A Political Sickness — Chapter IV
Bridgehead City
With hands situated behind her, General Ardmore ambulated between floating holographic monitors, her eyes leaping between screens, searching like a predatory shark of Earth's past for the elusive Na'vi, whose own unwarranted aggression continues to inflict unnecessary delays for the RDA. Every day, the reports came to her, with such fascinating details as: Malfunctioning equipment; damaged bulldozers; harassment to their workers, and most interestingly among the details were employees finding arrows—massive arrows that hailed down from the sky, littering their quarry sites. As though to say, leave or face death.
She understood their anger, but their threats were no less anemic than their drive to attack the humans. They knew if they dared, then all their efforts to survive would vanish by the heat of the Hawkeye missiles. None the less, it was a respectable message that Ardmore politely declined.
Setting aside the fact that Ardmore saw the Na'vi as enemies of Humanity, she could not attack them. Not without reason and within the believed reason had to be provocation on part of the Na'vi. Which made it all the more strange for her; to have restraint against her adversaries. Especially since the Na'vi had Jake Sully who she knew very well was using this unofficial and uneasy armistice to strategize a way to attack Bridgehead.
The truth was, Ardmore had her hands tied behind her back. The executives back on Earth made it clear to her that she did not have permission to target the Na'vi, only Jake. Neither can she try and attack them if they were just watching from the very edges of RDA-claimed territory, taunting, and harassing their workers.
This was in response to Colonel Miles Quaritch, a bastard of a man that, according to Parker Selfridge, was willing to risk all the lives of Hell's Gate for some vendetta. Selfridge's statement provided to the RDA executives embarrassed them. They were no fans of the Na'vi any more than Quaritch was, but they were not in the business of slaughtering the indigenous population of Pandora.
Regardless of how she felt about their decisions, Ardmore obeyed, unlike Quaritch who defied the interest of his superiors that resulted in the deaths of very good people.
Breathing in the cool air of the Black Room, it was not all bad news. By focusing her complete attention on Jake, she allocated resources to finding him and eliminating him. Which was far-far easier said than done. He had the homefield advantage, coupled with the weird magnetic properties that continues to hinder an incursion team from going into the Hallelujah Mountains—where Jake resided in—and taking him out the old fashion way.
From the beginning, Ardmore was acutely aware about the magnetism of Pandora, including the Hallelujah Mountains, where the unusual vortex of magnetism in the mountains disrupted their vehicle instrument readings. This forced their entire fleet to use VFR, just to be able to see through the thick layer of fog that obscured the quiet mountains swimming in the veil.
To add the cherry on top of the cupcake of problems. Jake also has friends. Not in the form of the tall blue monkeys (who were problematic by themselves) but from the banshees who had a terrible habit of swarming their kestrels whenever the humans entered that particular region. And this was not a one-time deal either. It was every time. Be it from the air or ground. The banshees just knew, and they attacked without mercy.
She asked several xenobiologist that studied the fauna on Pandora to explain to her why the banshees were only attacking them whenever they entered the Hallelujah Mountains. The answers streamed out from their lips with invariable speed and guesses. None of them sounded satisfying to her. In the end, Ardmore chalked it up to Jake just being well liked by the animals there.
But Ardmore was relentless. Unlike Jake who had the advantage of animals and mountains, Ardmore had the advantage of an avatar.
Looking across the room to Charles Stringer who stood behind a viewscreen, she noticed that he kept to himself, only reading in silence from the tablet that cradled in his hands. He was pre-occupied with examining the peace treaty that Rayan Asher had sent them. Having read it herself from end-to-end, Ardmore concluded that the UNE was giving the Na'vi an advantage and the RDA a disadvantage.
Breathing out the coiled pressure from her lungs, Ardmore remembered reading about the Na'vi rights found inside the treaty. Bad enough that she could not go after the Na'vi, but the rights listed in the UNE? Might as well surrender to them right now.
Walking over to another monitor, she watched with an ice-cold glare of a live feed that showed the crown of the floating mountains submerging behind the horizon as the morning light drew into the early afternoon.
What are you doing, Jake? She asked herself.
"This Rayan Asher," said Charles Stringer, his finger tapping on the tablet. "He could be quite useful to us."
Ardmore remained silent. Her attention focused on the monitor.
