ACT II | THE TYRANT'S HUNGER


CHAPTER X | THEORY


THE BLACK ARMORY | ROME | SOVIET UNION

Clovis breathed contentedly as he walked the Roman streets. This was a place with some of Humanity's oldest history , the heart of civilization for centuries, and, now, a jewel of the Soviet Union. It was one of his favorite places to visit, and he had made it a point to tour the city during his campaign for General Secretary. Bray Incorporated had, of course, also invested heavily into Italian infrastructure and businesses.

Then again, the true value of Rome today was not in its history, but in what it housed.

The Black Armory. A massive underground labyrinth with only a scant few entry points, most of which were nondescript buildings registered to endless chains of shell companies. Founded shortly before the invasion of Australia by the Chinese, the Black Armory was the Triumvirate joint weapons and technology program

Every single major weapons test, from nuclear to ballistic, energy to physical, took place in the deep labyrinth. It was a city beneath a city, with dozens of different departments, covering everything from infantry, to armor, to cybernetics, to exo-skeletons all existed underneath. It had taken five years to carve out the humble beginnings of the Black Armory, and, in the decades since then, it had been greatly expanded.

The Black Armory was where tests and experiments could be conducted with limitless resources, endless time, and complete secrecy. Every defense company of note was involved somehow, after all, a place of creativity required a diversity of thought. Here was where the technology for the next war was being developed, and, since the Traveler had arrived, the Black Armory was being expanded once more.

It would be a major expansion.

As he waited, he idly wondered how he would reveal this to Valentin and some of the other Traveler-compromised individuals. It would do no good to have the irritatingly curious man accidentally find reference, or worse, decide to visit himself without the curated path Clovis would lead. It was a benign enough purpose – Valentin was still Soviet, and it was certainly not a crime for a state to have classified research institutions.

Of course, the Human experimentation wing was doubtless something Valentin and the others would object to, and a quiet halt to those experiments had been ordered, and the individuals had been returned to general Triumvirate prisons. A temporary setback, and perhaps an unnecessary hurdle. Human experimentation was crucial for development, but it could be bypassed in certain instances.

If not? Well, there were plans.

It was a matter of presentation, bluff, and deception – all of which he excelled at. Right now, Valentin was caught in the narrative he'd spun, and was playing his role quite nicely – it fell to the other Triumvirate leaders to similarly play the game with their Traveler-appointed watchers.

They were more cautious. More timid. They agreed with his path, they agreed it was necessary, certainly, but, to lie to a god? To deceive a creature of such power? Now that took courage, it took daring. When faced with one of equivalent or greater power, people showed who they really were.

Quinn and Li would have capitulated, had he not showed them the error of their way of thinking. Gopal, of course, had folded fully. Quinn and Li were made of sterner stuff, but they still feared. They were not weak links though, they were merely pieces on his chessboard, semi-autonomous players who were essential for the endgame.

Fortunately, he had taken their caution into account and twisted it to his own benefit.

All to lull the alien into a sense of advancement.

When the new world came about, it would be championed by the watchers of the Traveler.

All according to plan.

"[General Secretary]" Clovis looked up to see a man standing at attention. He wore civilian clothing, tan khakis, a blue t-shirt, a backpack slung over his shoulder, sunglasses, and a cap turned ever-so-slightly sideways. A native of Rome, of course, and known within the community and to certain interests.

A man with a name, but not a real one. The ones who staffed the Black Armory had no true identities. To those on the surface, they seemed to live entirely normal lives. In fact, they lived within the endless labyrinth, their lives devoted to the Triumvirate. Few had the drive and stomach to sacrifice for the Black Armory, those that did were shaped into the best, smartest, and most driven of Humanity.

Of course, the Triumvirate nations still worked on their own national projects in secret – one of many decisions he saw as self-destructive for all of them – but, ever since the anomaly had appeared over Mars, the Black Armory had been returned to its full power and glory.

Clovis nodded once. "[You come from the crypt?]"

The man did not answer, instead producing a paper card. On it was an inverted arch, with the smaller emblems of each of the three main branches surrounding it. The emblem of the Black Armory. Confirmation of identity. Another nod. "[Right this way, General Secretary.]" Disguised as he was, Clovis drew no crowd as the man led him through busy streets for several blocks, though the KGB was keeping a watchful eye, regardless.

He didn't fail to notice the man subtly crumple the card and drop it into a puddle, where it dissolved into nothing. The cards were intentionally fragile and easy to completely destroy; a necessary precaution. They entered the building – which was fairly busy,it was a legitimate tourist shop, after all – and he was led down a series of stairs to a false wall which contained the elevator to the maze below.

Stepping out into the well-marked hallways of dark steel, his guide led him through the groups of uniformed scientists, engineers, and officers who bore patches of the Black Armory on one shoulder and their branch on the other. Considering who he was meeting today, he wasn't surprised he was being led to the branch with the sign of the butterfly.

The Branch of Human Augmentation, Enhancement, and Refinement.

One of the more fascinating, in his humble opinion, as the future of Humanity would be born in these halls Some of the people seemed to notice him, but they did not comment. They knew better than to interfere, and it was not unusual for important members of the state to visit the Armory.

The Armory was riddled with checkpoints, to a point most people would consider excessive, but it was necessary to maintain compartmentalisation. As the head of a Triumvirate state, he had access everywhere, but not everyone did. Armed and armored guards stood at each checkpoint, and every inch of the facility was surveilled by cameras, overseen by four separate groups, one for each Triumvirate nation.

"[They are in here, General Secretary,]" the man said, gesturing to a door. "[When your business is concluded, you will be escorted out. I hope your discussion is fruitful.]"

"[Appreciated,]" Clovis said with a farewell nod as he entered the room. It was spartan, like much of the facility – rooms and labs only had what they absolutely required, clutter was kept to a minimum. The streamlined aesthetics of silver, black, and grey were ever-present. Vanity items like flags, banners, and nationalistic memorabilia were absent.

This was a place of work and collaboration, not of indulgence and rivalry.

Inside, four people were waiting. Matthew Bray, an extended uncle, who was now in charge of the Bray Cybernetics division of Bray Incorporated. A true pioneer and loyalist to the cause. Nomi Satou, a true rarity, in that she ran one of the only Japan-based companies to regularly be involved in important projects of the Communist Empire. Satou Cybernetics was likely the best in the business, much as Clovis hated to admit it, and Nomi was one of the shrewdest businesswomen alive – a necessity to not only convince the Chinese to allow her to retain control, but also charm, bribe, and threaten her way into the halls of power.

An admirable woman.

Then, there was Amy Meyrin, a proud and distinguished woman who cut an imposing figure. Proper, stiff, and fully controlled in her speech and actions, she was one of the most intelligent and dangerous women alive. Former CIA officers always were, and, now that she was in charge of DARPA…one could only imagine what the CIA's own iron lady was capable of.

Clovis had considered bringing her into the fold. She was one of the few who had the backbone to understand…but first he would need to see how she managed a simpler project. His eye was on her, and he had high expectations.

Then there was Detlev Rasmussen – originally Soviet-German, who eventually emigrated to the American States and had started Connective Tissue – a low-profile neuroscience think tank that was bankrolled by the very wealthy Rasmussen family (all of whom had also emigrated to America – the rich always chafed under Soviet taxes). Clovis knew little of them – but did know that they had been working with DARPA and Satou Cybernetics on something.

Something that appeared to be coming to fruition.

"General Secretary, welcome," Matthew said, inclining his head.

"Of course," Clovis answered cordially. "Will there be other guests?"

"Not today, General Secretary," Amy said in a clipped voice, eyes piercing his own. "President Quinn has already been briefed, and given her approval. President Li is scheduled to visit shortly, and we similarly expect his approval. We are working with the Indians to determine if the Interim President can authorize projects such as these. Should there be majority approval, it is ultimately inconsequential."

"Then do not waste time," Clovis stated, clasping his hands behind his back. "Begin."

Amy pressed a button, and the holotable they were standing around activated, showing a small moon-like object encased in a translucent ball. Just above it was another, smaller, sphere. "This is Europa," Amy began. "A moon of Jupiter. A frozen ball of ice. Unimportant, inconsequential – and the Traveler is now over it."

