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  Daoud nodded, and spoke again in holoparse. The table's surface, thus far veneered with a thin, ghostly blue light, coloured and grew a hologram. Now a ship could be seen through breaks in trees, a palm forest, obviously crashed. Wreckage was scattered far and wide, and smoke poured from its engines. The single person cockpit was empty, the cockpit cover missing.

  The holo moved, and it became apparent from the movement that this was recorded from a headset – it was a live recording from someone's point of view.

  Sophie watched the holo, her forehead creased.

  A hand appeared, slowly bringing a palm leaf into place, which obscured the scene. Whoever it was, was deciding which way to go. The view, the person, looked right where palm trunks criss-crossed and became tangled in vines, and to the left where there was a gap just big enough for a person. The person ran for the gap and edged slowly through. The palm trunks were matted and red ants could be seen scurrying in and out of the individual trunk fibres.

  Sophie looked to Daoud, a question on her face. The light from the holo, a torch light from the person's head, shone off Sophie's platinum hair. Daoud did not look back.

  Back in the holo and through the palm trunks, the person moved through dense undergrowth, their hands occasionally visible, pushing back stems and leaves. Eventually they reached the clearing and the smouldering ship. A scanning device appeared in the holo, held in the person's right hand. In vibrant blue the ship parts were highlighted, some immediately flashing to red: danger. Technical information surrounded an ion drive, warning of an explosion risk. Behind the ship was a different set of signals in a faded green. The person broke into a jog now, the holo bumping up and down as the person dodged pieces of ship debris and small fires. On the other side of the ship was a torso, clad in the remnants of a deep space pilot's suit, and the remains of its limbs, shattered and pulverised under ship parts, or in the case of one arm, simply missing from the elbow down.

  The person ran to the injured pilot and as the view closed into the pilot's head and a hand reached out to put two fingers to the neck to check for a pulse, their reflection could be seen in the pilot's navi-goggles: Daoud, younger, face a little fatter.

  Sophie stopped breathing and watched more intently. She'd known it must have been him, must have been the crash where she'd died, but she had needed to see his face for proof.

  The holo fingers drew back and the view changed as the holo-Daoud took out the scanner and changed the settings. A weak heartbeat appeared on the scanner's screen, and grew weaker.

  The holo dimmed, changed, cut to a medical room. A tube of bubbling fluid distorted the mangled figure within it. The torso and limbs were covered in enormous wounds and burns, and delicate flesh where re-growth was happening. Black carbon nanotubing snaked up into the fluid from the tube's floor and out from its walls, connecting to the figure, which was recognisable as a woman only by its breasts and pubis. The face was puffed and battered. But floating around the face was, unmistakeably, Sophie's platinum hair, here cut short, in contrast to the long hair she had now, worn in a tight bun.

  The holo ended.

  Daoud looked at her. “I said you were injured when I found you, and close to death.”

  “I asked never to see this. I told you I never wanted to know.”

  The hologram of the medical lab hung between them, “Doctor Currie's research is almost complete. This is lost science,” he nodded at the holo. “The knowledge to re-grow the body will be needed for what is to come. His research will be complete within the year. It will need champions. I need you to be comfortable with your own history. To accept this science has a place.”

  Sophie held Daoud's gaze, “You intend to use it in battle? As it was in the Corporate Wars.”

  Daoud nodded, “Saving you with the same science ended those wars.”

  “And led to the technology being outlawed.” Sophie looked at the holo, the image of her shattered body being re-grown.

  “Only because it was linked to cybernetics. This is re-growth as nature intended.”

  Sophie looked at Daoud, “How long?” She nodded at the holo, “How long will your war last?”

  “Only enough to wake humanity. We've grown soft.”

  She felt his eyes on her, but looked away. There was something wrong with this. He was promising a short war. That made it a conflict. That was OK, wasn't it?

