All Fall Down Read online

  There were some surface features associated with the Colony. Scientific instruments dotted the desert floor in geometric patterns, surrounding the Colony and its two outlying settlements. Air filtration units kept them company. Some buildings marked the outlying colonies, long since abandoned to the harsh reality of the surface. There were solar collector farms, generating both electricity and heat. There were also twelve solar channellers, large convex domes around the circumference of the Colony, which directed sunlight below ground for lighting and farming. And directly on top of the main Colony was a docking pad for larger spacecraft, and guiding lights to the doors that covered the shaft to the hangar bay. Checking the instruments, science experiments and maintaining the power infrastructure, air filtration and landing pad were the only permitted reasons for regular surface travel.

  Twenty five kilometres north-west lay the remains of Fall’s original Colony, now buried under sand, a mausoleum to its dead.

  Below ground, the hangar bay’s volume occupied the upper area of the Colony structure. Beneath the hangar floor was a rock layer, a natural cap over the excavated cavity in which the Colony had been constructed.

  From the viewing deck just under this natural domed roof, Daoud looked down, his hands resting lightly on the safety rail. The Colony was built around a central void, a dim barrel of air kept in constant motion by huge fans in the floor. Similar fans in the roof helped pull the air upwards, dragging with it the stale smells of Colony life, which passed out through tunnels to the sub-surface farming pods, which sat under the solar channellers.

  Daoud inhaled deeply. He tasted the Colony, a thick, humid diary of the three thousand or so lives on the planet. There was a tang to the air today; the taste of shock. Daoud had released news of Huriko Maki’s death. In such a small place news travelled fast. It was better to control its spread, he thought. Below him, in the dim air shaft, yellow-grey blobs winked into life: colonists causing automatic lights to turn on, as they followed the paths and gantries around the curved walls. The movement appeared to be around the work levels: the end of a day, meeting in the bars and restaurants. The higher levels, near the farm connector tunnels, were generally quieter. The stale air drawn through the tunnels put off most people. But Daoud had grown used to it, and had learned to read the taste, the smell of the air.

  As he gazed down into the void, he allowed his eyes to defocus and let his mind run free over the details of Huriko's death. It was supposed to be death due to exposure, a death in a storm. A regrettable accident. But the herald had somehow become involved. The alien presence; the entity. All deaths on classified Colonies had to be reported to Military Intelligence. Sophie had already reported it to the nearest Habitat before he found out what had happened.

  It wasn't supposed to be like this.

  Things were going to be trickier. The plan might be de-railed. The MI operatives would be on their way by now, and would scrutinise all security recordings. He thought of Sophie, and the plans they'd made over the years since he'd saved her. He had a grand vision for humanity and its place in the galaxy.

  Irritated by the turn of events, Daoud keyed his wrist pad. “Sophie, see me in my office.” He left the area and headed through curved corridors to meet her.

  A bronze sculpture was the only decoration in Daoud’s office. It was ancient, possibly a thousand years old: a genderless figure, frozen in a perpetual forward run, its body flowing behind it, its form pushing ahead, giving the illusion of movement, speed and unfailing determination. Daoud thought it represented everything humanity had lost. It inspired him. He stood by his central analysis table.

  Sophie arrived and took her place opposite, where recently he'd shown her death and re-birth.

  “Computer, please play the recording again, full holography.”

  Huriko’s death played out in miniature. It was a re-constructed hologram, created from the Colony’s surface and satellite surveillance. The heavy filtering needed to remove the sandstorm left a poor quality, grainy scene; Huriko ghosted frequently, her exact location and shape jumping around in the error margins of the image filters.

  “She was supposed to die of exposure,” Daoud looked at Sophie.

  “I'm sorry, I didn't know the herald had arrived at that point. It was you who informed me.”

  He stared at her. “Get rid of it.”

  “Sir, we can't delete anything once it's in the AI's matrix.”

  “Then bury it. Generate something that will stop the AI registering it. Anxiety algorithms or something. AIs don't like emotions. Verigua won't scan its deep matrix if it senses an emotional outbreak in its intelligence.”

  “Very well, Sir. There is a risk, though. AIs can become twitchy if they develop emotions.”

  The sculpture on his desk reflected the holo light in small speckles on the ceiling. The sculpture’s shadow moved, grew and shrank again as the holo played out, lurching in its perpetual movement forward.

  Daoud turned to Sophie, sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose “Once the eclipse has passed in a couple of days, it will no longer matter. We only need that time.”

  “Very well. Anything else?”

  “Do we know who MI are sending to investigate?”

  Sophie touched the analysis table. The holos faded, replaced by three heads, one placed slightly above the other two. Arranged underneath were icons indicating biographies and incoming ship specifications. “A small team, just three people on a transport craft, no supporting escort ships. The cover story of death due to exposure has worked well. But I think it’s wise that you review the biographies. The team leader will interest you, certainly.”

  “And preparations?”

  “Directors and the MI Research Facility are fully briefed. They’re dusting off their procedures. I’ve reviewed security, which is all to standard.” Sophie looked up from under her brow.

  “Carry on.”