She gestured up. "Before anyone jumps to hasty conclusions – no, the Traveler is not turning it into another Mars. She is doing what she has been doing to several other nearby moons. There's hints of a stabilizing atmosphere and radiation levels are plummeting. In short? She is making it survivable for us. Admiral Holliday believes that she is intending for these to be 'outposts' to utilize against the presumed conflict with the mortal enemy of this alien – one which she claims is coming here."

Her face showed her skepticism. "Irrespective of the likelihood of this, the suggestion by Admiral Holliday is sound. The Black Armory has held a dedicated place in the Triumvirate for decades, and it is only proper – and necessary – that it be given similar dedication as the Triumvirate expands to the stars. With this in mind, we are proposing the ArchMoon Project – Code designation: Deep Stone Crypt."

The transparency of the moon shifted and zoomed in to reveal the planned superstructure built directly into Europa's ice shell itself. A plan to turn the moon into a compound without equal. Thousands of levels, wings, and labs, all within a fortress shell of unimaginable scale. Buried kilometers down, habitats for up to several million inhabitants, completely protected from the outside. The cutting edge of everything.

A black moon, for the most secret of projects of the Triumvirate.

A fitting moon for the Black Armory.

Amy continued on, describing some largely uninteresting datapoints about expected time, manpower, how it would start with a deep core wing, and expand further out throughout the moon. Structural stability, risks involved, all of which he heard, but didn't personally register as important – because, in the end, it wasn't.

The metal and materials would be acquired from the upcoming Triumvirate Asteroid Mining Program – a subsidiary of the expanded Triumvirate Space Corps. Machinery could be built and manpower acquired as swiftly as everything else. Cost? The old ideas of money were dissolving before their eyes.

Funding mattered very little when one had control of the global economy.

He lifted a hand, cutting her off. "Answer me one question – is this a justifiable goal in service of the Black Armory?"

Her response was immediate. "Yes."

"Then you have my approval, and that of the Soviet Union," Clovis said. "I will ensure that everything is in place on our end to begin construction of the Deep Stone Crypt." He looked around the room. "I am also assuming that this project is not the only reason I am here."

"No," Amy looked to the Rasmussen. "Mr. Rasmussen?"

Detlev Rasmussen inclined his head. "General Secretary, a pleasure to meet you in person. I will be brief in my summary – the scientific information and data that the Traveler has provided have heavily accelerated the research my firm has been conducting."

"And would you care to enlighten me as to what you are conducting?" Clovis asked. "I am unfamiliar with the specifics of Connective Tissue."

"Professionally, Secretary Bray, this would be classified as a transhumanist endeavor," he said, eyes fairly intense. "However, it is also an immortality project – one I believe the Triumvirate can utilize."

That certainly had his attention. "Please, continue."

"What I and my firm have been exploring is, to greatly simplify, the digitization of the Human mind, consciousness itself," he continued. "As you can imagine, this is a highly niche, young, and largely unexplored field of study. Difficult to find backing, difficult to find interest, and very little hard data to pull from outside of the realm of science fiction. But I have always believed such to be possible, and, now, thanks to the Traveler, we have extrapolated to prove viability."

He began to describe the exact science, and Clovis lifted a hand to cut him off. "I presume that, if you are here, the science itself is sound. I am no scientist, and, while I appreciate the transparency, it means nothing to me." He looked around the room. "I trust some of you can vouch for his assessment?"

"Yes, I can," Amy nodded once. "Odd as it may sound, I've verified with DARPA experts, and they reached similar, if extremely preliminary, conclusions."

"I can confirm as well," Nomi Satou added, glancing to him. "In fact, I am also part of this initiative. The digitization of consciousness will require electronics and cybernetics that were previously impossible to achieve. Thanks to the Traveler, prototypes are able to be conceptualized."

"As can I, General Secretary," Matthew said. "I've personally looked over the findings, and the science – for now – is plausible."

"Noted," Clovis nodded. "And for what purpose do you envision this 'immortality' taking place?"

"The immortality aspect is, ultimately, not important, as a tool, for the Triumvirate," Detlev said. "What is important is freeing the mind from the biological limitations imposed upon us. I am putting forward two programs – a small one, which can explore this idea more fully – and a larger one, that is intended to usher in the next generation of Triumvirate military power."

Satou changed the holographic projection to a humanoid mechanical shell – it looked like a Human, and had similar proportions, but was clearly mechanical and imposing. "The Triumvirate Exoskeleton Project, or Exo, if you want to use the shortened term. We had originally conceptualized this as a form of mechanized soldier, designed to supplant Humans entirely, but, after speaking with Mr. Rasmussen, we saw the benefits of combining the two projects into a new-age supersoldier."

"The concept is one which was previously explored to some degree," Detlev continued. "However, the extent of those programs was very limited. Steroids, drugs, slow and superficial genetic modification. Inferior, compared to an artificial platform, where we can control so much more, a system that is more efficient and effective than an organic combatant - and which we can easily mass-produce."

He noted the features of the proposed soldier. "Modular configuration, distributed vitality, several times the strength and speed of a human, with reaction times to match, a full suite of sensor systems and autonomous subsystems. Dr. Satou has ensured that this basic prototype would be capable of facing the finest of the US and Soviet Special Forces. And," he paused for a moment, "This prototype will demonstrate the perfect loyalty and unquestioning decisiveness of these Exos."Clovis nodded slowly. "A machine… a human machine."

"Indeed, General Secretary."

"And you want to begin more serious testing."

"We do."

"What do you need?"

"People, in the end," Detlev said. "We couldn't hope to build the computer to drive the hardware from scratch, and uploaded lobsters aren't going to suffice." Detlev's mouth twitched upwards. "It does not matter where they come from, in the end, though it is preferable that they be…of little importance, at least initially. It is likely that there will be a number of failures before we reach our objectives. I am aware there are certain changes taking place in regards to Human testing, but I suspect we can find alternatives."

"There are a large number of terrorists who are due to be sentenced soon," Clovis mused idly. "Certain to receive the death penalty. Perhaps a…reduced sentence, in exchange for participating in a dangerous experiment."

It was a quite delicious idea. A means of skirting the irritating morality the Traveler seemed to prefer, and making the Triumvirate look benevolent in the process. After all, who was going to go to bat for a terrorist? That, he was quite sure, was a line even the Traveler would not cross.

The Exo Project did not interest him because he believed it was necessarily a better next-generation soldier, but because it was one that would be firmly controlled by the Triumvirate, not an alien. An army whose loyalty could be assured. After all, if one could digitize a consciousness, controlling it was a simple matter.

A subtle project, one he would need to have a careful hand in. Amy's guiding hand may be needed in this instance. Nonetheless, a perfect project to grace the labyrinth that would be the Deep Stone Crypt. An ominous, fitting code name. He liked it, melodramatic as it was. Then again, drama was what made life interesting.

"Very well," he finally said. "Consider my approval given. Ensure I am kept informed on the progress of both projects, Mr. Rasmussen."

The man smiled. "As you wish, General Secretary. It will be my pleasure."


NEW DELHI | DELHI | REPUBLIC OF INDIAN TERRITORIES

Two weeks of investigation, observation, and calling in favors from his many, many contacts, and Isaiah doubted there was going to be much more he could glean from the aftermath of the assassination. The Indians were still in disarray, and it was the only reason he was risking an actual on-site investigation.

The feeling had only grown stronger the more he thought about what had happened. Something was off, he'd felt it since that impromptu Resistance Council meeting. Initially, he had thought it was because he'd been out of the loop entirely, and the result had come as a surprise.

His review of the Wheel Cell's operations laid out exactly what had happened. A perfect storm, culminating in the death of a Triumvirate head of state. Still, something had not been satisfactory about the timeline, and it bothered him that he felt that way. He disliked feelings like this, with no discernable source.

But something was off.

It was beyond Jilla deciding to do her own thing – no, there were a few factors at play here.

The Triumvirate was the primary entity in contact with the Traveler.

The Triumvirate knew that the Traveler was unlikely to be an inherent ally.

The Triumvirate would need some way to maintain the status quo.

The Triumvirate was not above doing whatever they thought was necessary to maintain their power. He was confident about this – if the Triumvirate felt that they could maintain their power by murdering millions, they would do it. Would they sacrifice one of their own to begin the narrative to justify the status quo?