"I mean… the UNE's treaty is quite something, just listen to this," he started to say. "That we, the Resources Development Administration, will have unfettered access to sites D, K, and F." He looked up to her, gauging her response as he continued to say, "Frances, those sites are literal goldmines. We've been eyeing them for the past three months but because of… y'know, the Na'vi, we just haven't been able to get to those sites."
He knew, like General Ardmore, on the rules with engaging the Na'vi and reading the peace treaty that was delivered to Rayan Asher ensured they could find a work around against that restriction.
"If-if we can get this treaty signed, then the Na'vi will have no choice but to relocate somewhere else, at least by a thousand miles away from any RDA operation. I mean, c'mon." He looked up to find Ardmore slowly turning to face him.
"The UNE is giving us a great deal, served on a silver platter!," Stringer argued. "Rayan needs to get the Na'vi to agree to this treaty and soon!"
"Did you read the entire treaty, Stringer?"
He shook his head. "No but we got time. It's not like Rayan can make this treaty happen in under forty-eight hours."
She smiled, amused by his tenacity to expediate the mining operations on Pandora. An admirable trait that contained blind spots.
"Scroll to where it discusses about Na'vi rights," she said, her finger making a motion for him to find it.
Taking her word, Stringer tapped on the tablet, scrolling through the contents of the peace treaty until he arrived at the title: Na'vi Rights
Taking in a deep breath, he read aloud, "Na'vi Rights. The rights of the indigenous population of Pandora share similar rights to Humanity of Earth…"
He started to read off the list. Ardmore watched his face as he went from ecstatic to dour in less than ten seconds.
"…chief among these rights include the right of self-preservation. If the Na'vi believe, with evident proof, that their way of life and their own lives are in threat of annihilation. Then they have full right to defend themselves through the use of force."
He cocked a brow, clearly baffled by that clause.
"That, Mr. Stringer, is vague politics." Ardmore said with a faded grin.
"So? We're not in the business to harm the Na'vi."
"You're right. We're not. But they are very much in the business of harming us. And what better way to do that than by targeting our quarry sites?"
Stringer started to piece together the picture that Ardmore drew. However, she wanted him to see more than just quarries and mines. She wanted him to see the whole canvas.
"Take this for example." She said. Reaching over to her right side, she pulled with her hand the viewscreen she had used to observe the Hallelujah Mountains and positioned it to face Stringer. On the viewscreen, she changed the screen until she saw that the live feed focused on a massive brown pit, one that Stringer immediately recognized as the Omatikaya's quarry site.
"This is the Omatikaya's former residence. Looks good, right? Well, there use to be a massive tree on top of it until Colonel Quaritch and his team blew it to hell. But thanks to his efforts, we are now digging underneath it to collect what belongs to us." She said, continuing. "The Na'vi—Jake's Na'vi—are quite upset by this fact. If that treaty gets signed, then what is going to happen is that they will start attacking our workers there, because the vagueness in the wording of that treaty declared that they have the right to defend their very livelihood. And what is their livelihood? Their home? They will declare that by mining on their former home, we in effect are destroying their very livelihood. And while we are putting out the fires, you will be delegating responsibility of offering terms of peace with our good friends. By which point, they will not stop until they get what they want. And you know exactly what they want, Mr. Stringer."
"But this treaty will get us clear access to those sites I mentioned before. And on top of that, we can force the Na'vi to abide by our terms of not coming close to any of our land."
She huffed. "Our land? You don't get it do you? We're on their land—well that is how they see it. And as long as they see it that way, they will do everything they can to push us off their land."
Stringer looked down to his tablet, scrolling through the Na'vi rights again, searching for some kind of loophole or exploit before surrendering his attention back to the General. She could see the wheels turning inside his head as he said, "then what do we do?"
She walked through the viewscreen, the image of the quarry site dissolving into her body as she approached Stringer. "Let Rayan Asher do what he needs to do with this treaty. We'll do what we need to do to ensure he doesn't backstab us. Because we're going to use him to get to Jake."
"How? Rayan is not some assassin. He's a diplomat. A government watch dog. There's no way we can use him against Jake. Even if—"
Ardmore continued to walk towards him, forcing Charles to step aside as she paused to see one of the monitors observing Eric Hurley and his team walking down the corridor and towards the Black Room. Turning her wrist over, the watch face relayed that they were ten minutes early.
