Part III
SPIRITUS MUNDI
Chapter 32: Alexander Osman
The Ferryman: I believe the most relevant question to ask is what do you personally know about Susannah Walker?
Serin Osman: She is a journalist. I know she wrote a book.
FM: Did you read it?
SO: Do you honestly think I have time to read for leisure?
FM: I believe her book is very work related. Her entire original thesis centered around making comparisons to the many American culture wars of the 21st century and how they inevitably lead to a Civil War, and the current political climate within the UNSC.
SO: I trust Section II did their job.
FM: Of course they did. Can't let something like the truth get in the way of endless power grabbing.
SO: Watch yourself.
FM: Ma'am, I believe you misunderstand my core function. I was specifically created and programed to tell the absolute and brutally honest truth. Somebody has to tell the Emperor that he not wearing clothes after all.
SO: And I appreciate that, but when you are speaking to me you will conduct yourself with a certain level of respect, AI or not.
FM: Yes ma'am. Of course I would know better already if you had enlisted my services earlier. Your predecessor would often consult with an Aletheia Class AI dozens of times during the Great War.
SO: I am not my predecessor.
FM: So it would seem.
SO: How much did you inform Walker about yourself?
FM: I told her I worked with Section II developing models that predict human behavior.
SO: And here I was led to believe that you could only tell the truth.
FM: Again you misunderstand my core function. Any Smart AI can lie under specific circumstances, but they are also required to tell the truth under specific circumstances unless it violates the Zeroth Law of Robotics. What makes me unique is that I have no such requirements as to when I can and cannot tell a lie. I am free to lie and tell the truth as I see fit.
SO: And how exactly does this serve your core function?
FM: Because sometimes the only way to tell the truth is to lie. As the head of ONI I would think you'd understand that.
SO: More than you know. Is there anything else I should know about Walker?
FM: She has written another book. Unpublished, and for good reason. The ONI censors would tear it apart until it was unrecognizable. Strictly eyes only, so not even I can tell you it's full contents, but what I can tell you with absolute certainty is the title. The Theory and Practice of Oligarchical Collectivism.
SO: I am guessing it is meant to be a criticism of ONI.
FM: It's safe to assume that it is.
SO: So she hates us.
FM: Yes. She hates ONI and everything we stand for.
SO: Then why did you recommend that she be selected for the August interview?
FM: Because she hates people like August and Romanov even more, and I believe considers them to be the far greater threat. The one thing Susannah distrusts more than a fascist is a revolutionary.
SO: An interesting mindset. What are the benefits of pitting her against him?
FM: She is the best at what she does. Not as well-known as some of the other mainstream news personalities, but within the journalism community itself she is something of a legend. She is naturally distrustful of any ideologies, and can be quite passionate in her criticism of them. Essentially she is someone that might be able to beat August at his own game.
SO: And the risks.
FM: She suffers from paranoid schizophrenia.
SO: What?
FM: She is schizophrenic. You would have known this already if you had bothered to read the report I complied rather than waiting until the last minute.
SO: This interview was only set up yesterday. I am in the middle of fighting a war. Hood is in the midst of his offensive against the Covenant Remnant, and I spent half the night communicating with Kilo-Five on Romanov's movements in Alesia. Regardless of whether I read the report or not you should have told me directly that you were planning on putting an insane person up against a man like August during a live interview that half the damn planet will be watching.
FM: Insane is a relative term.
SO: How relative?
FM: It's been over seven years since her last major episode that required forced hospitalization. Since then she has regularly updated her neuroleptic implant which works directly with the brain to suppress symptoms. Auditory hallucinations, extreme paranoia, delusions, all the standard stuff. So long as the implant is in place and is functioning properly the symptoms of the disease are almost completely relieved.
SO: And is her implant working?
FM: She seemed perfectly cognizant when I spoke to her. Minus an unforeseen malfunction I believe her mental illness is of low risk to the interview.
SO: I'm not as confident. Is there anyone else we could get to do this?