Internal divisions at work?

That was why he was here. A dozen Dead Cell operatives maintained ongoing operations primarily for observation. India was the chip in the Triumvirate armor – less organized, less secure, and enmeshed in the Triumvirate. They'd only been elevated to deal with the Middle East, and were in a constant race for acceptance that Isaiah doubted would ever be granted.

Not truly.

Physical evidence was not something that would help him, it wouldn't give answers he wanted. This was not a false flag in the traditional sense, but he couldn't help but think that the timing was suspicious. Just after they'd agreed to not give the Triumvirate bait by continuing operations, something like this happened. Not even the Traveler would speak against measures or investigations against it.

If there was a conspiracy here, it would be hidden in the context just before the event.

Which was what he was interested in.

He'd spent his days in run-down bars, high-profile strip clubs, the bustling chaos of Dalal Street, and meeting with the small clique of contacts whom he trusted. From soldiers, to administration officials, to police, to intelligence agents. Some knew who he really was, others did not.

Gossip, rumor, and secrets were the currencies he sought, ones which he traded for information, money, or gifts of his own. The shadow economy the Resistance had mastered came in handy, and this particular outing had proven to be a fairly expensive one, especially for a mission that few would view as necessary.

In his small hideout in a shantytown on the outskirts of New Delhi, he stood in front of his desk of operations. A collection of documents, photos, and artifacts was scattered on it, accompanying a pinboard on the wall, which was covered in scribbled notes. His pinboards were slightly more organized than the ones portrayed in American spy movies, but the overall purpose was still the same.

"[You are enjoying this.]"

Sagira appeared with a blue burst in front of him, which told him he'd been thinking it over for a noticeable amount of time. She had a different shell now, forgoing the star-like shape in favor of something smaller and more ornate. The eye was still the centerpiece, but she had modified the fins to be narrower, sharper, and smaller. Floating now, she reminded him more of a piece of jewelry than a machine.

The only reason she had done that was to be less conspicuously present in his excursions. She could wrap his shell tightly around his arm, forming a kind of armband. It definitely wasn't an obvious machine, and no one he'd spoken to had really seemed suspicious of it (though there had been some comments).

She wasn't especially a fan of doing it, and preferred to hover normally, but she could manage when they went out – and, more importantly, she could provide her own analysis and input. She'd been helpful, and her scanners had proven invaluable during some of the more illegal parts of the investigation.

"[Enjoying may be a stretch,]" he said, answering her statement.

"[Is it?]"

He pursed his lips. "[I tend to enjoy solving problems that are based in something tangible – and which don't lead to more questions than answers.]"

"[And you've still not determined an answer?]"

"[Not one I'm satisfied with, no.]"

There were three pieces of information which were most useful to him.

One: the rumors that there had been tensions between Gopal and the rest of the Triumvirate. Isaiah didn't know how relevant this would be, in the end, it was hardly something unusual. The Americans and Chinese had been at each other's throats for some time, the Soviets liked playing all sides, and India obviously didn't like being treated like the odd one out.

That there was tension there was unsurprising. What made it a bit more noteworthy was that, ever since the Traveler had appeared, the Triumvirate had been working to put up a united front – publicly and privately. It was common knowledge at this point that Clovis Bray was the driving force – he'd made a name for himself pursuing intra-Triumvirate reconciliation, and had entered into office with a focus on ending the infighting.

The arrival of the Traveler had been a massive boon for him.

With that context, tensions between Gopal and one or more members was a little more unusual, but, then again…was it? It was a genuine intelligence gap they had, and, for all he knew, there was tension everywhere, as they couldn't have had the same idea of what to do when Terra One had returned, could they?

Still, the rumors ranged from Gopal being upset that the Republic was being overlooked (plausible), to actively alienating certain heads of state of the Triumvirate (risky, but also plausible), to privately breaking with them, and threatening to go rogue over the Traveler situation (unlikely).

If – and that was a big if – Gopal had privately decided to go against whatever the Triumvirate's plan was, it was entirely possible he would have been considered a loose end. If something happened to him in that scenario, it could be justified.

Second piece of information: the Triumvirate had known that there was something coming. That on its own wasn't surprising – it was impossible to keep everything hidden from the Triumvirate, intentionally or otherwise. Considering the operation, though, it was very valuable.

The frustrating thing was that he didn't know what they'd known – according to his intelligence contact, all they'd known was that there was a 'major operation' planned. Not exactly a groundbreaking or damning prediction. The smoking gun, in his eyes, of foul play – would be if the Triumvirate had evidence of the attack, and had intentionally let it happen.

However, the worst that he'd heard was that the Triumvirate had known that there was an attack on a 'major Indian figure' happening within a few weeks – Isaiah had not heard a single insinuation that anyone had known the exact details, methods, or even who the target was. The KGB in particular was notorious for taking forever to act on intelligence they were unsure about – which meant that, by the time they found confirmation, the intelligence was either outdated or irrelevant.

Of course, Isaiah could respect the professionalism, but, in reality, the only reason that attitude had developed was because mistakes had led to some PR disasters and gotten agents killed, assets purged, and damage suffered – leading to those who had overseen these failures to face the swift and lethal end of Soviet justice.

The one thing – the only thing that gave him pause was the last piece of information.

Everyone but India had known about a 'major operation' ahead of time. Supposedly, it had been either the Chinese or Soviets who'd had the most accurate intelligence, according to both a military and an intel contact, but none of them had passed it along. The justification was that they were verifying the intel, but, even still…

One would think that, if there was a chance something could happen, the territory in question should be informed, no?

It was far from damning evidence – but it was enough to tell him his feeling wasn't completely baseless.

He knew it was likely that there were some tensions between Gopal and the wider Triumvirate, that there had been intelligence that indicated the fatal attack, that India had likely not received it, and that the arrival of the Traveler threatened the existing Triumvirate power structure and global hegemony.

Question one: would the Triumvirate deliberately let a major attack happen to maintain their power? Yes.

Question two: was it possible that this was a coincidence, and the Triumvirate was simply planning to exploit the situation for their own benefit? Also yes.

Question three: was this wholly unrelated to the Traveler, and the actions of the Triumvirate to fully puppet India fully with a leader they considered reliable? Potentially.

Too much circumstantial evidence, too much hearsay, too little hard proof.

It was eerie.

It was no question if the Triumvirate was exploiting this – the question was if they had instigated it. Right now, especially now, it felt like the Resistance was being played. On the cusp of having to change, of having to face something which was beyond their power, they were struck by tragedy from a long-time enemy.

Now, the system had reason.

Ifif this was deliberate, the question then became who the mastermind was.

The answer seemed obvious. If this was deliberate, it was far too subtle for the Triumvirate. It was a level of deception and tact he somewhat admired. But just what had been the biggest change within the Triumvirate in the past six months?

Clovis Bray.

He'd marked Bray as dangerous from the moment his name had started popping up in consideration for the Soviet Central Committee. His rhetoric, accomplishments, and sheer drive made him atypical from the more standard Triumvirate heads of state. Still, master politician he may be, was Clovis this conniving and machiavellian?

Potentially.

He needed an answer.

"[It is frustrating,]" he finally said. "[I have the pieces, but none are solid enough to confirm my suspicion or solve the problem. I am missing something important.]"

"[If your suspicion is correct, it is likely that such will manifest itself again,]" Sagira said, floating up to him. "[Perhaps this is not something you are meant to solve now. I agree that it is suspicious, but, right now…there is no indication you are right.]"

"[From the others in the Triumvirate.]"

A bob. "[Yes.]"

"[I see,]" he pursed his lips and scribbled a small note on a paper scrap. "[You're right, you know.]"

"[About?]"

"[This. I enjoy it. Problem solving.]" Another scribbled note. "[I think it's why I've been good in this role. All operations are problems that can be solved. The perfect strategy isn't hard to determine, it's your resources and tools that limit how you solve it.]"

"[I may be wrong, but I suspect this inclination was not for warfare, was it?]"

"[No, it's a funny story,]" he said, deadpan. "[You know what I wanted to be before Australia? A scientist. Probably a physicist or chemist. Point was, I always wanted to know how things worked. People, machines, systems. But it was always the…]" he gestured vaguely around him. "[World, I suppose, that was the biggest mystery. There were still phenomena that had no answers, and many more mysteries of the world to discover.]"