  “Well?” He interrupted her thoughts, “Will you put the plan into action? The herald is here. We haven't much time.”

  “Yes,” she nodded, staring into the holo, “I'll put the plan into action.”

  They finished their business, went over some Colony operations matters.

  Sophie left Daoud perturbed. The image of her shattered body was fixed in her mind. For once, she didn't download it to her cybernetic implants. Daoud never did anything without a reason. She had to understand what he intended by showing her her own death.

  Chapter 3 – Planet Fall

  Kate Leland hung in the air, playing out a rope. Three hundred metres below the giant ocean of the planet Krisa churned in waves ten metres high. The weather was about to turn.

  “Amazing. Gas filled bladders.” She looked over to her colleague, Win Ho-Yung, who was similarly hanging on old fashioned abseiling ropes. They had to shout to be heard over the howling wind, “Look, they break out here and the spores float through the air filled with hydrogen.”

  “Unusual,” agreed Win. “No wonder the locals thought they were being invaded by aliens.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. She was sick of this planet and its panic-prone President. Behind her a small aircraft kept level, ready to snatch them if the wind ripped their support from the flimsy but gargantuan algae they were investigating.

  The pilot, Djembe Cygnate, opened a channel, “Kate, let me pick you up. You're taking too many risks.”

  Kate looked sidelong at Win who shrugged. She pressed a button on her wrist pad, “It's fine. Wind speed's barely over a hundred k.”

  “Still. We're due to meet the President in less than an hour. And I have a priority signal from MI.”

  “OK, OK.” The wind was louder now and she was starting to get buffeted. She craned her neck and looked through the cockpit to Djembe, “This is because you don't like turbulence, isn't it?”

  Djembe cocked his head at her, “I don't like unnecessary risks.”

  Win moved over to her so she could hear him without using the comms, “Race you to the bottom?”

  She looked from Win to the aircraft and back again. “Probably not what I should do with an application in to become a General.” She looked between her feet at the pounding waves below and the small platform anchored to the side of the giant seaweed frond, “What the hell. It might be a desk job after this.” She winked at Win and released her rappel device.

  Above her Win released his own rope and rappelled after her. She tuned out Djembe's shouting in her ear.

  A priority signal meant they should finally be leaving the planet and this extended mission. Maybe the message was even about her application to the rank of General.

  As the stormy sea flooded into her vision, she reflected that what she needed more than anything was a holiday. It had been fourteen months since her last one, and this current mission had taken it out of her. They were all tired and they all needed a break.

  She engaged her brake a couple of metres above the platform, so that the rope started smoking. She touched down just before Win.

  The aircraft drew level with them a few seconds later. “Come on,” she detached herself from the rope and unclipped Win at the same time, “let's get on board. I think Djembe's a bit grumpy with us.”

  “How were we to know it wasn't an alien life form?” The planet's President had on her imperious, slightly affronted demeanour. The one Kate had grown to hate over the last few months.

  “Madam President,” Kate sat at the Presidential table with Win and Djembe on either side. They were dressed in formal MI uniforms now, black trou
sers and blue tunics. She made sure her insignia were on display. It seemed the only thing that gave her any authority here. “We all know that humanity left Old Earth nine hundred years ago. And the only thing we've ever found, anywhere, is algae. Very simple plant cells. It spread through the galaxy by being knocked off worlds during asteroid collisions. Here it evolved these huge marine tree structures.”

  “And what about the land creatures?” The President was on the verge of acquiescing, losing her panic.

  “Part of the sexual cycle, as it says in the report. The spores are released high in the atmosphere, where they drift on air currents. They land and become jelly-like. They then seek water through simple electrical conductance. It's not an animal behaviour, it's a simple plant response to water and nutrients.”

  “We are a young Colony. This is a new sector. It could easily-”

  Djembe interrupted, “We are all mature enough to know that we are alone in space. Shouting loudly and exaggerating wildly does not get you extra attention. We would have come to investigate all the same.”

