Balance of Power (Battleborn c23), page 43
"You killed my parents."
His mouth laughed. But his eyes remained deadly serious. "What nonsense! Now please let me pass! I'm on my way to a meeting. Surely you can imagine that there is more than enough to do right now." He tried to walk past her.
She held him by the arm. "You're behind all this shit. You have been all along. You've been manipulating me and all the others."
He looked around. "This may not be the place to talk about such accusations. Later and somewhere else, we can happily sit down together, Kareena."
"Not later." She shook her head.
He exhaled noisily. "All right, then. Have it your way."
Vandemool put his arm around her back and pushed her aside, away from the center of the flow of people. He was stronger than she had suspected. Only behind a door, in an empty corridor lined with office doors, did he let go of her.
All friendliness had drained from his face. "So, let's talk! What's on your mind, Kareena?"
"I know who you are," she said matter-of-factly.
He furrowed his eyebrows. "So, who am I?"
"You are Klaas Reuters' son. You took your mother's name. Just as your father only outed himself as the heir to one of the board members after he proved himself in the corporate military. There he met Sal Haggard, to whom he has now entrusted his own son. To get on Cynarian's board yourself, you too must first do something for the corporation. That's how board members have done it for generations. They want to win Jupiter for Cynarian. It's an impressive feat. I don't know how high the standards are, but if that's not enough to secure you a board seat ..."
"So, even if it were true, what are you accusing me of?"
"You falsified my report and leaked it to Naratova and the USI. Chang Wuaxing never had anything to do with it. Naratova had to be eliminated because she would have vehemently opposed an alliance with the mutants. She and the gene construction had great influence with the board. That's why you provoked her until she disqualified herself by her actions. And to get the Protectorate to the point of agreeing to the alliance, you turned the USI against the mutants. All with my report. A daring gamble, but obviously successful."
"You're being paranoid!" he snapped at her, but the underlying tremor in his voice was unmistakable.
"No," she contradicted, perfectly calmly. "It all adds up. An admirable lesson in corporate politics. You're brilliant, Eric. And very close to your goal."
His eyes turned to ice. "So, what do you intend to do now?"
Instead of an answer, her right arm shot forward. The heel of her hand hit Vandemool in the head and threw him against the nearest wall.
"I'm going to stop you," she announced and lunged for another blow.
The Pure ducked deftly. Kareena's fist hit the concrete. Red marks remained on the wall. She ignored the pain.
"Kareena!" roared Vandemool. "What are you doing? Stop this!" A bloody trickle ran down his forehead.
Her answer consisted of another blow. Again, the Pure dodged it. Not only was he stronger, but he was considerably faster than Kareena had thought. The fight would not be as easy as planned. She feinted a left hook, spun on her axis, and kicked out with her leg. The kick caught him in the chest and hurled him several feet down the corridor. Against close-quarters Internal Security training, even Pure's genetically enhanced reflexes were no durable protection.
"Stop it, Kareena!" whimpered Vandemool, lying on the floor. "I'm sorry. I had no idea Naratova would go so far as to send a contract killer after you or your parents. I had assumed she would discredit you or something like that. Believe me, I was completely horrified when I learned of your parents' deaths! But by then I couldn't undo it. Of course, if I had known something like that beforehand, I would have chosen a different path. Please believe me!"
Kareena towered over him. "You have not only my parents on your conscience, but also countless people on Aigis and Aurora. You are responsible for this war."
He raised one hand defensively, propping himself up on the ground with the other. "That's not true. I had nothing to do with the mutant uprising. Even without the USI's intervention, the Protectorate and the Federation would have continued to fight each other. I probably even shortened the war. If the mutants had had the upper hand, it could have dragged on for years. Many more people would have died in the process. Of course, I couldn't have known that they would send AIs. I didn't know about them."
"Just as you could not have guessed Naratova's actions. You pour oil on the fire and then you're surprised that it blows up in your face. You are insane!"