A thin, sad smile played on his lips. "[Unfortunately, there is little practical use for such a dreamer in war. No, Sagira, I didn't ever want this, but perhaps it was who I was meant to be. The greatest 'problem' in the world is the Triumvirate, and, if my only act is to solve it, I will be satisfied.]"

"[I see,]" she said after a few moments. "[I wouldn't give up on your original dream – you may yet live in a world where you don't have to fight.]"

That thought amused him. "[Will I? We shall see. Even if it happens…]" he trailed off, and shrugged. "[A bridge to cross when it is relevant. Help me take images of all of this.]"

"[I can, but why?]"

"[Because we're leaving in a few hours. I've gotten everything I need to from here, and I saw a few too many KGB officers here for me to be comfortable.]"

"[Very well, though you do know I can always just teleport you back?]"

"[I'm aware, but better safe than sorry, Sagira. Let's not waste time, alright?]"


BRAYTECH FUTURESCAPE CONSTRUCTION SITE | MARS

It was somehow almost nostalgic to be back to Mars, only a few months after he had met the Traveler and everything had changed. The terraforming of the planet was fully complete, and the Triumvirate was wasting no time in industrializing it further. According to Clovis, it was primarily going to be used for some of the 'special' projects the Triumvirate was managing, one of which was a dedicated BrayTech facility, still in the early stages of construction.

Even though the facility was just a shell, Valentin could tell it was going to be a rather impressive design. He'd never been inside any BrayTech facility before, but he'd always liked how their buildings looked. Sleek, curved, very futuristic.

Triumvirate transport ships were docked near the site itself, and thousands of workers, architects, and engineers were crawling all over the site. It reminded him of the efforts to build Terra One, only on a Triumvirate-level scale. He also saw a few people with Ghosts around, which he was pleased by. Good to see that others besides him were actively being involved.

The sounds of construction were constant as they walked through the site. Buzzing, searing, banging, all typical of a construction project this massive. It wasn't exactly cleaned or organized, boxes of components and tools were strewn around, along with piles of boards, metal sheets, and beams in red-dusted packaging.

But all of that was normal here.

Today, he was here not just to see the construction of the first major off-world Triumvirate facility, but the unique mission it was undertaking. "[We're expecting the construction to take several months before completion,]" Clovis was saying as they walked. "[The outside isn't pretty, but there are already some small labs up and running in the interior. It's significant progress considering my last visit.]"

"[I'm looking forward to seeing them,]" Valentin nodded as Vigil hovered around his shoulder. "[Though, I'm afraid artificial intelligence isn't my forte.]"

Clovis chuckled – an expression that seemed genuine. Valentin was still unsure of if his friendly persona was real or just a well-done act. Maybe both, in some ways. "[Not to worry. I confess, it isn't mine either. Fortunately, one of the project leads will be there, and she'll be able to answer any questions you have.]"

Some light small talk took place as they trudged up the dusty steps; it was still somewhat surreal that he was regularly talking to the General Secretary of the Soviet Union – one of the most powerful men in the world. Of course, the cynical part said it was to get on the Traveler's good side, but the actions he was taking seemed real, even if it wasn't being done for the best of reasons.

Skeptical as he was, he couldn't deny that Clovis was being transparent about his decisions.

They stopped a few times on the way to the labs, with Clovis insisting on speaking to some of the people, usually some managers or site leads, who gave short updates, but also some of the workers, who looked surprised, but awed at personally meeting the General Secretary. Valentin could admit he could see why Clovis had the popular support he did. Genuine or no, he did have an affinity for being personable.

Deeper into the construction site they went, being careful to stay within the confines of the yellow construction tape. With the size of some of the equipment, Valentin was more than willing to stay away. He didn't want to lose a hand, or worse, by being curious, especially on a site this large.

He did wonder why they were building it on the edge of a cliff, though. It didn't seem to be the safest choice of location.

Clovis pushed some transparent wrap aside and they stepped into the singular part of the site that looked the BrayTech – a medium-sized computer lab with steady air conditioning, sleek white walls with FUTURESCAPE MINDLAB painted onto them, neatly organized rows of computers, and technicians sitting in front of them, completely focused on the tasks they were given.

It seemed like they were going to speak to the woman at the end of the room, the marked superior in the ever-sleek white and orange BrayTech uniform. "[Valentin, may I introduce you to Project Lead Ana Bray.]"

Valentin resisted his eyebrows shooting up at the mention. Ana Bray, the General Secretary's other daughter. He wasn't really surprised that a Bray was involved in a project like this – BrayTech was literally run by them – but it was interesting that both of Clovis' daughters were in pretty prominent roles.

Nepotism? Or were they actually qualified?

Ana Bray was remarkably young for a senior position though – she definitely wasn't much older than Valentin, if at all. She was shorter than he was by a good few centimeters, had relatively short cropped hair (fairly atypical for Soviet women – that was more of an American thing), and lightly tanned skin on a face which had distinctly Asian features, also very atypical, until he remembered that Clovis was married to a Chinese immigrant. The family resemblance was definitely not apparent.

Still, she smiled widely as he approached and eagerly shook his hand. "[Hello there! I'm happy to actually meet you in person! I've heard so much.]"

Oh, a fan. Wonderful. She did seem genuinely friendly though. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he could immediately tell that it was a bit different from Clovis' friendliness. He returned the smile, a guarded one, as he shook the hand. "[Happy to be here – Clovis tells me that you're working on one of the more important projects – you're in charge of it?]"

"[In charge?]" She laughed brightly. "[Not of the whole thing. I'm only project lead on one part of it. How much did he explain?]" She glanced inquisitively at Clovis.

"[None,]" the General Secretary answered mischievously. "[I thought it best if you explained it – it would have prompted a volley of questions I'm frankly unprepared to answer.]"

"[Father,]" she chided with a sigh, and ran a hand through her hair. "[In that case, I'm part of the Warmind Project, a fairly new initiative that – in the broadest terms – seeks to modernize and centralize everything, in regards to our defenses, military, and research.]"

"[Warmind?]" Valentin and Vigil asked simultaneously.

"[Yes,]" Ana nodded vigorously. "[That is what we are calling them. It's the biggest artificial intelligence project in the Triumvirate's history.]"

Valentin noded. "[Something like… White Hand?]"

Ana pursed her lips. Then she looked up. "[That's what most people think, but it's not what we're after. White Hand, the American Defense Intelligence… they're all primitive AIs, barely worth the name. A bit of symbolic logic and a big database, just an expert system. You were a cosmonaut, yes? You'll know Dasha. Have probably worked with some computers you were told contained artificial neural networks.]"

Valentin nodded his assent. Every cosmonaut knew Dasha, the "robot doctor".

"[We are not interested in something of that level,]" Ana continued. "[There's not even real...reasoning there. Each Warmind, on the other hand, will be a self-iterating superintelligence, a true general intelligence that can solve any problem a human can - and do it faster and better than a million humans could hope to.]"

Valentin nodded along. "[So more like Guardian?]"

Ana sighed. "[And this is why I hate pop culture. It gives people the wrong impressions about AI. None of the Warminds will have a personality like you or me - or Vigil, here - would define it. They will be task-focused minds. They will protect us, but they won't feel love or hate or disgust or...emotions like what we feel, and they won't be… people. That is also why we call them Warminds.]"

Valentin gave a small nod. "[That sounds a lot more complex than I first thought. It will probably take a long time, right?]"

"[Yes, even with all of the methods, data, and technology the Traveler has shared, it will take years, maybe decades to bring them to the final iteration,]" Ana gave a small shrug. "[But we don't have to build Rome in one day. We'll be building the Warminds step by step, training them at each point. We'll keep the instances that deliver the results we want, and discard those that don't. Even though we will go through millions of different iterations before we reach Phase 2, once we have the foundations, the Warminds can build themselves. We'll just help along and educate and train them as they grow into the roles we seeded into them in that early phase.]"

