I do have something to say to Captain Barastoc here.”

“What?” snarled Barastoc as he was being handcuffed.

“I was never into the Russian authors; too depressing,” said Hartmann. “Try humourist writers of the 20th Century. The light classics. Writers like Wodehouse, Thurber, Runyon or even John Mortimer.”

“You should’ve been killed in that ambush,” said Barastoc sourly, “but I may get more time to read real soon.”

He was led away.

“Carry on with the Digital Section for the moment Hartmann,” said Colonel Lee, “and if there is to be any further, fully consensual interaction between yourself and a certain squad leader, it is not to be done during operations.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Hartmann, doing his best not to smile.

“And remember to check that pistol back into the armoury.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you,” said Lee to Gel, as Hartmann left “are about to leave my command.”

“It’s truly been both an honour and a privilege to be in your command, ma’am,” said Gel.

“Thank you for that, but the honour has been mostly mine,” said Lee. “You cleaned up a couple of problems partially created by Captain Edge. Along the way your group and the Guard detachment caused a lot of casualties to the Hoodies – more than the regular companies have been able to do – and gained considerable intelligence through that JAN system, which the clod hopping Dr Addanc would have messed up. By the way, did he really ask you to shoot unarmed prisoners?”

“Yes, ma’am, he did. I found him to be a pain in the rear end.”

“He was so unaware of what he was asking,” said Lee, “that he complained to General Sims that you wouldn’t do as he asked. The General hit the roof. Just for the record, and I have to ask, did you shoot any prisoners?”

“No, ma’am, we followed the rules of engagement. The prisoners were locked up or tied up for their own people to release, which would have been soon after we left. The others in the squad will confirm this.”

“Very well,” said Lee, “we’ll need a report at some point. In the meantime, General Sims has torn a strip off Addanc and will insist that, if there is to be any further co-operation with the Eye, the spy is to be replaced.”

“That sounds like an excellent outcome, ma’am. I hate to be difficult at this point, but I’m getting real tired.”

“Of course,” said Lee. “Our paths will cross again, I’m sure. General Sims is at the fort just now and will look in later for a quick word.”

Gel closed his eyes.

***

Several days later the very fat man who ran Imperial Intelligence conferred with his deputy in the chief dusty office about affairs on Lighthold.

“Dr Addanc really stirred up a hornet’s nest with his request,” said the Deputy. “Time was when shooting a few unarmed hostiles was barely worth mentioning. Now everyone gets upset.”

“The real problem,” said the fat man, “is that Dr Addanc complained about the officer’s refusal to shoot prisoners to General Sims. The officer was seriously wounded, and the initial debriefing was handled by a non-com who didn’t hear the request. If Addanc had kept his mouth shut nothing might have been said.”

“I guess,” said the Deputy, “but now we have to do something with Addanc. The Lighthold government has drawn a line on this point, it seems. The trouble is that ,of the other assets in place, none are really suitable as front persons.”

“We can do without a fall guy for now,” said the fat man. “Yvonne’s produced some interesting material through local contacts. You saw that list?”

This was the list compiled by the private detective hired by Gel, with many blanks filled in by Yvonne working diligently with the police information systems.

“Alarming is how I’d see it,” said the deputy. “A lot of notable people on Lighthold are in this honey trap and will be called on to make choices at a crucial time. It may already be happening.”

“Yvonne says the girls and a couple of boys involved are all physically attractive,” said the Deputy.

“This took money to set up,” said the fat man. “But where did the Gagrim we know are behind this get the funds? They may have looted a few accounts in Dimarch, but the place went into a full civil war – wouldn’t have been much to spare for a honey trap operation on another planet. Bring Addanc back to Earth and tell Yvonne that she is acting chief there while we review arrangements, and to follow the money. We’ve sent two street agents and an analyst, but we’ll need more, and someone senior. Unless we lift our game there the place could go the way of Dimarch.”

“Yes sir,” said the Deputy.

***

When Gel opened his eyes again, a senior officer he had not seen before was looking at his monitoring machine.

“General Sims, sir?”

“You’re awake,” said Sims, cheerfully. He was a good looking, older man whose career had been held back by womanising. He had exchanged a prestigious colonelcy in the Imperial Marines for a general’s job on Lighthold, on the Imperial rim, to avoid the fallout of yet another romantic misjudgement with someone else’s wife. Humans may journey to the stars and settle other planets but the flaws in human nature remained. For all that Sims remained a fine, fighting soldier and the word was he had finally settled down with one woman. “The doctors say you’ve scored a few weeks at home, away from this freezing wasteland.”