  Sophie flicked her eyes back down to her holo display. “My teams are still at the mines. Security is tight anyway. I’ll send you their reports when they come in, I’m not expecting anything out of the ordinary. I don't foresee any security lapses or scope for criticism.”

  “Are your teams asking for eye witness accounts?”

  “No one saw anything. We should be able to contain it. Shall I carry on?” Daoud nodded at her, “I’ve assigned quarters. Bio-safety protocols are drilled for when they arrive. The twin solar eclipse will affect communications, but as we’re on lockdown anyway, it won’t affect comms going in or out of the system. Your private link out of system might get a little jumpy for a while.”

  Daoud shrugged. “You’ve done a very thorough job. Thank you Sophie. This holo,” he nodded at the frozen holo of Huriko meeting the alien presence, “gets buried. Make sure MI don't find it.” He looked around the room, and his voice became wistful, “Remember the vendetta killing here? Shortly after establishment.”

  Sophie nodded. “Yes, what..? Ah, I see.”

  “In case there are any traces of our friend moving through the atmosphere, I want you to put out a rumour that Huriko may have been the victim of a vendetta killing.”

  Sophie nodded, “It could work. Or at least divert the investigation long enough.”

  “That's all we need. Think of a way to neutralise the other two. Doctor Cassel first, he's most prone to crack under interrogation. We need to utilise Masjid a little longer.”

  “Sir.”

  “And when are our guests expected?”

  “ETA is early tomorrow, around seven hundred hours.”

  “Very good. Ah, one final thing. The monitoring satellites?”

  “Primed and prep'd to your specifications.”

  “Good. They are key to our success.”

  “Will that be all?”

  “Yes. You've done a good job Sophie. You've been very useful.”

  Once Sophie had left the room Daoud activated the work station in his desk. A series of holographic displays and some flat graphical screens glowed
into life.

  First he pulled up a live holo of Sophie walking along the curved corridor. Small screens popped out of her head, showing monitoring reports, graphs. He watched her for a few minutes to gauge her thoughts. Hacking her cybernetic implants when he'd saved her life had proven very useful over the centuries.

  Particular charts were very active. “Sophie, you are thinking too much. We can't have that.” He pulled some icons from the surrounding holo, merged them with the monitoring screens, smoothed certain peaks, changed the colour and depth of other holicons. “We'll have you stay on mission, I think.”

  Satisfied, he dismissed the holo, and spoke to his private computer.

  “OK computer, let’s see who’s coming to visit, shall we? Display the profiles for the three MI officers. Put the team leader in the centre display. Start with a summary of the team leader, then officers, then the team’s projects and work outputs for the last five years. Verbal report please.”

  Daoud sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. The computer’s voice filled the room.

  “Starting team profiles. Team leader: Kate Leland. Age: thirty six. Degree in biology, doctorate in xenobiology. Thesis title ‘Sexual maturation in algal trees’. Contributions to xenobiology magazines. Post doctoral work…”

  “Stop. Please give me a sample of the magazine articles.”

  “Sample article titles: ‘Panspermia and algal diversity’, ‘Humans as aliens in an algal galaxy’, ‘Are we alone? The case for a renewed search for alien life’. Shall I continue with the profile?”

  “A believer?”

  Daoud asked the computer to carry on with the profile.

  “Post-doctoral work in algal genetic manipulation ended within three months, when the application to MI was made. Joined MI at age twenty six. Re-trained as an ecosystems and resource extraction analyst, then completed a separate doctorate in quantum mechanics. Age thirty three took over a cross-functional disaster management team, with two officers. Quickly moved the team into working on most of MI’s established directorate policy areas. Significant contributions made to colonisation strategy, Starquake development, and cultural issues where they intersect with MI’s involvement. All assessments point future career trajectory to Cadre level.

  “Classified notes on record. One negative mark on record unknown to subject made by Central Cadre, for resolving situation without authority on Rafi Beta. Invoked Colony Defence Code. First known invocation in three hundred and seventy years.”

  The computer continued its monologue. Daoud sat back and looked between the small holo of Sophie and the larger one of this Commander, Kate Leland. “I wonder. I wonder. You certainly are interesting. But are you useful?”

  After his research into the MI team, Daoud left his briefing room for the short journey to the Research Facility. The biographies had continued to be interesting. Of the other two officers, one was a pure Consequence Planner, a person who worked with AIs to predict the probable realities and outcomes of decisions. Once all consequences had been mapped, MI identified those that fit best with its strategic plans, and then identified the factors that made those consequences most likely. Sometimes the consequence planning was there to limit MI’s exposure and any damage to its planning. After eight centuries in its current form it had enough institutional knowledge to know when to protect itself.

  The other officer was an Environmental Analyst. That made sense. They would want to know if the death would affect mineral extraction. And the Consequence Planner would identify how hold-ups to the medical research here or the mineral extraction might affect society in general.

  Daoud was satisfied with the small size of the team. The speed of deployment suggested the decision had been made by Fall’s nearest Habitat. No doubt an ambitious MI Officer was keen to capitalise on investigating a death in a classified Colony. Send in a small team, get a quick turn around, keep it all under wraps. A promotion was surely in line for whoever had sent in the team so quickly.