Ana gestured at herself. "[I'm the Rasputin Warmind project lead, so to give a brief overview of what this Warmind is intended to do, Rasputin will optimize our overall strategy in any war or potential war we face,]" her eyes focused on Vigil. "[Relevant to us is this 'Darkness' threat – the idea of Rasputin was the inception for the Warmind Project, and ultimately the most important one that will be developed.]"

"[Ah, so this is to prepare for the Darkness. The Traveler will approve,]" Vigil bobbed in the air.

"[All of the Warminds have a defensive military component,]" Ana nodded. "[Warmind Washington is focused purely on defensive optimization, Warmind Mao is focused on offensive counterattacks, Warmind Gandhi on insurgency and counter-insurgency, and Warmind Monroe on logistics and communication – Rasputin is the one that ties all of those together into one cohesive grand strategy.]"

"[You're doing five Warminds here?]" He asked.

"[No, no,]" she quickly refuted. "[BrayTech is only managing Rasputin. The Confederation is managing Washington and Monroe – Washington by DARPA and Monroe as a joint American Intelligence Community project. The Communist Empire is handling Mao – primarily a military project. India is handling Gandhi, and there are a number of private and state groups working on it.]"

That made sense, if the names hadn't already been a clue. Seemed like a smart strategy. "[I'll give you a little tour, and explain a bit more how the process works,]" Ana said, waving to follow as they exited the lab, and back to the construction site exterior.

"[So, to give an example of how we're training Rasputin, we're in the process of turning vast quantities of military and strategic data into something to feed into him,]" Ana continued. "[We're starting with small battles now, small-scale actions. Victories, defeats, everything relevant from earliest history to the Australian Conflict. What we want is for him to identify the optimal decisions based on the data. Once he has a grasp of that, we'll slowly start expanding to larger scenarios.]"

"[Doesn't that make the Mao Warmind redundant?]" Valentin asked. "[Or the Washington one for that matter?]"

"[I can see how you'd ask that, but no,]" Ana said. "[The Warminds are designed to be distributed by nature, and each carry some redundancy for each other. Rasputin is… the dreamer. The schemer you could call him as well. He's meant to think big and wide, to evaluate every dusty little branch of the probability tree. Civilizational survival strategy. Why should we attack there, why is it prudent that we hold back here. So, in a hypothetical scenario, let's say Rasputin said we should achieve this goal, he gives us the justification, and it seems good. You following me?]"

Valentin nodded and she continued at a brisk speaking space. "[Now that we have a goal, we turn that over to Mao. Mao would plot the actual executive strategies and decisions for that particular conflict. It figures out how to fulfill the objectives Rasputin outlines, with what resources and technology. Now, there seems to be overlap - after all, Rasputin has to understand resources and technologies and the realities of military conflict as well. But this approach makes system design much more manageable. We'll train each warmind in their domain first, then converge them into a coherent group. We fear that, if we tried this with one mind, the result may be an incoherent mess.]"

"[That makes sense,]" Valentin said with a nod.

"[Did you consider making the Mao Warmind a sub-mind of Rasputin?]" Vigil asked.

"[For a time, but we rejected it,]" Ana said. "[As I said, building one mind of that size was judged to have too great a failure risk. With the separate minds we can develop in parallel, and it introduces further redundancy. Once the Warminds have been up for a while, they will be able to compensate for the loss of any one of them. Besides, we have the resources and time, so this was the direction we went.]"

She coughed as a brief burst of dust blew into them. "[Back to my hypothetical, Rasputin could also identify a place that is likely to be attacked, or is uniquely vulnerable. This would then be taken over by Washington who would identify the specific weaknesses and how to fix them, in a similar vein to Mao. Again, grand strategy versus tactical when comparing Rasputin to Mao and Washington.]"

"[With Monroe as support,]" Valentin finished.

"[Exactly,]" Ana nodded.

"[And Gandhi?]" Vigil floated slightly in front of them as they reached a catwalk into a massive unfinished structure above a ravine – Valentin was deliberately not looking down. "[Its mission seems distinctly separate from this. Rarely does one encounter insurgency against the Darkness – not in the sense your people are familiar with.]"

"[Contingency, and because we're still dealing with terrorists,]" Ana sighed. "[Had a lot of debate over that one. Domestic issues are outside of Rasputin's core mandate, and I'm not comfortable putting too much onto the plate of one viewpoint. Doesn't mesh as well. Gandhi was the stopgap solution. The assassination of President Gopal was the last straw. If we're having heads of state assassinated, then terrorism is still a danger, one we need to make sure doesn't happen. Even if it doesn't stop terrorism entirely, it should at least prevent something similiar from happening again.]"

Made sense, even if Valentin was wary of exactly how that would be utilized. He didn't really have a good reason not to do it, considering what had happened. Irrespective of the Triumvirate's issues, terrorism was worse. "[Where are we going?]" He asked.

"[To what will one day be the Rasputin Core,]" she said as they entered the shell of the diamond superstructure. "[One of them, anyway. We're planning to have multiple cores throughout the system, so, in case one goes down, it's not the end. Rasputin will be able to spin up his core processes at another site. Given how dangerous this Darkness is, we can't be too careful.]"

"[You really can't,]" Vigil agreed.

The sheer size of the structure was awe-inspiring, even in its unfinished state. It was vast, if hollow, and the size of the machines and people in comparison really showcased how impressive the endeavor was. Ana seemed to notice. "[It'll be more impressive once it's finished. Imagine this space filled with computer racks. We're thinking of a proper representation of the grand scale of Rasputin somewhere in the center. An interface location if you want.]"

Valentin looked to Vigil. "[Has the Traveler used artificial intelligence like this before?]"

The fins of the Ghost spun as it floated out over the catwalk and hollow ravine below. "[Usually not on this scale; She is… wary of such synthetic intelligences. They are prone to failures and hostile divergences - and vulnerable to the Darkness. A machine can only channel paracausality, it cannot be paracausal itself. It is at an inherent disadvantage against something like the Darkness.]"

"[In combat, sure,]" Ana shrugged. "[For making decisions? It's an advantage. We have small brains and limited bandwidth - the Warminds won't. They can think faster, about more things with more knowledge, and will be more objective than we ever are. As long as we don't become over-reliant on the Warminds, this can only help us.]"

"[She has...experienced the cost of overreliance on advanced technologies such as these,]" Vigil said. "[There was a species - the Ecumene Collective. They were masters of machines, and had shining fleets and automata that managed their society. They faced the Darkness, and, despite their power, the Darkness soon identified the hearts of their martial matrix and attacked. The machine minds had no defences like the Lightbearers. The Ecumene were scattered and left leaderless from their reliance on their technology, and were wiped out.]"

"[Really?]" Ana asked, her eyes lighting up. "[Uh...not to derail the conversation too much, but I'd really like to know more about these Ecumene. If you can share that, obviously.]"

"[I'd be happy to,]" Vigil's fins clicked and the single eye flashed. "[There are so many unique species and stories to share about those who have worked and fought with the Traveler.]

"[Great! Well, I'll wait until we're done. Dad, you want to stick around afterwards?]"

Clovis smiled. "[Well, I do not think I can stay for much longer - the duties of my role require my attention, but I confess to being interested in such a people and conflict.]"

"[Then that's what we'll do then,]" Valentin said. "[Once we're finished here, obviously.]"

"[Indeed. Irrespective of it all, this is an impressive endeavor, in any case,]" Vigil said. "[One we should keep updated on, Valentin.]"

"[Agreed,]" Valentin said. This had the potential to be one of the most important projects against the Darkness.

It fell to him to ensure that it was used in that way.


RESISTANCE HEADQUARTERS | TEL AVIV | ISRAEL

Hamaza wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "Africa?"

"Africa," Liberman said dryly with a nod, putting a file down on the table. "The Triumvirate is making their move now, it seems."

"Arrogant bastards," Arya muttered. "Only a matter of time. Traveler's emboldened them to finish their assimilation."

"Which is why we have to stop it," Liberman said. "Africa is the only continent that is outside their sphere of influence, and only because they've been preoccupied with other things. The Triumvirate isn't going to invade now – not with the Traveler watching closely – but they will be applying economic influence."

"Africa has a significant number of militias," Amjah said thoughtfully. "None of whom are fond of the Triumvirate. A Quds African branch is feasible, and armed resistance is the only thing which is going to make them reconsider."