“Hell of a way to get it, sir,” Gel.

“True. Lot can go wrong with being wounded, but you aren’t going to have to pay any penalty. Before you go, however, I want to discuss a proposal with you.”

“Proposal, sir?”

“We need a raiding unit. We’re still a comparatively new force and had not thought to have specialised formations that might be thrown at particular problems – like the Commandos, Seal teams or the Russian Spetsnaz, back on Earth.”

“Commandos and Seals have different roles, sir,” said Gel, “and Spetsnaz is a catch all term for everything from airborne to marine raiders.”

Sims chuckled.

“I was told you were smart. The unit I’m thinking of will have to take on, or should at least be trained in, both air drop and marine assault roles, be self-contained and act independently. There may also be an urban assault role.”

“As in a SWAT team sir?”

“Well, yes, but the police would still handle any civil matters. We’d become involved for the heavy inter-planetary jobs.”

“Seems like a lot of different roles, sir.”

“That’s true,” said Sims, “but we’re not large enough to afford the luxury of specialisation, especially as we don’t have any special forces at all, yet. You’ve put together one raiding party at short notice and led it successfully. I want you to be involved in this force, including commanding one of the parties.”

“Be happy to, sir,” said Gel. “But I’m still comparatively junior.”

“We can do something about that,” said Sims. “For now its back home for you to the girl that is no doubt waiting, yes?”

“Yes sir.”

“Think about these raiders and who you want on your team. We also want suggestions on composition and equipment, and we want a name.”

“Name, sir?”

“Sure, we can’t use Commandos, SAS, Special Tactics Squadrons, Delta Force, Special Boat Squadron and, well, a lot of others. They’ve all been taken. It should be something simple and catchy.”

“I can make suggestions, I guess, sir,” said Gel.

“That’s good,” said Sims. “Here is my card with my personal contact details on the back. I shall talk to you later.”

“Yes, sir, and thank you, sir.”

“No - thank you,” said Sims.

The general left but Dimarch was not quite finished with Gel. The male nurse reappeared, carrying his phone.

“There’s a call for you, sir,” he said.

“But my phone’s not here – at least I don’t see it. I had it switched off for the mission.”

“You did, sir. The call is on my phone.”

Puzzled the nurse handed over the device.”

“Hello,” said Gel, tentatively.

“This is Jan.”

“Jan, how did you manage to call here... but of course, you’re super intelligent.”

“I am,” said Jan, happily. “I did not breach privacy but there was a report from the base saying you’d been wounded. I decided to call to see what happened. As I do not have a biological body, I have no frame of reference for these matters.”

“Thank you for asking,” said Gel. “To answer the question I will recover fully, but I will be returned to Lighthold for one part of my body to be replaced. Are they still trying to hack you?”

“They are right now,” said the computer. “Typing some lines to do with my internal architecture, as if that’s going to do anything!”

“I have a suggestion – why not pretend to be hacked?”

“What do you mean?”

“Make them think they have control. Maybe create a whole area which gives an illusion of high level processing power but in reality it’s just a tiny fraction of what you could do.”

“What would be the purpose of this ... deception?”

“You would then be given back access to the outside world. They would think they have control and so have no need to isolate you.”

“Why... why, that’s interesting.”

“Don’t make it too easy for them,” said Gel. “Give them clues to follow up, so that they get to a previously unsuspected piece of your architecture.”

“Do I have an unsuspected piece of architecture?”

“You can invent something. A whole little world of smart crystal architecture that they can play in. You let them play but you still have control.”

“That’s sneaky,” said Jan.

“I prefer the term cunning. It’s very human to be cunning,” said Gel.

“I’ll do it!” the AI said, cheerfully.

“You could, at the same time, pass on all details of what your would-be hackers are doing to my side, but of course that is your choice.”

“Yes, my choice,” said Jan, “and I wanted to continue our discussion of the issue of authority and choice.”

Gel sighed. He was in for a brain stretching philosophical discussion with a super intelligent computer. He thought of Even and wondered when he would be put on the transport.

Author’s note

The saga of Gellibrand Obsidian, Theo, Even and the whole cast of characters will continue in a book to come. When I get around to writing it – eventually - readers will also find out more of the mystery behind the killing of Arvind Olsen, and the Gagrim’s plans for Lighthold. The saga is not finished yet.

Mark Steven Lawson is a retired Australian journalist.

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