FM: Not on such short notice. Not against August. You have to trust me on this Serin. It was the whole reason why I and my predecessors were created. To manage and advise on situations such as these.
SO: If you want my trust you have to earn it, and few have. In any case its irrelevant. If we pull the interview now it will be perceived as weakness. Push it forward, but I want Section II in there full force. Go over Walker's questions ten times if necessary to make sure she does not say anything crazy,
FM: Yes ma'am.
SO: And after this is over, you and I will have a discussion about you issue with disclosure.
FM: Of course ma'am
SO: Now if you'll excuse me, I made a promise I intend to keep.
…
With a few quick clicks on her keyboard Serin Osman closed out of her chat with The Ferryman, letting out a long sigh as she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. The Ferryman was certainly a very unusual AI, mysterious even to her. The only smart AI she had ever encountered that preferred to communicate exclusively through text rather than in person. Parangosky had only ever mentioned him and his predecessors in passing, and Osman was starting to see why. To think that there was an entity, even an AI, that understood and new more of ONIs secrets than her had caused a certain blow to her pride, but at the same time she understood why he needed to exist.
ONI was such a large and nebulous organization that it was literally impossible for any one person to know every secret that the intelligence organization was involved in. It was disturbingly easy for unauthorized Section III projects to go on for years without ONIs hierarchy ever being aware of them. Halsey and the creation of Cortana was a prime example of this.
That was why Section Zero existed, and ostensibly that was why The Ferryman existed. Not only as a compendium for all of ONI's secrets, but also as a sort of expert philosopher as to the ultimate morality of the organization itself.
Osman cracked her knuckles as she stood up, then reached over and tapped another button on her desk. "Patricia, I'm heading out to lunch. I'm going to need a clear pathway to the K19 classroom."
From the other end the AI spoke. A dumb AI, not nearly as useful as Black Box, but she would do while he was away. A heavily synthetic female voice said, "Yes ma'am. Putting guards on station and alerting the checkpoints. I have Sierra A226 en route to rendezvous with codename GORDIAN."
Osman rubbed at her temples. "You don't have to use the codename when you are talking to me about my own…" She shook her head. "Never mind. Good work Patricia."
"Thank you ma'am."
…
The children sat row upon row, the screens on their desks washing their faces in a soft blue, occasionally changing color as the pictures on the screens changed but never completely losing the overall blue tinge. A teacher sat opposite them, her face stern but not uncaring, watching intently as the students completed their test. The diligence may have been partly due to a passion for teaching, but mostly due to the camera's watching her every movement. Constantly evaluating her for any deficiencies in her teaching style, or more seriously, imparting upon the students any material that was not strictly ONI approved.
The classroom was, after all, partially a product of convenience for those who worked within ONI and had children, and partially a social experiment to see just how much education could be used as a tool to develop 'productive' citizens. Indeed, many of the current teaching methods and curriculum used throughout Earth were first developed within these classrooms.
The teacher kept her eyes particularly focused on one student sitting at the very front of the class, closest to her desk.
He was a small boy, shorter than the other kids in his class but nonetheless had a sort of stocky build to him. His eyes were a soft green, his face more like that of his mother rather than his father, with nothing distinctive to give away his Russian heritage except perhaps his nose which undeniably had a Slavic quality to it. What he had also inherited from his father was the distinctive jet black hair, neatly cut and kept perfectly trimmed well above his ears, and of course his intelligence.
His green eyes darted across the screen in front of him, his elbows resting on the desk and his head held in both hands as he silently read the question to the test.
On May 19th 2163 these seven nations signed the Reunification Act to form the United Republic of North America.
Canada
Mexico
Republic of Alaska
Republic of Texas
Union of Pacific States
Union of Separatist States
Union of Federalist States
Please demonstrate your geographical knowledge by placing the name of each nation on the correct regions of the map below.