"Pause for a moment," Isaiah interrupted, pushing himself off the wall and moving to the group. "I want to hear the official line."

"Same as you'd expect," Liberman shrugged. "To establish a 'mutually beneficial agreement' and work to 'invest in the future of Africa'. PR propaganda. The Chinese have been making low-level inroads for years, but the Soviets are planning to go all-in on Morocco, Algeria, and Libya."

"And it's not token foreign contributions," Arya added. "MI6 got ahold of several documents passed by the Soviet state media. It's going to be a big event. We're talking billions of dollars invested. Bray Incorporated is planning to open three dozen plants across the three nations. This is an economic takeover in all but name."

"An invasion without soldiers," Liberman's voice was impressed. "And with all of the nations suffering badly, this will not only save them, but elevate them far above their peers."

"And it's only the beginning," Arya said grimly. "Economy is the first part. They'll start moving to defense cooperation. There will be Soviet-trained officers, Soviet-trained engineers, Soviet-trained law enforcement. This isn't limited to the Soviets either – there's rumblings that a large number of American corporations are going to be investing heavily in various African countries over the next six months. South Africa, Liberia, and other Confederation-friendly countries. There are rumors President Quinn is going to make it a national priority."

All bad news. Hamaza had a very bad feeling about all of it. "And what should we do about it? Attacking humanitarian projects will reflect badly on us."

"Obviously, we leave the Africans out of it," Liberman said. " There are some big names planning to make their debut. People in high places within the Soviet, American, and Chinese regimes. It gives us opportunities to assassinate, infiltrate, and sabotage. If the Triumvirate is foolish enough to expose themselves like this, then we should exploit it."

"Are all of you actually thinking about this?" Isaiah interrupted, his eyes flashing. "Have none of you considered that this is bait?"

"Of course it's bait," Liberman snorted. "They are daring us to stop them. They believe we will be cowed because we are afraid of offending their new celestial patron. I have no doubt this is intentional and planned, Osiris. In the end, it does not matter. Our options are these: we do nothing and the Triumvirate absorbs the last continent on Earth, or we attempt to limit them and justify the Triumvirate's fear."

Liberman's tone turned hard. "It is Africa today. Tomorrow it will be Israel. It will be Canada. It will be the United Kingdom. I will not coddle the Triumvirate as they lay the groundwork for their peaceful takeover of my nation. What good is resistance if we do not resist?"

"Because this isn't the same situation we were in a few months ago," Isaiah shot back. "The power is the Traveler, and the Triumvirate knows they can't do anything unless She approves it. It's obvious pandering, and with each attack, the Triumvirate can continue their justification for the status quo." He shook his head. "It's a catch-22 we're in, but I agree that we can't do nothing."

"There is no equivalence," Arya said. "If the Traveler cannot understand why the Triumvirate must be destroyed, then she is an idiot and we should dismiss what matters. Either she is smart enough to understand the context, or she is against us and we are doomed."

"And what are you planning?" Sagira blinked into existence. "How does hurting these people help your cause?"

"We're not going to hurt the Africans," Liberman said.

"You said that they are poor and desperate, and the Triumvirate investment would help them," Sagira countered. "How would that not hurt them?"

Liberman frowned. "If you sincerely believe that this investment is in the best interest of these nations, you are naïve. With a single stroke, the Soviet Union will supplement domestic industries and communities because they are better organized, funded, and supported. The nations will be incapable of self-sufficiency. How receptive do you believe they will be to Triumvirate demands when their countries are wholly dependent on them for survival? The investment is a trap – the Soviets are operating from a position of strength and they know it."

"But the people would nonetheless be helped," Sagira pointed out. "Can you blame them for accepting, even if it is not in their best interests in the long term?"

"No, but that, ultimately, is not the point," Liberman said. "There are only so many ways the Triumvirate can be hurt. There are few places where their influence is limited. If those places are lost, it is over forever. There are opportunities to take. If we do not, then we might as well surrender forever – and that is something I can never support."

Isaiah didn't look happy, but he gave a slight nod. "I agree. But I have another idea."

"Go ahead."

"We do what the Triumvirate is doing," Isaiah said. "Approach their leaders. Make our case. We have military experts of our own. Arya, MI6 has compromised industries and companies worldwide who could invest in nations. They are Triumvirate-based, yes, but it is not state directed. We have smuggling rings to bring in food, supplies, electronics. Ryan, you have Catholic resources, and the church has a scholarship program, yes?"

The priest gave a short nod. "It does."

"I guarantee that these nations know the dangers of accepting the Triumvirate's help," Isaiah said. "But they see themselves as having no choice. They have no alternative – and we can give them one. It's not as good, not as strong, and won't help as many – but it's something they didn't have before."

Hamaza nodded approvingly. "I do believe that is an appropriate response. One that resists, without justifying the Triumvirate's abuses."

Liberman seemed to consider. "Expenditures to support an entire country would be…vast, but perhaps necessary. I will need to confer with the Prime Minister. The idea has merit, but…"

"If we all leverage what we can, it could be done," Arya spoke up, to Hamaza's surprise. "More importantly – we will have a nation allied to us in a sense. One that is, at least, not hostile. Israel and the United Kingdom alone are not enough. The only reason more did not resist was the threat of nuclear annihilation and invasion. The Traveler has removed that concern. We can make a stronger pitch now that their survival is not on the line."

Liberman nodded once. "A fair point."

"The question, of course, is how we do this," Isaiah mused.

Hamaza smiled. "I may just have an idea – one which is sure to infuriate the Triumvirate."


ZHONGNANHAI | BEIJING | CHINESE COMMUNIST EMPIRE

To say Fang was nervous was an understatement.

No one, certainly not a mere Taikonaut, would ever publicly question a decision the Politburo or the Party was making. Even the highest of Chinese society would refrain from public critique. No one critiqued or questioned the Party here, not if they wished a carefree life for themselves or loved ones.

And that, Fang knew, was a problem. A problem that no one wanted to face, and, until someone did, it would remain in perpetuity. This was technically not as dangerous – the rule in question had not yet been approved – but it was merely ceremony. Legislation did not happen like it did in America. When it was written, it was merely a few rubber stamps away from becoming law, with the Party only maintaining a thin veneer of a 'democratic' process.

Which was not to say the process didn't have its merits. It certainly cut out the red tape and partisanship that plagued democracies, but there were instances where it very much was not ideal, and now was one of those times.

The Party had wasted no time in responding to the assassination of Gopal. While the uproar had been muted from the public – many of whom already saw India as unstable, and, more to the point, didn't like Gopal to begin with, the Politburo and Party had immediately condemned the attack, and highlighted that measures which needed to be considered for the "safety of the Imperial citizenry".

President Li had appeared on state media for a full week, as he showed off the aftermath of the attack and ways in which the current security legislation was inadequate had been an illuminating experience to document just how extensive the Chinese surveillance apparatus truly was. Fang had known it was extensive, but the research he'd done (some of which was through…mildly illegal sources) showed just how deep it went.

Fang was mildly annoyed that none of the many news anchors had actually pushed back, especially since the President's arguments had largely centered around hypotheticals and the most out-there examples of potential vulnerabilities. Fang's "favorite" one was the idea of a Pakistani suicide bomber who pretended to be pregnant while using a bomb as a mock womb to be used against a daycare. That situation was so mind-bogglingly ridiculous and hilarious that he was surprised no one had laughed when he'd said it – all to justify more invasive searches on pregnant women in airports and checkpoints.

Of all the things China needed to worry about, Fang suspected that wasn't one of them.

And it was far from the only proposal. Some were ridiculous, but others were more insidious. One that especially unnerved him was the expansion of the "neighborhood watch" system, which encouraged citizens to report on each other. It was rather limited, and only promoted in areas where there was high crime. The legislation would expand and promote the program nationwide, and Fang could only see that going poorly.

His sister had outright admitted that a majority of tips they'd gotten from it were useless, but they were required to investigate each one. Applied to a national scale, it would be chaos, make everyone suspicious of each other, and, more than likely, convict some wholly innocent people.

Not worth it.

Today was the last day for arguments or Party members to give their support or dissent for the legislation. Three days had been devoted to it, and Fang had been lucky to get in on the last day. Normally, it was reserved for Party-approved experts and senior members, but, thanks to his unique situation, he had also qualified.

