The Communications Lounge aboard the Kraken was pleasantly busy that afternoon. There were many well dressed men and women going about their business remotely, contacting their posts through micro wormhole assisted transmissions and hyper bursts as they pored over prospect data on the Enreega System. It was a boom time.
The white and red booths and round tables filling the thickly carpeted space were the offices of the Regent Galactic Development and Product Deployment employees. They were the elite, the ones that generated the big projects, chased down the prospects that kept billions of peons in countless subsidiaries and contracted partners busy.
Few had the opportunity to mix in if they weren't among their number, to walk up to the bar and have a complimentary unrationed drink, or to stand and look through the transparent wall at the top of the Kraken and watch all those rescue and utility ships go about their business. It was a monarch's vista with a rich water planet in the distance and the wreckage of thousands of vessels scattered across the busiest area in the system. The pickings were ripe for those who knew how to best take advantage. Cities were just waiting to be rebuilt, there was a well trained displaced work force looking for new jobs, and those rescue ships would soon be filled with people wondering where they'd be sleeping.
The citizens had little to worry about. Rebuilding the Enreega system and the cities on the planet Seneschal would take years, possibly decades, but everyone would have plenty of opportunities and living space while the work was under way. They'd work under contract, have plenty of jobs to bid on and when it was all done they'd have great cities to live in and Regent Galactic would take care of all their needs for a price balanced against maximum market tolerance.
These things were of little concern to two gentlemen sitting beside one of the massive two storey tall windows facing the moon named Vallestra. A quick flash of light marked the departure of what their attentions were drawn to. “What do you think the problem was?” The short one asked. He wasn't just stout, he had the appearance of a boy not yet in his teen years.
“Who knows? We performed perfectly. The code was sent but Wheeler never acknowledged it. Were there any reports from our agents aboard?” Meunez, the taller of the pair, asked before taking a sip of his drink. The ice rattled in the bottom of the glass as he brought it up to his chapped lips. He wore a blue Freeground style vacsuit and a flight jacket that made him look even thinner and more sickly than he was.
“None, and there was no evidence of jamming on the bands we'd expect them to use. It is a waste to have to send the termination code though, that's what bothers me most,” Lister Hampon said, he looked truly remorseful.
“Perhaps he was injured?”
“Maybe, it's just as well. His chances of success weren't very high. It's that ship, we weren't allowed to give him the crew he needed. It wasn't in the budget. Too bad too, research and development had a field day with it before we gave it to him.”
“Do you think he realized that the compound we built into him is an explosive?”
The younger of the two shrugged, causing the shoulder pads built into his suit to touch his ears. “How could he? It's part of his body chemistry, built right in at the bottom of his major femurs. All we did was signal his nervous system to start the intermix process, in an hour or two he'll be seventy five kilos of high explosives. We told him it was lethal though, so he had every incentive to reply to our signals.”
“Will it explode right away?”
“It's random, any time after it goes active. Could be an hour, could be a couple minutes.”
“Ah, those research and development boys love their games. What are the symptoms?” Meunez asked, clearing scraggly hair out of his face.
“He'll have a fever, it'll get worse until he's sweating profusely, then his blood will stop coagulating. His orifices will start to leak as it thins out and his heart starts to pump faster to finish the intermix, then he'll die. The healthier he is the faster it works, that's one certainty.”
“Nasty. Remind me to file my T-74's on time next week,” he chuckled.
“Oh, they don't use this stuff on us. They'd just disavow our involvement and put an unbelievable bounty on our heads. We'd be fugitives everywhere.”
“I could imagine.”
The younger of the pair stood and ran his hand through his sandy blonde hair. “Well, Jake Valance is still out there, we have to send something out to try and get control of him so I released the last of our subjects captured from Starfree Port and activated the last copy of Wheeler. He's been working as a miner for a year or so, out of the way.”
“Should we tell the new one about what happened to his predecessor?” Asked Gabriel as his eyes flicked and focused to something else for a moment before focusing on Hampon again.
“Why not? I'm sure going after his ship will be a good incentive. Wheeler's profile also suggests he's a big believer in revenge. Too bad he's the last one.”
“Speaking of duplicates, how is the new body working out?”
“Great. I just wish my old one held out a few more years. Taking advantage of the more attractive Saved ones is nigh on impossible with this appearance. Still, I can't complain. I have almost half my memories and another lifetime ahead.”
Meunez's face twitched and his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.
“What is it that you're doing that has you so distracted?”
His face relaxed and he sighed. “Interfacing with the Holocaust Virus. We are teaching each other wonderful things.”
Lister's eyes went wide. “That's not wise, you're far too close to your micro-core for that to be even remotely safe. The Virus could actually access your human brains' input output systems.”
“Yes, that's the point. To create a new virus that no machine can predict. The changes it affects in me are equally impressive. I've finally felt the emotions of a machine first hand.”
“You gave the Holocaust Virus emotions? It's not supposed to be a true AI!” Hampon whispered urgently.
Gabriel nodded slowly, grinning. “No one's seen anything like this and the more time I interface with it the more it becomes its own being. Version two will be ready when the galaxy learns how to defeat version one.”
“What about the list of Saved and West Watchers?”
“They will be safe. Your recruitment drive won't have been wasted. If a cult of the rich and useless is what you want, then that's what you'll have.”
Hampon couldn't help but smile, conceding the point. “It's true, most of them are only good for their possessions and positions. A few are shaping up well though, the West Watch are growing in number and power. We even have a flourishing militia formed out of military deserters. Most of them even believe that if they are killed they will go to the East in the afterlife, to Eden itself. Are you on schedule to meet with Collins?”
“Yes, I hope I get to see the Holocaust in action for the first time.”
“I hope it puts the virus he developed to control the Eden Fleet to shame.”
“It will, oh it will,” Meunez said with a twitch and a sigh. “Even Alice would be impressed with this new life.”
The hologram of Meunez faded away and Lister Hampon left the lounge to board his private cruiser. It would take him to the first site of the Holocaust Virus mass infection, where he and many of his followers would witness the event that would validate his Cash Messiah Cult.