ONE
M/Y BRIGHT STAR
LIGURIAN SEA
"I want you to join a fratello in the Agency," Renato Pisano, President of the Council of Ministers of the Republic of Italy, stated.
Colonel Michele Pagani looked at his oldest friend as if he'd just asked him to jump overboard and swim back to Porta Antico, just visible to the stern from the Sky Deck of his 37m motor yacht, the M/Y Bright Star, as it cruised off Genoa.
Renato returned the gaze levelly as Michele finished pouring the Campari and orange vodka spritzer he'd been preparing into four chilled highball glasses. While the calendar had moved into autumn, summer refused to release its influence on the weather. A stiff breeze helped moderate temperatures in the low-twenties and whipped up white caps on the surface of the Sea of Liguria. It also provided support to the outspread wings of seagulls as they slowly circled in the clear sky scores of meters above, hoping that some of the antipasto spread out on the bar might find its way into their gullets.
"Now I know why you brought Monica and Fernando with you," Michele noted. "No offense," he added as he placed the drinks down in front of Minister of Defense Monica Petris and Doctor Fernando Bianchi, the senior medical officer of the Social Welfare Agency's cyborg program.
"None taken, Colonel," Minister Petris replied and Doctor Bianchi merely smiled.
Michele carried his own drink around the end of the bar and took the corner seat, turning to face Renato. "In answer to your request, I formally reply thanks, but no thanks. I have no interest in running around Italy hunting down terrorists with a little girl in tow."
"She doesn't have to be a little girl," Doctor Bianchi noted, indicating with a nod of his head the redhead cyborg in a two-piece bikini lounging in the hot tub at the front of the Sky deck. "In fact, the girl we have in mind for you is almost seventeen."
"Doctor, I celebrated my 45th birthday in June. How many people do you know have a sibling almost three decades their junior? Not to mention that it's no secret that I'm an only child, so suddenly appearing with a sister of any age is not going to really fly now, is it?"
"Well she's Japanese, so being part of your immediate family isn't really an option. We were thinking something like foster adoption or perhaps a university exchange student staying with you. There's also that compensated dating thing…" Renato ruminated.
"Enjou kousai," Michele replied. "Haven't you heard the expression 'Never date a woman less than half your age plus seven?' Well, in your case, maybe you haven't," he added with a wink to Renato.
The Prime Minister, who was often seen in the company of women who were both not his wife and significantly younger then himself, flashed Michele a friendly scowl.
"The subject's 'Compatibility Index' is at a level which makes her a perfect candidate for conversion," Doctor Bianchi stated. "We're already working to have her transferred to the SWA."
"I'm not qualified to be a handler," Michele stated.
"You've served with the Special Forces of the Aeronautica Militare Italiana and with the Agenzia Informazioni e Sicurezza Esterna," Minister Petris noted. "Your service in both fields would be both relevant and beneficial to being a handler."
"I've been a researcher behind a desk for the last four years," Michele replied. "If I was ever qualified to serve as a handler to a cyborg girl, that time has long since passed."
"Then train with her. It will improve the cyborg's bonding process with you and make her more effective, will it not, Doctor?"
Bianchi nodded his head. "The girls often develop emotional attachments to their handlers. The more time they spend together, the better."
"Can you excuse us for a moment, Doctor?" Renato asked. Bianchi took his drink and descended the steps to the Upper Saloon.
"You know I'm only thirty days from retirement," Michele observed.
Renato locked eyes with Michele.
"That's why I'm coming to you now," he replied.
Michele sighed.
"I ordered this boat a year ago, when I was accepted to the IASD. I planned to complete that one-year assignment with the High Institute for Defense Studies and then I could retire from the Service and sail around the world. And now you want me to become a rich-boy superspy, like a real life James Bond or Simon Templar. Do you understand how ridiculous that sounds?"
"Michele—"
"Seriously, I drive Ferraris and wear five-figure bespoke suits from Kiton and Caraceni. I'm as out of place in such a role as Roger Moore was in his last few Bond films," Michele growled.
"I'm not asking you to skulk down back alleys or blow-up Soviet arms factories, Michele. When my sons were in medie superior they used to watch one of those Japanese cartoons RAI would run. It was a science fiction show called Kate & July set in the future featuring two girls in bikinis that travelled the galaxy solving problems. They were called 'trouble consultants' and that is what I am asking you and this girl, whose name is Kumari Deleroux, to be," Renato stated.
"And what kind of 'trouble' do you want Kumari and I to 'consult' on?"