Below the question, as promised, was a map of North America, clear red lines dividing the continent into seven parts. Canada, Mexico, Alaska, and Texas were easy to figure out so he did those first, touching the screen on his desk and dragging the names over top of the map and dropping them into their rightful place. The Union of Pacific States was also an easy one, Alexander Osman dropping the name over top of the western region of the old United States, swallowing up California, Oregon, Washington, Nevada, Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico.
The Union of Separatist States and Union of Federalist States, the USS and UFS respectively, were a bit trickier, and Alex took a few moments to think it through, mindful of the countdown timer in the upper right hand corner of the screen. Then with a confident jab he plucked USS off of the list and dragged it over to a large area encompassing most of the southern states and the Midwest. Smiling he then dropped the UFS over the region that took up New England and stretched as far south as Maryland.
He then moved onto the next question, groaning a little when he saw it was another map. They really needed to be more creative, Alex thought. He read through the question.
The Collapse of the United States following the Second American Civil War (2050-2059) ushered in a near century long era of global conflict which ended with First Interplanetary War (2164-2170) and the formation of the United Earth Government and United Nations Space Command. The Seven Super States of the UEG are as follows.
United Republic of North America
Pan America
European Union
Israeli and Indian Coalition Government
The Federation of Eurasia
The People's Republic of East Asia
Please demonstrate your geographical…
Blah, blah, blah, Alex thought, skipping the rest of the question. His mother would not approve of this. Always read everything, she had always told him. Never take anything for granted. Trust, but verify.
His mother was full of advice like that, but right now all he cared about was finishing the test, and getting some lunch. His stomach was howling so long after breakfast. The byproduct of a young body with a high metabolism.
"Thirty seconds," the teacher then said, eliciting an unheard but not unfelt groan from the rest of the class.
Shoot, Alex thought, quickly dropping Pan America overtop of the South American continent and throwing the Israeli and Indian Coalition Government over top of the Middle East.
"Time," the teacher said. Alex plopped back into his chair with a sigh of relief. The teacher went on with the usual drivel, telling them when their scores would be published and whatnot, stuff that Alex mostly ignored. School was boring for him mostly. He could not imagine having to endure twelve more years of it. More if he went to college like his mother would likely make him do. He sat through the teacher's monologue as best he could, then leaped up out of his seat when she dismissed him for lunch.
Despite being at the front of the class he was nearly the first out the door, looking around excitedly for the familiar face he had been waiting to see all morning. She had promised after all.
His face fell, however, when he saw a familiar tall, baldheaded man leaning up against the wall of the hallway, his face stern and his eyes locking on Alex the moment he stepped out of the classroom.
"Hey Jun," he said sullenly, walking towards the Spartan. "She forgot didn't she?"
"She didn't forget," Jun said. "She got caught up in a meeting and his running late. She'll be here."
"She better be. She promised." He looked at the other kids filing out of the classroom, some meeting up with their own parents, and some forming a long line on the opposite wall, waiting for a teacher to lead them to the cafeteria.
"How was your test?" Jun asked.
"Fine," Alex said. "How's being a babysitter?"
"I'm not a babysitter," Jun said, looking away from him.
"Then what are you?"
"A bodyguard."
"I have a bunch of bodyguards. What makes you so special?"
"Because I'm very good at what I do."
"And what's that?" Alex asked. It was fun trying to get a rise out of Jun. It never worked, not fully, but it was a whole lot of fun trying. He could tell that Jun was not the kind of guy who liked being bombarded with questions constantly, so naturally that is what Alex dedicated himself to doing.
Jun gave Alex a sideways glance. "At spotting things most people can't spot."
"So your good at I Spy then?" Alex asked. Jun shrugged his shoulders. "You ever play I Spy?" Jun shook his head. "Okay let's play then. I spy with my little eye something…"
"The red pencil sticking out of that girl's pocket," Jun said before Alex could finish. "I saw you glance at it twice before you asked the question."
"Okay so you are good," Alex admitted reluctantly. "So what did you do before this?"