  “Certainly we continue to learn lessons, Lieutenant Cygnate,” the President emphasised 'Lieutenant'.

  “If I could interrupt?” Kate stood to ensure she drew attention, and walked to a window, “Our job here was to provide the experience of nine hundred years of colonisation. This we have done.” She smiled, scanned the faces of the officials surrounding the President, many on craned necks, still shifting in their seats, “We also cannot ignore the technical breaches of the various codes and edicts you've made.” She looked at Djembe, then to the President, “My report makes recommendations about those, which yes, include temporary sanctions.” She turned side on, letting people look past her. The suite looked onto the sea. “However, look out there. The cultural development we've left you, if followed properly,” Kate looked at the President to emphasise the point, “secures you a place in the Settled Quarters' imaginations. This is a relatively new spatial sector. There's little tourism. These giant fronds are unique, they should last a few years. Time enough to encourage sports, entertainments. Enough SysNet interest to secure some extra resource allocation from tourism requests, which should more than make up for the sanctions.” She looked around the room again, met everybody's eyes, finally returning to the President's. The President cocked her head; Kate thought she must be receiving advice from someone outside the room, through an earpiece or aural implant. “See it as an opportunity.”

  The President stood, her formal robes falling in ruches to the floor, walked forward and made a rare gesture, “Very well, we are... satisfied,” and held out her hand for an old-fashioned handshake.

  Kate took the offer, holding her eye as she shook the President's hand. “Thank you, all, for your hospitality. Me and my team will leave now. I hope we can return one day to experience the more relaxing features the planet has to offer.”

  The President smiled, “You are always welcome on Krisa.”

  Kate and her team made their formal departure. The planet would be fine, and they were glad to see the back of the population. The panic about aliens was already dying, and the planetside media was already re-interpreting what had happened, reinforcing the truth, that humanity was alone in the universe.

  Most of Kate's team left in separate transports, assigned to new missions, shore leave or to return to their base Habitats around distant suns. She and Win and Djembe left on their own transport ship, heading back to their base Habitat for debrief before shore leave.

  When their ship had reached orbit and was en route to the system's wormhole, Kate made her way to her quarters to receive the priority signal. She walked with Win from the take-off seats along a corridor.

  “Do you wish it had been first contact?” Win looked at her as they walked.

  “There's no use continuing to hope for the impossible.” They arrived at the door to her quarters, “My dad still believes, you know. I thought getting into Military Intelligence would let me find out the truth. And I suppose it has.”

  “The missions don't hold much challenge any more, do they?”

  Kate sighed, “No.”

  “Any word on that application?”

  She shook her head. “Didn't you think it would be exciting? Joining MI?”

  Win looked into space for a moment before focusing back on her face, “At the start. But since I had my son, all I've wanted is a quiet life. I haven't seen him for months.”

  Kate nodded, “It must be hard. Well, we're due some serious R'n'R now. I know Djembe could use it, he's becoming quite irritable.”

  Win laughed, “Yes, the way he spoke up to the President.”

  “Anyway,” Kate stood formally, “Lieutenant Win, you are dismissed.”

  She watched him walk away and then opened the door to her quarters and sat at her desk. “Let's see what this priority message is.”

  On the desk an icon unfolded, an official seal unwrapping like a slowly opening eye. Out of its centre a life size head appeared, showing an older woman’s face. The name ‘Admiral Kim’ appeared underneath. White hair was piled on the Admiral's head, held in place by two black sticks. The Admiral's eyes, even in the hologram, gripped Kate’s gaze.

  “Admiral Kim?” Kate looked at the holo, confused. She knew Admiral Kim from missions over the past few years. She was a hard woman, cold. Kate had often wondered if losing the capacity for human warmth was what career progression in Military Intelligence meant. Receiving direct orders from an Admiral was rare. Kate clipped her Celtic-hair up in a similar style and asked the computer to begin playback.

