The Universe - or Nothing Part 8

We've asked them repeatedly to not interfere with the Slingshot program. We've emphasized to each INOR government that Slingshot is as important to them as it is to us. They're not listening. We're still pressing diplomatic means, meanwhile, our logistics is being disrupted by Pluto's President Narval's hoodlums."

"How does this team fit in?"

"If we send in a military force to sweep away these scoundrels, our action will be seen as an imperialist intrusion into the Outer Region. It will create such resentment among the governments out there that the Slingshot schedule cannot help but suffer serious harm. Getting INOR's cooperation will also become more difficult than ever.

"Maybe, if we gather enough hard evidence of a conspiracy and confront them with it, they'll change their ways. Right now, they're blaming the attacks on partisans over whom they say they have no control. We don't buy that. We need you to gather and send confirmations to us and, while you're doing that, disrupt the plans and weapons being marshaled against us. Use whatever initiatives you can devise on site. Go where you need to, do whatever it takes to frustrate our adversaries."

"What happens if we fail?"

"Failure is unacceptable. As long as you or any of your people are alive and useful to us we'll get through to you and we'll expect you to keep us current on developments."

"Big order."

"Yes, it is."

"I am, or rather, I was, skipper of a s.p.a.ce freighter," Brad said, tenting his hands. "I know almost nothing of military operations, intelligence gathering, and especially covert actions, whatever those might entail. I'm not familiar with s.p.a.ce weapons except for garden-variety small arms. Other than k.u.miko, I gather that the members of this team are not experts in the weapons and explosives we are likely to encounter or use. You're sending us in against a rough crowd, from the way you describe them. Aren't you risking a lot on us?"

"Absolutely."

"I refuse."

"You're not being given the choice. Neither are the others."

"I can withhold my cooperation."

"I repeat, Brad, you have no choice."

Ram paused, eyeball to eyeball with Brad, whose eyes had gone cold. Ram's voice went as flat as when he had read the group their orders.

"You will be psychologically adjusted as you progress through this indoctrination. The 'adjustment', for want of a better term, is necessary for several reasons. It applies to the entire team."

Brad stared.

"What does that mean?"

"Just that we can't afford to let normal human weaknesses and scruples interfere the mission."

"The h.e.l.l you say," Brad raised his voice. "You're telling me we're expendable?"

"You're in covert intelligence work, Brad, and you'll be in the enemy's camp. Doesn't that answer your question?"

"Come on, dammit."

Meeting Brad's eyes, Ram shrugged.

"Each of you will be full to the brim with motivational boosters to keep you oriented to the mission. You won't stray, whatever the temptations. We'll install undetectable barriers against psychic probes; then there are..."

"d.a.m.n you, Ram." Brad cut in, his voice crackling with rage. "You sons of b.i.t.c.hes are going to robotize us. Expendable is bad enough; you're programming us into suicide."

"Not quite, Brad. Hear me out."

Ram paced restlessly as he spoke, his tall, slender frame swaying, his head changing direction to maintain eye contact.

Brad rose and stood erect, legs apart, fists on hips, fury pouring out in his body language.

"Your team has just been a.s.sembled," Ram said, "yet we don't have a moment to lose to get you in place and operational. Orientation and training will allow no more than four sleeps. The special knowledge and skills each you needs for this mission will be implanted into your conscious and subconscious minds, and, as it suits our needs, into your survival instincts. We have a long history at this game."

Brad rose and strode angrily up the aisle to the door and pressed the panel that would slide it open. The panel did not function. Other than raise his eyes to follow him to the door, Ram continued talking as if Brad had remained nearby. After a moment's hesitation, Brad returned to his seat.

Ram paused and gazed at Brad sympathetically.

"If you're all going to operate like a well-lubed machine, without appearing to be doing so," he said, "you'll need all the gimmicks we can hang on to each of you."

Ram shrugged and went on, "News of your escape will be broadcast system-wide; all part of the cover.

They'll be suspicious for quite a while, but you've got to infiltrate, despite the risks.

"The mission has many subtleties; you must all understand how they interact. Above all, you must never, despite the most extreme interrogation, betray the mission. In that sense, yes, you are expendable. Small comfort, I know, but insurance against betrayal will entail a simple psy-mod."

"Is there to be a complex one?"

"Yes."

"Let's have it all, man."

"If you are to join these terrorists, pirates, or whatever they are, your characters must be suitable to blend with theirs. On the one hand, you will be loyal to each other and to us; on the other, you, and I mean each of you, will lie, cheat, bribe, subvert, sabotage, and kill for the mission, and if it serves our greater purpose, act convincingly against us. That's one complex psy-mod."

"There's more?"

"There's communications and one other. About comm, off-planet messages from Planet Pluto, especially through spunnel channels, are under the tight control of Pluto's insurgent government.

Transmission facilities are under constant heavy guard. You'll all be checked out by the Pluto's security people to make sure none of you are carrying prohibited comm gear or are otherwise wired."

"The 'other'."

"Last resort. It's need-to-know, if and when needed. When you become aware of the crisis to which it applies it will surface in your consciousness and in the mind of one other member of your team. You'll each know what to do."

"Sounds like a jolly crowd."

Ram grinned.

"I'm sure you'll all have a party. Back to comm: the Log Depot and the Terminal work sites have spunnel centers. Zolan will have the access codes to the Log Depot. At all costs, keep the construction site from becoming involved in this intelligence operation. If word got out that we used the Terminals for covert intelligence or military transmissions, the Outer Region governments would blow their collective tops.

We can rationalize using the Log Depot if we experience piracy and hara.s.sment of our transports and citizens. It'll be extremely dangerous to go beyond that."

"No chance of using the Pluto comm center?"

Brad asked.

"Don't count on it." Ram replied grimly.

"What happens afterward, a.s.suming that we survive? Also, can what you're doing to each of us be reversed so that we can return to what, for us, would be normal?"

"In the order you raise them: first, after this is over you will all be free citizens, records cleared, and we'll help you to return to your former lives, or reasonably close to what they were; second, the mods are reversible and you will all be de-programmed.