Cydonia City, Cydonia Mensae, Mars
Cydonia Corporation’s boardroom had the rare occasion to be in use. Robert Pauly checked the time display that glowed delicately on the round table’s surface. ‘Let’s begin,’ he said. He tapped the table’s glossy surface and the images and data beneath it vanished. ‘All present: Deputy Director Robert Pauly, Cydonia Corporation.’ He paused to nod at the man who sat opposite him at the round table, ‘Martin Bay, Chief Systems Administrator, Cydonia Corporation.’ Martin Bay, the interviewee, glanced briefly back at Robert before turning his attention to the ceiling.
‘So,’ said Robert, ‘first of all, thank you for being here, I know how busy you are.’
‘My department is working around the clock,’ said Bay.
‘Of course.’
‘My people are overworked.’
‘I understand that.’
‘We’ve been asked to retool our entire operation to manufacture weapons,’ Bay said.
He was interrupted as the board room doors opened to reveal, decked in battle armour fitted over Polyskin, a Redbourn Security officer. The officer stood to attention, his helmet clutched under his right arm like a second head. His primary head, closely shaven and oddly slight in proportion to the battle armour out of which it protruded, turned to Robert and nodded.
‘Captain Markus Arundel,’ said Robert. ‘Please sit down, or “at ease” or whatever.’
The captain entered the room and after an uncertain glance, took the seat at which Robert gestured. He sat straight-backed in the chair next to Robert, heightening the contrast between him and the Deputy Director General whose full head of softened hair, impeccable business suit, and reclining, decadent manner radiated more luxury than was practical for Martian life.
‘My apologies for my lateness,’ the captain said gazing purposefully at Bay who in turn strove impressively to ignore him.
‘Not at all,’ said Robert, ‘we’ve only just started. I don’t want to keep you both here for long. But as you know, we are losing shipments from Earth. Somewhere in the supply chain, we’re losing track of them, and as you can understand, it’s costing us some money. It benefits us all to get this resolved as quickly as possible.’
Bay sucked his teeth and shrugged. ‘I’m afraid I don’t deal with individual cases. I’ve told you that already. I suggest you contact the operations team – they’re running an investigation now. The Supply Chain is only one of many systems my staff and I look after.’
‘Quite right,’ replied Robert. ‘You look after these systems, you maintain them. You know how they work. And, in the rare event of stock falling beyond the system’s control, you’d be the best person to explain how it happened. You are, after all, our expert yes?’ Bay shook his head, but Robert continued. ‘You must be able to give us at least an educated guess.’
Captain Arundel glanced to Robert who tapped rhythmically on the table top.
Robert continued. ‘Could you take us through how that might be possible to lose, for example, an entire shipping container? We’ve just invested in an impressive – and expensive – upgrade to our neural network. How is such an oversight even possible?’
‘I’ve already told you,’ said Bay. ‘We have operations teams here and on Earth whose job it is to investigate these things.
Robert continued. ‘But it seems we’re misplacing more and more stock lately – more than an acceptable margin of error – wouldn’t you agree? The same systems that manage imports also look after exports. What happens when we start losing Molecule B samples?’
Bay rolled his eyes. ‘Can we avoid speculation, please?’
‘But if you were to speculate,’ Robert continued, ‘would you suggest that we’re losing shipments, or are our systems simply failing to account for them? I prefer to imagine that our valuable, expensive cargo is sitting in a warehouse somewhere waiting to be discovered.’
Bay’s left eye twitched. He glanced at the monstrous captain and then back to Robert. ‘I will deal with the results of the investigation when they are released. Until then, I can’t really help. I’m very busy and I don’t think this is a good use of my time.’
‘Of course,’ said Robert, ‘your time here is short. I understand you’re only in the city for a few sols.’ Robert smiled and stood. ‘That’s why I set up this little chat – I knew I wouldn’t have another chance to catch you.’
Bay stood and checked his PX device. He smiled for the first time, visibly relieved at the interview’s apparent end. ‘I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful, but there just aren’t enough data yet.’ He shook Robert’s hand.