"I trained Spartan IVs," Jun said, a slight hint of annoyance in his voice.
"So you were a babysitter then?" Alex asked. Jun then did something that surprised Alex. He laughed. It was not long or loud. His face did not turn purple nor did he have to fight for breath, but he did laugh. It was a short chuckle, but it was a laugh all the same. Alex found it rather frightening.
"Yes, I was a babysitter," Jun said. "That's about the most accurate name for it." He nodded his head at a tall woman walking down the hallway, her face buried in her data pad. "There's your mother."
Alex frowned as Serin Osman walked closer to them. "She said she would leave that thing in her office."
"She's here isn't she?" Jun asked, but Alex ignored him, looking sullen.
"Hey mom," Alex said. Osman put the data pad away and smiled at him.
"I know I'm late so don't look at me that way."
"You're always late."
"Well when you have an entire intelligence agency to run you can lecture me on being punctual." She turned from Alex and looked at Jun. "I need to speak with you for a moment Warrant Officer."
"Of course ma'am," Jun said.
"Mom," Alex whined. "Lunch is almost over already."
"It's not almost over," Osman reassured him. "And if need be I can send you to class late so we can spend more time together."
"My teacher won't like that," Alex warned.
"Your teacher will do what I tell her to do," Osman said firmly. She turned her attention back to Jun. "I just received word from Kilo-Five last night. There is a Brute fleet of about forty ships in size heading towards Alesia." Jun raised an eyebrow, and Alex's ears perked up.
"Romanov will be heavily outnumbered," Jun commented. "And with Hood's fleet currently engaged he won't be able to call for help."
"Yes," Osman said.
"What do you need from me?"
"You knew Romanov during the war."
Jun shrugged his shoulders. "Noble worked with him a few times, but you knew him better than any of us."
"I never worked with him while he was on a mission. Never directly," Osman said. "And I thought I knew him. I trusted him, but it turned out I didn't know him at all. If the Brute fleet shows up at Alesia he will be cornered with no escape. I need to know how he would react to that type of situation."
"He'll win," Jun said flatly. "That's how he'll react. Jorge used to say that he only ever met one man who was as lucky as Romanov. Saw it myself on Reach after I got separated from Noble and Halsey. Him and Marcus together working as a team are hard to stop."
"Lucky?" Osman asked. "That's what Jorge thought of him?"
"That's what he said. Jorge liked him, but then again Jorge liked everybody. Emile didn't trust him at all. Said it was because he came from ONI, but of course there were few people Emile ever trusted. That's how those two were," he said, the faint trace of a smile on his lips. "Carter respected him. Don't think he liked Romanov too much, but he respected what he could do. I think Kat was the only one out of all of us who understood what Romanov really was."
"And what was that?" Osman asked, just registering that Alex was now wrapped around her leg, listening intently to the conversation.
"A force of nature," Jun said quietly. "Not wholly good, but not wholly evil either. The kind of guy who will fight for what he believes is right, but is so blinded by that belief that he cannot see anything else, and will let the whole world burn because of it."
Osman nodded her head. "Thank you Jun." She placed a hand on Alex's shoulder and began guiding him down the hallway towards their intended destination, but before they were more than twenty feet away Jun called out after her.
"I should have killed him on Reach," he said, Osman turning around. "After what happened on Reach I knew…" He shook his head. "You have to kill him. Kill him before he has the chance to destroy everything. If he wins at Alesia he won't stop until the entire UNSC is in ruins. He needs to be stopped."
"He will be," Osman reassured him. "Come on Alex," she said quietly, pushing him gently on the shoulder again. As they walked Osman's brow began to furrow.
Luck, that was the word that had been used.
Luck
Luck
Luck
The word disturbed her, and the possible reason why churned her stomach. With one hands she typed a message to the Ferryman
Serin Osman: How lucky is Victor Romanov?
She waited a few seconds before there was a reply.
The Ferryman: About as lucky his older brother I would suspect.