"—even if we can somehow convince Rayan, I don't see a possible scenario where Rayan will agree to kill Jake. Besides, Frances, I have to bet all my horses on the treaty. They cannot attack us forever and those sites will set us up with a nice retirement pay. There's no way I'm letting the treaty go."
Ardmore pivoted around, catching Stringer straightening his tie for the upcoming meeting with Rayan Asher. She did not like the treaty, but she held no power to delegate agreements when Charles Stringer was the administrator of these operations.
"Just remember one thing Charles. If you want this treaty. Then be prepared to handle the consequences. I don't expect you to hide behind your desk when the shit hits the fan. As for Rayan and Jake. Easy. He won't have to touch a hair on Jake. But we'll use Rayan to force Jake to come to us."
"Okay… but how?" Stringer looked somewhat baffled.
She nodded. "Leave that to me, Charles. It's all been taken care of. All I need you to do is accept my demands that I will make with Mr. Asher.
"What demands are you going to make with him?"
"Safety measures," Ardmore said, her tone softening. "Safety measures."
"Excuse me ma'am. They're here," spoke one of the Black Room personnel.
"Let 'em in," Ardmore instructed.
"So why do they call it the Black Room?" Wade asked, standing behind Danielle as Dr. Eric Hurley presented an ID card to one of the Black Room personnel by the entrance of the facility.
"No one wants to stand around all day saying, 'Operational Surveillance and Intelligence facility'." Hurley said.
"Go ahead, Doctor." spoke one of the personnel workers.
"Thank you."
"Black Room sounds… villainy, could've just called it OSI?" Wade said, his voice shivering.
Danielle sighed. "Grow up, will you?"
"What? I'm just helping these guys find a more fitting acronym!"
Directed by another personnel worker in a business casual dress to the center of the facility, they walked across the aisle where they saw islands of computer stations, each housing numerous floating monitors that were observing different parts of Bridgehead, Hell's Gate, and the forests beyond RDA-occupied space. Asher could not begin to comprehend why exactly they needed this level of surveillance. It was as though no one trusted anyone here.
Bouncing between each monitor and viewscreen Asher came across, he could see Hell's Gate buzzing with activity, or the Bridgehead tarmac workers trying to bring a massive white container off a Valkyrie, all the while overhearing whispers about a situation that was breaking out at a mining site.
"They call it the Black Room because it doubles both as a SCIF, and well, because the biggest part of the facility is a literal black room that General Frances Ardmore uses to coordinate her missions with other SEC-OPS officers." Eric stated as he led the group through the aisle.
Numerous other employees made way for them, but their eyes could not hide the fact that trust towards Eric and his team was sensitive. Particularly that of Rayan Asher.
From the darkened interior of the black room, Ardmore approached them with a smile on her face and a wave to Eric and his team.
"It's good to see you all this mornin'," the General greeted. Her black boots squeaking along the perfectly clean tile floor. "I hope everyone had a filling breakfast."
Eric greeted. "Ma'am"
Wade also greeted in his way. "Hi! And yes I did."
Danielle chose to remain silent.
Asher greeted her as well, "Good morning ma'am."
"Excellent. Then, if you follow me, we can get this meeting started."
Trailing after her, Ardmore directed them with a finger to stand several feet away as she stood next to Charles Stringer.
"Mr. Asher, this is Charles Stringer, head administrator here on Pandora." Ardmore motioned to Charles Stringer who stood next to her.
To Asher, he looked like another office worker with that faint teal blazer adorning over the buttoned-down white shirt, and a black tie to make things… complete. If he had to guess it by the look of Stringer's hands, this man was never asked to pick up something heavy. Let alone know what a screwdriver is.
"Only met you for two minutes sir, but it is good to meet you again." Asher said.
"Likewise," Stringer greeted back.
Next, she waved to a worker, letting them know to begin the presentation as the center of the floor flickered with shooting lines of red, green, and blue lights, all coalescing together to form the image of an avatar's head, more specifically, Rayan Asher's avatar.
"Huh," Asher said unexpectedly.
The head began to rotate clockwise, giving everyone a chance to look at the avatar. Asher himself was unsure why they needed to see this when Ardmore stepped around the head to share her answer.
"As you can all see, this is Rayan Asher's avatar," Ardmore said, her gaze briefly studying the specimen before turning to the team.