Captain Arundel stood and offered his own armoured hand. Bay gave the hand a quick shake.
‘Can you offer anything regarding this case?’ Robert asked.
‘Anything I offered now would only be speculation, and I don’t want to do that. It’s best to wait for the facts.’
‘Sure,’ Robert shrugged. ‘I’m grateful for your help, and your time. Thank you.’
Captain Markus Arundel watched Bay as he left, but Robert called to the man before he reached the door.
‘Sorry, I forgot to ask – I was just curious about something. Would it be possible, for someone who knows the network well enough, to deliberately misplace those shipments?’
Bay stopped and looked Robert from toe to skull. ‘What are you asking?’ said Bay.
‘Is it possible that someone in your staff, or even you, could deliberately misplace stock? It’s a simple question. English is one of my less impressive languages, but I’m sure I phrased the question correctly. Captain Arundel here is half English. Was my question clear, Markus?’
‘It had a certain clarity,’ replied Captain Arundel.
Bay glared at the two men. ‘Is this an investigation or an interrogation?’
‘I’m gathering facts,’ said Robert.
‘I feel like I’m being accused,’ said Bay. ‘Are you accusing me?’
‘No,’ answered Robert, ‘I am dismissing you.’
Bay narrowed his eyes took a step back into the board room. ‘You can’t do that.’
‘This interview is over,’ said Robert, ‘if you do have any information regarding this enquiry, my door is open.’
‘You can’t dismiss me, Pauly,’ Bay said.
‘I’ve done it already,’ said Robert, ‘our shareholders have granted the board crisis powers.’
Bay reddened suddenly, his bottom lip quivered as he spoke. ‘I have worked for this company for fifteen years.’
‘And I think you will find that in those fifteen years,’ said Robert without embarrassment, ‘the quality of space travel has markedly improved. Your return policy is fully paid up and I think you will enjoy the homeward voyage.’
Bay turned his eyes to Markus and then down to the floor before glancing back to Robert. ‘We’ll see about this,’ he said, his voice lacking conviction.
‘Why?’ Markus asked after Bay had left.
‘‘I truly expected more resistance,’ Robert commented as he settled into the seat next to Markus. ‘Do you mean “why dismiss him”?’
‘No, I mean why include me in this meeting?’ Markus replied. ‘You had me believing that this was an urgent security matter. I have duties.’
‘Theft is a security matter,’ Robert said. ‘But I admit that I didn’t need you. I wanted you here for your advice. You’ve interrogated people before.’
‘That wasn’t an interrogation,’ said Markus.
‘But did you think he was hiding something?’
‘Do you truly believe he’s a thief?’ asked Markus.
‘Oh no,’ Robert said. ‘Stealing is beneath him. But he’s resentful and he’s hiding something, and I have thought so for a while. I’ve long wanted to be rid of him.’
‘We’re preparing for war,’ said Markus, ‘and this is what you do with your time?’
‘My friend,’ Robert said. ‘You’re the best combat fighter in the world – on both worlds. Don’t shake your head, don’t be modest. You lead Redbourn Security’s most elite security unit. Would you be comfortable going into a battle or a skirmish carrying dead weight? The strongest side wins the war, not simply the strongest army. I can’t have any dead weight. So, what do you think, Markus?’
Markus shrugged. ‘Either he’s incompetent or he’s shirking. Either way, I wasn’t impressed. I’d demote him to guardsman were he one of my officers, and if he were already a guardsman, I’d have him on gate duty.’
‘Great minds think alike, my friend,’ Robert said. ‘But I can’t demote him and expect him to be productive. I envy you, working in Redbourn’s military structure. The Director General envies Redbourn too.’
‘Grace Mitchell envies us?’
‘Redbourn has a clear hierarchy,’ Robert explained. ‘Lieutenants answer to captains, captains to majors and so on. It is only now when there is a clear threat to our profits that the shareholders have granted us crisis powers. Cydonia’s structure is otherwise so flat that it’s impossible to understand who answers to whom. Dismissing anyone is unheard of. The DG herself barely has more authority than the directors on the board. She is the only person I answer to, yet I can count on one hand the number of people accountable to me.’