It was packed with Party members and state (and some foreign) media, which dutifully broadcast the proceedings. It followed a similar script – the person would stand before the attending Politburo, focus on a specific part of the legislation, praise it profusely, and state how this was what China needed to keep safe. Cue applause and the individual would sit back down, looking way too pleased with themselves.

It was amazing how much these people could say without saying anything at all. It was grandiose, ponderously eloquent, and made everything five times longer than it needed to be. It wouldn't have been bad if it was at least interesting, but Fang swore that every single speech followed the exact same format.

No wonder no one paid attention to government if it was like this. Not only was it pompous and borderline incomprehensible, it was just boring. Literally no one spoke like these people did. Nevertheless, he was occasionally checking the viewing numbers, which were in the millions.

For better or worse, he was the reason. The press had gotten word of his attendance, and had promoted it gleefully. It seemed likely the Party was expecting his endorsement – it would be very powerful, coming from him. The funny thing was he hadn't ever indicated that's what he was going to do, it was just something…assumed.

If he did it, he was sure he and his family would be very rewarded for it.

It would be a lot easier to just accept that the measures were necessary.

But something needed to change. If not him, then who?

"[Fang Sov.]"

His cue.

"[Tell them the truth,]" Shadow hovered at his shoulder, highly conspicuous throughout the entire event. He definitely felt a little more safe with the little machine around. "[You can do it.]"

He could, but it certainly wasn't an easy thing.

He walked to the podium as the Politburo looked down on him in the auditorium. He could hear the cameras snapping as the news crews eyeballed him, and there was some excitement in the room for the first time in this long, dull affair. Previously distracted or sleepy attendees were alert, eyes glued to the young Taikonaut.

Fang's tongue briefly caught in his throat, but he pushed through it. "[Honored members of the Politburo, Central Committee attendees, and members of the Communist Party, I am privileged to be speaking before you today, and to add my contribution to this ongoing debate on the safety of our nation.]"

A standard opening – one which, nonetheless, generated some applause. "[I have been carefully listening to the arguments surrounding this security legislation – legislation which would go further than any existing measures, in response to the tragic events surrounding President Gopal's assassination.]"

He bowed his head, a brief moment of silence. "[There have been many statements that have been compelling, and testimonies thought-provoking. However, I have come to the conclusion that this security legislation put forward is not only unnecessary, but actively damaging to the safety of the Communist Empire.]"

There was an uncharacteristic breakout of murmurings behind him. Fang idly wondered at their expressions. The Politburo itself had mixed reactions, a couple showing surprise at his blunt approach. "[I will briefly explain my reasoning,]" Fang swallowed, then continued. "[While tragic, it is first worth noting that the attack took place in India – not China. China has not experienced a major terrorist attack in almost a decade – thanks to the efforts of the Central Committee to smartly curb flaws in the previous legislation. Since then, our nation has been one of the most secure in the world. To the Party, I must ask, for what reason are we altering measures that have already been succeeding by every objective metric?]"

Oh yes, he definitely had the attention of everyone. The Politburo were all staring at him, their faces hard and expressionless. "[While I do not mean to draw comparisons of tragedy, we did not alter our measures when the Vice President of the Confederation was assassinated years ago, and today should be no different. If anything, we stand as proof that our measures are working as necessary, thanks to the men and women who work tirelessly to keep the Empire safe.]"

He briefly paused. "[It is, of course, more than that. With this legislation, we tell the world that we give into fear. We say to our people that none can be trusted – in fact, our citizens are encouraged to spy on one another, and shatter the brotherhood of our people. The Empire cannot be brought down by an outside force, but this plants the seeds for our downfall from within. Honored members of the Party, I must ask how this is in the best interests of the Empire, or our safety?]"

Almost done, he just had to keep going a bit longer. "[We have avoided the worst of these terrorists because we have won. There is no need to combat an enemy which is so irrelevant it is defeated. Today, what we debate is not if our nation is safe, it is not if more restrictions need to be imposed, it is if we acknowledge that these terrorists pose a threat to us. Honored Politburo, if such is the case, they are not only a threat to the citizens of the Empire, but to the Party itself, and should not more expansive measures be taken? Yet, if these are paltry terrorists, why do we elevate vermin and give them the recognition they crave?]"

He rested a hand on the podium. "[I am not willing to concede that these terrorists pose a large enough threat to us that we potentially lay the groundwork of our own demise. If we do not stand strong in the face of danger, then we become clay for them to mold through violence. As they show – they do not even need to attack China for their actions to cause reverberations across the world. Is this the power we wish to give to the Grand Ayatollah and his Israeli puppetmasters who perpetuate networks of terror across the world? I say no, I reject this admission of defeat. I recommend that that the proposed security legislation be rejected, and we jointly announce our intention to denounce these terrorists, stand in support of the Indian Republic, and send a message to these terrorists that they will not frighten us into changing our way of life.]"

He bowed his head slightly. "[Honored Politburo, thank you for your consideration, and I yield my time to the Chairman.]"

"[Thank you, Fang Sov,]" the Chairman said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "[The chair accepts your yield.]"

Fang turned around, and faced the faces of the members, many of whom were looking up in awe over his speech. Some were clearly furious, but others seemed almost supportive. Was he going to get applause? For a few seconds, it didn't seem like he would, but then one clap started, and was joined by another.

The applause was nowhere near as intense as some of the others, probably about a third of the total attendees…but it was something, and something to be proud of. A few of the more disgusted members had turned their backs to him, but he'd done what he needed to, and the cameras were trained on his every move as he returned to take his seat.

I think that went well, he thought to his Ghost.

As did I. The media tried to cut the feed after the first line.

He raised an eyebrow. Tried?

Unfortunately for them, their machines are easy to compromise, the Ghost spun mischievously. It would do these people some good to accept some transparency.

Fang smiled at that. He was very curious to see what would happen next.

Hopefully, he wouldn't walk out of here and be shot dead.

He supposed he would find out just how the Party treated their enemies, and he suspected that, after defying the consensus of the Party so thoroughly, he had made some enemies.


OFFICE OF THE GENERAL SECRETARY | MOSCOW | SOVIET UNION

Things were proceeding exactly as expected and on-schedule.

The Black Armory was in full swing and would establish a true black site on Europa in the near future, the Warmind Project was up and running, with the blessing of the Traveler (or at least as much as was possible), research was proceeding at a rapid pace, and the coordinated push into Africa was commencing. All things considered, it had been a very effective few weeks.

All with the blind god none the wiser.

In fact, it was time for a little indulgent break. Though, for Clovis Bray, a break was focusing on something that was not 'mission-critical', something that had attracted his curiosity, though, in typical Bray fashion, always tied back to his work. Namely, the path the Traveler was taking on her little jaunt throughout the Solar System.

Mars, Europa, a few other moons he didn't care about the names of. Data for the moons was enlightening, and, as had been mentioned to him, it was less about terraforming and more about habitability. In the traditional sense, the moons were going to remain 'uninhabitable' – as in, they would remain floating rocks.

But even floating rocks had their uses. Hence the asteroid mining project. It promised an end to scarcity as the world knew it. The Americans and Chinese were stressing over how that was going to impact the markets, as it would effectively crash all precious metal markets, and Clovis was merely watching and enjoying the aftermath.

He had no desire for one particular economic system or another. Capitalism, Communism, it made little difference; each had their uses, and, if a new, better one appeared that swept away the old, he would happily move towards it. Economy was, after all, just a tool. Communism had helped the Soviet Union rise, and, when it failed, the Americans had bailed them out.

Of course, the Soviet Union and China could have turned their noses up at the offer, and refused to accept their failures, and they would have died. Fortunately, they had swallowed their pride, and, today, they were stronger than ever. It was a valuable lesson of history Clovis strove to emulate – when faced with a choice between adaptation or death, one must always choose adaptation.

People became far too attached to meaningless ideals and unimportant nuances. It became a part of their identities that blinded them to the shortcomings of the ideology or belief they espoused. Religion, ideology, economics, people had an obsession with defending what they were most familiar, comfortable with, or ideologically inspired by, without considering anything else.

It was impossible for such people to accept alternate arguments. It was impossible for them to accept criticism. It was impossible for them to change. And one day, that would destroy them.