Everyone on Eric's team had seen his avatar up close. Including Danielle and Wade who had to spend enormous amounts of time trying to prep the avatar for use. But seeing it as big as it was, with high-definition detail, gave additional insight into the avatar that neither of them knew before. Wade was already pointing in silence to the intricate details of the darkened stripes, while Danielle was discovering that the bioluminescence characteristics on the nose had three faint dots running perfectly parallel on either side of the nose.
Strange.
"This is the first avatar since the Program had been shut down. And with Dr. Hurley's help, Mr. Asher is now ready to use it." Ardmore paused to look at Asher as she continued, "And how has the avatar been treatin' you? Or… maybe I should say, how have you been treatin' the avatar Mr. Asher?"
Asher did not miss a beat. "Just a small issue of vomiting in the ambient room, ma'am."
Wade chuckled as he made a gesture with his hands, implying that it was a rather large volume of said vomit.
Shaking his head, Asher was not interested in divulging details about his first experience of being in an avatar. Other than simulations, which hardly prepared him, he had no idea what to expect. When he lied in the link bed, he thought he was going to go to sleep by how long it took to link up with the avatar.
Then, as the neurons in the avatar brain aligned up with his conscious mind, Asher closed his eyes, expecting to actually fall asleep when an electrical impulse shot through is consciousness, alerting him that something was wrong, like when he would fall asleep and felt as though he was falling from the sky.
Jolting back up, Asher flashed open his eyes, his heart thundering in anticipation of an attack. He looked about, finding himself in the clean ambient room. He made it. But then he started to agree with his former human self that this was not a good idea whatsoever. That must have been his fear talking or his senses talking. He dared to lift his arm and flex each finger. They were blue with dark stripes running around the arm. Now he was sensing it. The entire body. How blue it was. How alien it was.
That was where he started to feel sick.
Finding his footing on the floor, Asher could see in the reflective mirror, the white gown, the blue face, the fanged teeth, the long black hair, the longer hair that he was his queue. He had no idea what it did, but he left it alone. He was not himself. The elf-like ears, the feline nose, and the tail. Oh God, the tail. It was moving on its own! He tried to stop it, he thought really hard to stop it, but it swayed against his thoughts. That was when the room started to spin and before he could find a seat to sit back down, he was bent over, puking all the stuff the avatar absorbed through the amnio tank.
Collecting himself from the experience, Asher explained further, "Danielle gave the avatar a shot to quell the nausea, and afterwards, I felt good enough to test it out. I started by running around in it, exercised, and ate without any issue. She filled in the rest of what the avatar did and was capable of doing."
Danielle shared a look of thanks as she pushed up the frame of her glasses.
"That's great to hear, Mr. Asher," Ardmore said before continuing. "I assume to believe you shared with your team about your mission, is that correct?" The General asked, the brim of her eyes narrowly slicing across the air to Asher.
Asher rubbed the morning whiskers of his face when he nodded to the statement.
"Excellent. Before I greenlight this mission—" Ardmore tried to say before Asher jumped in.
"—ma'am, under the authority of the UNE I can do this without your permission."
She shook her head, finding that he still did not quite understand how procedures worked out here.
"That avatar," Ardmore said, pointing to the floating head next to her. "Is completely yours. The RDA only grew it. But that being said, the UNE did not buy our kestrel pilots, or the food, the water, the protection, or even the air you're breathing right now. They all belong to the RDA and as such they all fall under my protection. Including you."
This was not a battle he was going to win. Waiting for him to remain silent, the General continued and hoped that he did not jump ahead of any more conclusions.
"As I was saying. Before I greenlight this mission. I need you to agree to some of my demands regarding the use of the avatar and your mission. First and foremost is that you obey all, and I mean all RDA SEC-OPS officers instructions. Sidelining it to hop-skip and play pin the tail on the viperwolf will get your rights suspended from using your avatar."
Asher found that rule strange. Where else was he going to go with the avatar? He had only one job and he had no other plans to do anything else with it. However, he felt it was more to do with controlling what he did with the avatar than frolic in the forest.
"What if the instructions interfere with my mission goals?" Asher asked.
Ardmore shook her head. "They won't."
"What kind of guarant—"
"They won't," she sternly repeated.