  Daoud had once been in the upper echelons of Military Intelligence. He'd sat on the Central Cadre itself. Most MI employees weren’t even aware of its existence. It sat behind the civilian government, a shadowy, secret organisation, directing society's affairs. Daoud muttered to himself as he walked the busy corridor. The Cadre had lost its purpose, had failed to give itself any significant goal since the Flight of Qin had come to an end, and the Qin integration had been completed. If it found out about the herald, the footage he'd ordered Sophie to hide, he'd face a formidable enemy. Or was it too much of a sleeping dragon? Mired in bureaucracy, its edge long dulled by lack of challenge?

  Daoud hated it. Hated the Cadre for throwing him out and giving him Fall as a virtual prison. Hated humanity for finding peace and order. The species slumbered in a galaxy full of threat. Nine hundred years alone in space didn't mean there wasn't something out there, waiting to strike. Somebody had to think of the greater good, if the Cadre was going to become bloated in the peace of human society. It was corpulent, needed exercise. Needed to wake up to its place in the galaxy. Now the herald was here, and soon his war would start. Humanity would be alive once more.

  “Consequences, consequences.”

  The lift arrived.

  Sophie Argus walked along a corridor between checks on her crews.

  She was trying to work out why Daoud had shown her the footage. Her own mangled body. Sophie flexed a hand. Even after all the healing, after so many, many years, she could still feel the cyberware inside. No one ever checked for it now; it had become extinct from society. But it burned inside her, a skeleton of guilt.

  Undoubtedly Daoud was playing her; it was what he did to people. Played them, pawns in his long game. She knew his goal, agreed with it, though it had taken many years to come to terms with it.

  Thought of war disturbed her. She had fought so hard, sacrificed family, lovers, friends, her own body and brain architecture, to end the Corporate Wars. Officially she had died in them, had been dead these past four hundred years.

  The thing on the surface was a herald. That's what Daoud called it. A herald for a new war.

  And where there was war, there was power. The power to control people's lives. To send them to their deaths. There was power over creation and matter and energy. Power over annihilation. It made people think they were gods. She had helped bring that to an end, helped the Qin bring their early Artificial Intelligences into the Common Quarters.

  Daoud had set himself up as a saviour. And Sophie knew what history showed about self-appointed saviours who acquired power.

  She had to out-think Daoud. If he wasn't already, he stood a good chance of becoming corrupted by the war. He was not, she thought, so collected and far thinking as he presented himself.

  Sophie rounded the bend of the corridor. A crew waited for her to undertake more preparations for the arrival of the Military Intelligence team. As she approached, she looked at them. They were soft, young, barely thirty years old. They had been protected all of their lives. And well they should be. Well all humans should. She looked in their eyes when she arrived, and looked at innocence, and committed the image to memory.

  And as soon as she had thought of war and needing to keep Daoud on track, she forgot about it. Stopped thinking so much.

  “Crew, let's get ready for this MI team.”

  “Yes, Ma'am.”

  Sophie went about her business as Operations Director. For the moment, all thoughts of the past gone, once again.

  Daoud met the Research Director, Doctor Masjid Currie, in his office. The holo showing Huriko’s death had just stopped, freezing on the alien moving out of frame, a blur, a smear of kohl against the blue light of the holo. Masjid’s lips were pressed together, almost invisible.

  “You told me that Huriko would die of exposure, or a rock fall or something. What's... this?” he looked with alarm at the holo frozen in front of him.

  “That was the plan. Now things are different.”

  “And is this where you
got the DNA? You've always refused to say.”

  “Not this one. But something very similar, yes.”

  “This is too much. An alien, here?” Masjid drifted off, eyes lost in the hologram, and absent mindedly smoothed his wispy hair.

  Daoud waited but eventually had to bring Masjid back to the present, “There’s an MI team on the way. Standard investigation into Huriko's death. You need to make sure they find nothing.”

  “Yes, we’ve been reviewing the surface working procedures, preparing for an inspection. But we can’t prepare for this.” Masjid put his left hand to his thin beard, twisted a tuft of hair between thumb and index finger.

  “How would you describe the current state of bio-containment?”

  “Are you saying this is my fault? Is that thing related to what's below?”

  Daoud cocked his head, “You misunderstand. I expect all twenty three specimens are still here, and perfectly contained. I want to know if there’s any chance this thing could get in. Or that anyone here, any colonist, could find out what we’ve got below the Colony.”

  “No no. Only we four know. You, Sophie, me and Doctor Cassel. Peter and I check the area twice every day. Sophie’s last inspection was just a week ago.”

  “Good.”

  “However.”

  “However?”

  “I’ve been trying to contact you for the past day. This,” he indicated the holo, “has obviously kept you busy.”

  “Go on.” What was Masjid going to say now? Daoud didn't have time for distractions from old men.

  Masjid stood and walked over to the holo display and gave it an instruction. The display cleared, replaced by a hologram of what appeared to be a laboratory or a sterile cell, its white walls decorated only with holorecorders and other sensors. In the middle of the floor was a dark sphere. Though there was no scale apparent in the hologram, Daoud knew that the pods were about half a metre in diameter.