‘Our business is force, and force requires structure,’ said Markus. ‘When under fire, it is useful to know who is in charge.’
‘But that’s what I’m trying to say,’ said Robert. ‘We’re all going to war – all of us. Someone must be in charge.’
‘Come now,’ Markus said, ‘you’ve always been democratic.’
‘It is a fact that democracies don’t fight wars,’ said Robert, ‘but I say also that democracies seldom win them.’
‘That doesn’t sound like you,’ said Markus. ‘I rather think you’ve spent too much time with Grace Mitchell.’
‘Yes,’ Robert agreed, ‘and not enough time with her niece. Speaking of which –I haven’t been able to reach Naktong today.’
‘You’re lucky,’ said Markus under his breath.
‘I heard that,’ Robert grinned. ‘Play nice, my friend – I’m quite sure I can dismiss you too.’
Naktong Vallis, Arabia Quadrangle
Sarah Pauly, as her family persistently reminded her, was lucky. She had enjoyed a royal standard of living and had endured an education reserved for the super-rich. Her past was free of hardship and her future full of promise. She was the daughter of a European Space Agency director and her grandfather had been a US President. Her aunt was the current Director General of Cydonia Corporation and a member of the first human crew on Mars. But adversity breeds strength while mediocrity springs from privilege’s lap. She had grown up aware the expectations on her, and instead developed into a serial underachiever. She was lucky to be alive but felt the opposite as the sun dropped behind the horizon, taking the temperature with it. The cold bit deep, it gnawed through her Polyskin and devoured its already meagre battery charge. Still, she was fortunate. She had handled the Sparrowhawk well enough, and the landing could have been worse. She and her three passengers were still alive.
She had selected a flat crater valley for the landing site and avoided crashing into the crater wall. One of the passengers worked now to set up the survival tent while the other two struggled to secure the Sparrowhawk. Sarah wanted to help but wasn’t needed. James Ogunba had told her to keep moving to keep warm. Her Polyskin battery was by far the most depleted. She paced the crater floor, keeping eyes on the horizon as she tracked boot prints in the fine sand.
‘If they find us first,’ said David, approaching her after he pitched the survival tent. ‘It’s bad news for you.’
‘Bad news for all of us,’ said Sarah.
‘Yes,’ said David, ‘but especially for the Grace Mitchell’s niece, right? Think of the leverage that would give them over the Director General.’
‘So?’
‘This isn’t a survival adventure,’ said David, ‘spending the night in the open on this planet is a guaranteed near-death experience. Someone could still find us if we ping for help now.’
‘But we don’t know who would find us,’ Sarah said.
‘I think the rest of us are willing to gamble,’ said David. ‘Spending the night is more of a gamble with much higher stakes. We risk being caught, or we risk dying.’
Sarah ceased pacing and looked at him, not seeing a face, only her reflection in his visor. Behind him, James and the other passenger approached, evidently finished with their work. ‘There’s no need to risk spending the night here,’ David continued loud enough for them all to hear. ‘We can still do something before the dice is cast.’
‘Turn the beacon on,’ said Sarah. ‘Go ahead. You think I’m the one with the most to lose, right? You don’t want to be here? You should have thought of that before you followed me. I might be the most valuable one here, but that means I’m risking the least. Do you think anyone is going to care if iMicor catches you? You think my aunt is going to ransom you? You think your return policy is going to cover it? You’ll rot in a holding cell for months or even years. Forget about your contracts – forget about your careers. Hell, what’s the point of even taking you prisoner? You’re nothing. They may as well bury you out here and save themselves the cost of feeding you. You followed me and now you’re stuck with me, and you’d better hope I make it out of this, because without me you are finished. Now is that tent ready?’ She pushed passed David who didn’t move. ‘Good, I need to get out of this Polyskin.’
The others turned to each other and shrugged. The sun had set and the dice cast.
Comments (0)
See all