Asher had to take her word for it but that did not mean he was satisfied with such an answer.
"Second," she lifted two fingers into the air. "You will not fraternize with the Na'vi. You will treat them as hostiles. No matter if they give you a heart-shaped cookie with your face on it. You are not to fraternize with them. Is that clear?"
"Hostiles, ma'am?" Asher questioned. That did not quite make sense to him. If he treats them as any other enemy, then attempting to make peace with the Na'vi was effectively pointless and so was his job.
But the General nodded, "hostiles," she repeated, stressing on the word.
He did not like that approach.
"Ma'am, you may treat them as hostiles as per your duty to protect the people of Pandora. But my job is to approach them with peaceful intentions, if—"
She held up her hands, palms facing towards him, "spare me the philosophical nonsense. The Na'vi will not treat you as a friend no matter how much you try to look like them. Expect them to shoot first and ask your corpse for questions later."
Asher's confusion was shared by Wade and Danielle but not by Eric who understood the Na'vi to be violent and ruthless. His own experience with them dated six months' earlier when they attempted to kill humans in space. The savages grew exponentially more violent under Jake and by denying the RDA an effective foothold on Pandora only agitated this opinion further.
Sighing, Asher nodded. He was going to have to figure something else out.
"Third," the General continued. "You write a report about your dealings with the Na'vi and have them delivered every single day to my office."
Asher vehemently shook his head.
"You will," she insisted.
"I cannot," he protested.
"Mr. Asher—" Eric interjected, hoping to offer some common sense to the man.
"Detailing about what I do with the Na'vi will only hinder my ability to do my job." Asher explained. "I know the RDA will use it for their own purposes, which will negate the objectivity of this mission entirely."
She threw a finger directly to Asher, "you will, or you will not use your avatar!"
The room became dead silent. General Ardmore's finger knife remained still as her gaze narrowed in on Asher's defiant expression. This was not the hill to die on.
Glancing to the floating avatar head. Asher knew he did not come all this way to follow the rules of some corporation. He knew how to protect himself, to ensure he did not interfere with the cultures of other people or befriend them in any way. That was how he kept a fresh eye on the matter, without being subjected to the opinions and rules of others. The only time he followed rules were for the safety of everyone and as far as he saw it, Ardmore was not interested in safety. Her demands were meant for him and him only.
Swallowing his pride, Asher conceded but wanted Ardmore to know his side of this deal. "Then the report will be minimal—neutral even. No conversations will be recorded. I will detail of what I can say without compromising anything of what the Na'vi have shared with me."
Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed as Ardmore retracted her hand and replaced her expression with a smile. Some exhales were also shared, relieved to find that this conversation did not escalate further.
Ardmore agreed. "Fair enough, and the last demand I will make," her hands snuck behind her back, folding them neatly. "If you backstab me, betray me, or give intel to the Na'vi that harms the good people of Bridgehead or Hell's Gate. I will personally see to it that your avatar is fucking destroyed, and you are cryofrozen until the next shipment of unobtanium is sent to Earth and that won't happen until…"
She looked over to Stringer who recognized that expression of hers.
"Two years from now," he answered.
"Is that understood Mr. Asher?"
He always knew the RDA had plans to make this job difficult. While Asher tried to maintain a sense of neutrality between these parties, they often went ahead and made it clear of their intentions, forcing Asher to make a judgement call long before anything was written. That was just human nature. He only wondered how the Na'vi would react to him next.
"Yes ma'am."
"Good, I'm giving the floor to the head administrator of RDA's civil-sector, Charles Stringer."
The floating head faded away as Stringer made a few steps to position himself in the middle of the semi-circle.
"As you all know, I'm the head admin of both Extra-Solar Colony Zero One and Bridgehead." Stringer said, his face soft as a baby's bottom. No one knew for sure if he had any experience, but they knew one thing: the next thirty minutes was going to be boring.
Towards the end of his big unimpressive speech, he finally turned to what mattered most.
"The Na'vi pose a considerable threat to our operations here on this moon. But I am not reliant on using violence to suppress them. With this treaty that the UNE have presented to the RDA. I am able and willing to throw my support behind Mr. Asher's endeavor to seek the Na'vi out and find a peaceful resolution to this war that the Na'vi have started."
Asher mentally wrote the last sentence to memory.