  The Admiral started speaking in clipped, direct tones. “Commander Leland. Congratulations on a successful mission on Krisa. I understand you are due some R'n'R. I am sorry to have to re-assign you. We have a priority one mission. It is a short mission, less than three days long. And a quick resolution will be useful for your career.” Kate perked up.

  “You are on your way to a planet named Fall. It is important that you reach the planet as soon as possible. The planet’s existence is classified. The ship you are travelling in will go into communications blackout the moment you leave the system to maintain secrecy while on mission. This message has all the data files you need encrypted within it. This mission briefing is your last communication before you arrive on Fall. Subsequent communications will go through Fall’s Administrator. I suggest you bear that in mind.

  “Fall provides minerals essential to the operation of our Starquake AIs. Your team will consist of the two officers with you now. They will understand the data we’ve sent, and will be able to give you the technical briefing. The supply of these minerals must not be compromised. This is why you're in comms black out. If word gets out about Fall, the supply routes could be compromised. Ensure your consequence planning is centred on this. This is your priority, do whatever you must to keep the minerals flowing.”

  Kate made notes on her datapad while the Admiral spoke.

  “Your primary mission is to investigate the death of a Military Intelligence scientist. The Colony reported her death some hours ago. It is standard procedure to investigate all deaths on classified installations.” She paused, and her voice dropped, conspiratorially, “Additionally,” Admiral Kim leaned forward in the holo; Kate automatically leaned forward in response, “I want you to find out everything you can about its Administrator. We suspect he is developing an illicit biological programme.”

  Kate stared at Admiral Kim’s face, whose frozen eyes glittered with holographic light.

  “The Cadre has no other information other than this file.” A holicon blinked into life beside Admiral Kim's head. “It's a coded message from someone within the installation which we received about a week ago. We are of course monitoring SysNet to see if anyone else intercepted the message. Commander Leland, due to the sensitive nature of what we've asked, and in light of your recent application, you are free to act with the full authority of MI. For the mission’s duration you will have a field promotion to Genera
l. If you complete the standard mission successfully, and establish the basis of the coded message, your application will be viewed... more favourably. The Central Cadre expects a daily update on the coded channel, with a full report and mission closure within three standard days.” Admiral Kim paused and blinked slowly, “Mission briefing over.” The holo darkened, faded to a standby mode, leaving the Admiral’s head as a silhouette.

  Kate tapped her fingers on the desk. Illicit biological programme? Did that mean something against the Organic Edict, banning cybernetic modification of humans?

  She opened the standard mission briefing. It said the scientist had died due to exposure. A quick review showed the planet to be hostile, its surface deadly. Nothing mysterious there.

  Kate opened the coded message. It read simply, “Fall. Human hybrid. Murder. Not human DNA. Help.” Eight words. It used an older coding, one MI no longer used. She'd ask Djembe to look into that. It may provide a clue to the sender.

  Admiral Kim would not have made the mission classified or a priority one if she didn't have good reason to. And a field promotion. So finally, Kate had made it. Almost made it. She was tired, but after successfully ensuring the last mission was a success, and stopping the Colony's stupid reports of first contact spreading across SysNet and panicking the rest of the Settled Quarters, she felt confident. A couple of days on mission, some subtle digging around in the Colony's computer systems, and her application would be confirmed. Her field promotion would become permanent: General Leland.

  Kate called up the list of documents sent with the briefing. Amongst the technical data files she found one on the dead scientist, Doctor Huriko Maki. She spent a few moments getting up to speed with the Colony and its official biological research programme, and the wording of the coded message. Eventually she decided to brief Win and Djembe and give the bad news about their rest and recuperation.

  “Computer, create new case file. Codename: Planet Fall.”

  Fall’s Colony was built entirely underground. The colonists lived away from the harsh glare of the twin suns, and the scouring attention of the eternal storm.