"We've been mildly successful in restricting the pipeline of cash that Padania and the Five Republics have been tapping into from within Italy," Monica noted. "However, that has just encouraged them to seek funds outside of Italy. For all their public xenophobia, Padania and the Five Republics Faction are privately working with the Albanian mafia along with the Chinese triads in northern cities like Milan, Brecia and Padua," Renato added. "In return for laundering money those groups generate from prostitution and drug trafficking, they get to keep a cut, which they use to fund their operations. Those gangs also help the PRF smuggle in weapons and other contraband."
"And while the Associazione del Nord claims that they have no association with the Five Republics Faction, we both know that they're as in bed with them as Sinn Féin was with the Provisional IRA," Monica stated. "Acting as a political association gives them a sense of "legitimacy" in certain European political, intellectual and high society circles that the PRF is using to make contacts with elements outside of Italy who feel there is profit to be had in breaking up the Republic."
"And with two dozen intelligence and counter-terrorism agencies at your command, I'm your only option?" Michele asked, his voice betraying his incredulousness at what he was hearing. Italy was literally awash in counter-terrorist and counter-intelligence groups. Each branch of the military had their own Special Forces unit, as did the National Police force. Italy even had two intelligence services – one for domestic operations and one for international.
"The whole reason I created the Agency was to give me the flexibility to operate independently of all those various groups and their innumerable turf wars," Renato replied. "They all want a piece of every action because they see it as political coin they can use to advance their own interests or block the advancement of the interests of their rivals."
With so many groups, there was significant competition for resources – both monetary and personnel. Then there were also the conflicting "fields of interest" between the military and civilian units. This resulted in convoluted and unclear chains of command that hindered effective combined operations. And so many groups made for a larger and richer environment for graft and corruption to take root. The Padania Republican Faction in the north followed the tradition of the Mafioso in the south, bribing civilian and military police and officials as well as supporting the election and appointment of "pro-Padania" government officials who themselves then influenced the civilian bureaucracy and police forces they administered. An effective assassination campaign against those who could not be bribed also helped cow many others to "look the other way" or not get involved. All of this resulted in an uncoordinated and ineffective response by Rome to the threat raised by the PRF.
Monica inclined her head to the girl in the Jacuzzi.
"That Petrushka girl is a chameleon – she can be a 15-year old secondary school girl in the morning, a 20-year old Polizia di Frontiera officer in the afternoon, and an 18-year old service industry worker in the evening. Because of this, they require a different type of person to be their handler. Someone who can take advantage of the additional flexibility we will be putting into the cyborg's conditioning.
"The technology has advanced significantly in the past year and we're now able to tailor traits and capabilities on an individual basis like never before. We have a combat diving fratelli and another is running around the world closing foreign lines of money and weapons."
Renato motioned for Michele to refresh his drink and then leaned back in his chair, looking into the bright blue sky.
"I'll be honest, Michele. The first tranche of handlers we hired came from military and police backgrounds with no families and few friends. They were chosen not to be active agents, but instead to be…well, chaperons, frankly. The initial cyborgs were designed to be shock troops so the handlers just needed to be there to point them at the target and recover them after they'd eliminated said target.
"These new cyborgs require more capable handlers to oversee them. Petrushka's handler is a former spy in Public Safety, so their fratello perform mostly espionage and intelligence-gathering missions. We've started recruiting from outside of Italy where we've needed specific skills, but you've known about the program since the beginning and I need a fratello that knows their way around Europe and society circles to disrupt PRF activities. You've been working with NATO these last few years of your military career and you have contacts all over Europe, North America and Asia as well as direct experience with operating in those countries."
"You're not going to give me a choice, are you?" Michele asked his friend.
Renato reached into a leather portfolio lying on the bar and removed a leather binder, placing it before Michele.
"I can't force you to do something you don't want to, Michele. But I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't feel it important and if I didn't feel you were the right choice. Kumari is going to be a cyborg and I believe you are the best person to supervise and support her."
Michele opened the portfolio and looked at the included picture, which showed an attractive Japanese girl in her mid-teens dressed in a red long-sleeve turtleneck sweater, black tufted miniskirt, and knee-high black leather boots. The dossier noted that Kumari's father was Japanese and her mother French, though they were not married. Their respective occupations were astronomer and computer programmer.
Michele closed the binder and pushed it away. "I really don't want to know how she came to our attention because I know it will not be an uplifting story."
"I understand," the PM replied, but Michele wondered if his friend really did.