The Traveler had been a similar test – evolution or death. If the Triumvirate was to survive, it needed to evolve – and, thus far, it was proceeding exactly as planned. In the end, if one wished to maintain power, one needed to make the necessary changes, sacrifices, and moves to do so.

The world changed, and those who did not change with it would be left behind.

And, until the Traveler was pacified, he would have to ensure the Triumvirate continued to adapt as necessary. He would face resistance, he would face those who were stubborn, and he would make enemies, each of which he would defeat and cast away. They were unimportant, he had the people he needed.

Everyone else was a piece on the chess board, a dancer on a stage that needed to be danced upon.

The question was where the Traveler would go next – all indications were that she was moving to another moon – Titan. What she was going to do there, he didn't know, but, unlike some of the other moons, this one had resources that could be exploited. Gases, mostly, but ones which had value, nonetheless.

How considerate of the Traveler to put an end to their scarcity.

It actually lined up quite well with her philosophy. The Traveler was an entity that wanted to make her followers want for nothing. It was to end the physical ailments she had doubtless seen before. Materials were effectively limitless in intelligent hands, and her path was clearing the way for Humanity to expand without limit.

He would not forget it. Maybe he'd make a statue for her when she was gone.

It would not do to not honor those who aided humanity in its ascension. A fountain of liquid gold, pouring from a cracked sphere broken by a human hand. Yes, that would be fitting.

Far in the future, of course. But he certainly wouldn't forget what the Traveler had done. For better and worse, she had changed the world – and would eventually solidify the Triumvirate in the annals of galactic power.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He briefly glanced at the time, trying to remember if there was a meeting. Ah, no, this was probably to do with the African expansion, negotiations which were ending today, news coming in. Not that he was really expecting anything significant – it wasn't as though there was any competition.

Bait of the most perfect kind, a trap laid most elegantly. The Grand Ayatollah's terrorists had probably chafed in fury when they'd learned what he was doing. One of two things would happen – they would try and strike, sullying their image and showing revealing to the world the terrorists they were, or they would do nothing, and the assimilation of Africa would be assured.

Many pieces of middling value had been moved – or what they would consider major value. The Economic Chairman, multiple Bray Incorporated Executives, people who had profiles which, if targeted, would be perceived as hurting the Triumvirate. But, just as Gopal was expendable, each and every one of them was also replaceable. He could always find an Economic Chairman, Bray Incorporated would always have no shortage of willing volunteers. A thousand such people in return for securing Triumvirate power forever?

A small, small price to pay.

And the bait would continue, he was ensuring it would. One day, even if it wasn't today, they would take it. He only needed one time, maybe two, and all would be as it should be. He smiled at the thought that they were unknowingly contributing to their inevitable demise. A shame they would likely never understand.

The door opened. Zarin Shirazi strode in, the chief Foreign Ambassador of the USSR, and one of his most trusted subordinates – not quite enough to be brought into the full fold – not yet, anyway. He wanted to see how she played her part first. "[General Secretary,]" she greeted, with a salute.

The daughter of Japanese immigrants to the Soviet Union, she had a unique perspective on foreigners that a lifelong Soviet family would not, and it had prompted her interest in foreign affairs, especially beyond the Triumvirate. She was an effective diplomat, fairly young, and very ambitious.

A bit of an idealist, but everyone had their vices. She also dabbled in Bray Incorporated, her family having a background in electronics. He was fairly sure her father was part of BrayTech. Smart woman, a valuable asset to any organization, and he awaited her news. "[Chief Ambassador, come on in. News?]"

"[Yes, I have news,]" her expression was oddly controlled. She wasn't the most expressive person, but usually she had a little more energy. "[Both Libya and Algeria have agreed to our outlined economic agreement.]"

"[Wonderful!]" He didn't fail to note the omission. "[Are the Moroccans being stubborn?]" They were always going to be the sticking point, they were a bit wealthier than the other countries due to their proximity to the Soviet Union, more prosperous, they conducted more trade. They perceived they had some leverage, in all likelihood.

Virulent anti-Soviet factions existed, which doubtless caused some problems, but, then again, what African nation didn't have some pent up resentment and jealousy towards the Triumvirate? She appraised him cautiously. "[Have you watched the news in the past couple hours, General Secretary?]"

He cocked his head. "[No, why?]"

She wordlessly handed him a document. Within it was a photograph.

His smile vanished.

He blinked.

He rubbed his eyes, drank from his cup of water, shuffled the paper and read it over again.

Still there.

What the actual fuck was this?

The picture was merely a snapshot of Moroccan Prime Minister Kadeen Achaari sitting in his office, and shaking hands with Grand Ayatollah Hamaza el-Hussein. "[This was distributed to media outlets approximately one hour ago,]" Zarin said grimly. "[I've been on the line with their foreign minister for the past half-hour. There was no indication this was a possibility. Media is holding off on this for now, and waiting until you decide how to handle it.]"

Clovis felt the urge to tear that photograph in half. Instead, he carefully set it down, his voice cold and stoic. "[There was a press release that went along with the photo, I presume?]"

She winced. "[Yes.]"

"[Well,]" he leaned back, his voice artificially light. "[Don't leave me in suspense.]"

She coughed. "[It was fairly lengthy, but the main thrust was along the lines of 'The Triumvirate and Soviet Union have for decades attempted to assimilate us into their empire, and they bully, threaten, and remove those who stand in the way. Today we reject the imperialism of the Triumvirate, and begin working to establish an economy and state free of their continued influence.' It was rather bombastic and defiant, especially for…Morocco.]"

"[Indeed it is,]" he said, more to himself.

So, this is the game you want to play?

It appeared someone in this 'Resistance' had a brain after all. But to take this direct of an approach? That was bold, even for the Grand Ayatollah. He knew that the Triumvirate was in a tough position, and could not act with the impunity it once had without consequence – and he'd also figured out that continued attacks would lessen the Traveler's support for his terrorist cause.

The Grand Ayatollah was declaring war and calling his bluff on the world stage. It was a challenge to intervene, and he'd reversed the trap Clovis had so carefully laid. If the Triumvirate retaliated, it would sully him in the eyes of the Traveler, and cause greater oversight - if he did nothing, there would be an anti-Triumvirate coalition that would inevitably form.

The latter was unacceptable, so it would seem they'd made a profound act. How deluded.

How droll, how utterly cornered and unexpected and dull of them. This was their grand plan? A little waltz on his stage? Their master plan was to try to outplay him at his own game?

Worthy of attention, worthy of being called clever, even. Adapt or die, and they'd adapted to his new board in the face of death. Perhaps the dogs weren't so starved after all, they could still use their minds. They could still rebel at the marionette strings.

Maybe they even thought they'd earned a reprieve, a chance at success.

No. No, they did not. It would not save them.

Not as things were.

Not against him.

Not against an ant monarch and his united court.

Unexpectedly, he smiled. Zarin eyed him carefully. A dangerous gleam had entered into the eye of the imposing General Secretary – a look she had only seen a few times in the years she'd known him, and when he had it, it generally meant he was going to do something dangerous and controversial.

The Grand Ayatollah was clever, but there was one slight problem with a challenge like this.

He was the director of a series of terror cells.

And terrorism? Well, one could hardly do nothing when such a person made an open alliance, now could they?

This was a bluff on all sides – Clovis sincerely doubted that the majority of the Resistance was in support of this new plan, they were too violent and foolish to do so. If this little jaunt ended up working? More would be convinced. If it failed, and they saw violence as the only solution?

Well, it was important that this stunt not only failed, but that it was crushed.

Completely and utterly.

It was time to remind the world who had the power – and it wasn't an Israeli puppet.

Remind them carefully, of course.

The Traveler would need to be handled, but he had a pitch that he believed would be sufficient.

"[Zarin, do tell Luka to meet me in my office immediately,]" Clovis ordered.

"[Yes sir! And what should I do about the media?]"

Clovis thought for a moment. "[We have a head of state meeting openly with a terrorist leader. Please ensure that fact is emphasized.]"

She nodded once, and quickly departed to fulfill the instructions. Clovis picked up the phone in his office. "[Put Commander Calumet on the line right now. We have a situation.]"


TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER XI | ANNEXATION