Stringer looked to Eric first then to Asher, as though seeking permission before saying, "Unless of course, as the General implied, you back stab us then well… you know."
Asher nodded, agreeing with the terms.
"Good," Stringer said. "You will hear from us shortly."
The General waved them on, "you're dismissed. Except for you—Ms. Ibarra. I need to discuss with you about the recoms."
"Hey! I won't tell you I told you so, but I told you so about you know what." Wade remarked as he passed Danielle on the way out. Danielle shook her head to his comment.
Asher looked to Danielle for a moment, studying her expression before following Wade out of the facility.
"Ma'am. About the recoms." Danielle started to say.
Ardmore remained quiet, waiting until the three had left for the exit before turning her attention to Danielle.
"Sorry for the diversion. I'm here to discuss about Rayan." Ardmore said.
"Ma'am?"
Her confusion made Ardmore hesitate.
"You know, his avatar. Was there any side effects to the shot you gave him?"
Danielle's expression weakened, her gaze fleeing from Ardmore before pulling back to answer her.
"No… no ma'am."
"Excellent. From what I understood, we will be able to pick up Asher's signal from the Hallelujah Mountains without trouble, is that correct?"
Danielle nodded. The nanites she had injected into the avatar, under the guise of suppressing his nausea, should have fused with the muscles of the avatar by now, preventing the avatar from secreting them out. Though whether or not they would be able to pick up the broadcasting signal, Danielle was not sure. But she was not about to say no. Her more concerning matter was to the Na'vi.
"Ma'am. I-uh."
"We're only after Jake." Ardmore assured her. "I promised you that. I have no interest in going to war with the Na'vi. We are here only for Jake. And once we have him, then your little Na'vi friends will be left alone. I imagine the Na'vi themselves want him gone just as much as we do?"
"Some do but—"
"Then let Rayan do his job. I need him to get close to Jake and from there we will take care of the rest. Don't you worry, Ms. Ibarra."
Danielle suddenly felt her throat dry as she tried to channel her courage to look up to Ardmore.
"Okay but you promised the Na'vi will not be harmed… is that right?"
Ardmore nodded. "I am a woman of my word."
Somehow, Danielle did not believe her, however she had little choice on the matter. If she refused to help Ardmore get Jake, then Ardmore was going to find a way to kill all the Na'vi in the Hallelujah Mountains. It was either him or the Na'vi.
"Thank you," she choked out.
"Go ahead and let Asher know that we have greenlit this mission."
Walking in, one by one, they noticed Spall napping over his desk.
"Well, that could've gone better." Asher noted as he lunged himself into an office chair.
"Yeah, kinda spooky. The way Ardmore chewed you out made me pee a little. Like—two drops came out, I swear." Wade commented as he jaunted over to his own desk.
"That is both too much information and disgusting, Wade." Eric grimaced as he walked over to his desk.
They were silent, their minds running over the meeting and how it could have gone differently. When the threat of sleep loomed over them, Danielle had entered into the room. She looked pale.
"All good there, Danny?" Wade asked.
She was deathly silent as she found her seat by her desk.
Puzzled, Wade swiveled in his chair to face her. "Danny?"
"Ye-yeah. All good." She said nervously. "I think that breakfast made my stomach upset."
"Aaah yeah. Those damn omelets. Deceiving to the eye!"
"Mr. Asher," Danielle coughed out. "The General has given you the greenlight for your mission. We'll proceed in the morning."
Eric smiled as he said to Asher, "You have a lot to pack up then."
Asher looked up from his chair, almost wishing he did not want to go but thanked Danielle anyways.
Raising a cup of cold coffee to Asher, Wade celebrated. "Looks like you're going into the jungle big-boy. Like that song, welcome to the jungle! We got guns and dames!"
The sleepy Spall stirred awake by the crude mutilation of one of his band's favorite songs, "it's 'we got fun and games', dickhead."
Wade shrugged, "eh I don't listen to classical musical all that much these days." He then leaned towards Asher, "I prefer plant music."
Asher shared a dumbfounded look with Wade. He honestly had no idea what he was talking about.
Wade then stood up, raising his Styrofoam cup to everyone. "Good luck to the three of us. Never been to Ticonderoga before. Hopefully they have better food."
"They don't," Spall bluntly added, his face still buried into his arms that sat over the desk.