"I'm just about to end this war!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "What do you think will happen if you kill me now? The peace plan will fail, and the mutants and the Feds will be at each other's throats again. Stop it, Kareena, please! Or you'll have blood on your hands too. The blood of thousands of mutants and Federation soldiers."
She paused. Her hands were clenched into fists. She noticed that she was shaking all over. Slowly Vandemool stood up, one hand still stretched out defensively toward her. When he was back on his feet, he took a handkerchief from his suit and dabbed the blood from his forehead.
"Please, Kareena. You're not yourself," he admonished her, now considerably calmer. "I know I've done some damage. Admittedly, not everything has gone according to plan. I'm afraid I can't correct the mistakes I've made. If I could bring your parents back to life, I would do so in a heartbeat. But that is not within my power. I cannot change the past. But the future. We're about to create something really big. We're ending a war. And if everything works out as planned, we'll finally colonize Jupiter. Do you have any idea what that means? What riches await us there? You can be a part of it, Kareena. Just like Avenger and all the mutants you hold so dear. Or you can condemn them all to death. It's up to you."
Kareena stared past Vandemool. The words blurred together with his face into a diffuse mash of perception. In Kareena's mind, anger, despair, and the realization that Vandemool may have been right struggled to gain the upper hand. Her hands relaxed. Her knees softened.
"That's it," she heard a soft voice, as if from a great distance. "We'll talk more later. Right now, I need to make sure everything is running smoothly so more people don't get hurt."
He started moving, back toward the entrance hall. She reached out and grabbed his arm. Vandemool flinched, but when she just stared at him instead of punching him again, his fear gave way to deep determination.
"Kareena, think!" he admonished in a commanding tone. "Don't destroy your own life too! Even if you can prove all that you accuse me of, where do you think that will lead you? Do you have any idea what my father can set in motion to make every statement you make look like a lie? Even if you are recording this conversation right now, the file will be exposed as a fake. And what you will face if you kill me, I don't even need to mention."
Still, she held him. Silently. Staring.
"Bear in mind that my father's revenge would not only affect you!" he continued, completely matter-of-factly. "In all probability, your sister and her friend would be suspected as accomplices."
"Don't threaten me!" she growled at him between clenched teeth.
He put on his patronizing face. "I'm just trying to help you avoid an irreparable mistake. You can't change the past, Kareena. But the future. Your own future. I know about your friendship with Iesco Karelin. Don't ruin all that!"
Iesco. The thought of him soothed her. She loosened her fingers.
"You made the right decision, Kareena." Hastily, Vandemool took a few steps to the side until he was out of her immediate reach. "We'll talk more later. You have rendered valuable service to the Cynarian Corporation. I will personally see that you are properly appreciated." He turned to leave. "A carefree life awaits you, Kareena," he called to her. "I promise."
He disappeared through the door.
She was alone.
In principle, she had what she wanted. He had admitted it. However, she didn't feel the least bit better than before. What was she to do now? Vandemool's remarks were perfectly sound. Anything she did against him would mean her own downfall. She stood no chance against Klaas Reuters and the board, no matter how solid her evidence. And the plan that Vandemool was about to implement was indeed a fantastic solution to the conflict. It offered a terrific perspective for the Protectorate as well as for Cynarian. If she killed him, all that would be gone. But could she forgive him because of that, that he had walked over dead bodies on the way here, including those of Kareena's parents? She was completely undecided, at a loss. She felt drained, wrung out. She lacked all drive. Even the anger that had brought her here had faded.
What should she do now? Go back to work? Carry on as if nothing had happened? As if everything was in perfect order? Look forward to her 'carefree life'? She had no idea.
Only half sane, she returned to the entrance hall. It was still full of people, even though the worst crowds were over. Like a ghost, Kareena walked between the people into the open. The sun shone brightly through the domed roof far above her head. Aimlessly she wandered through the city, marching through the wonderful green parks without being able to enjoy their beauty. At a narrow stream, she sat down on a bench and stared ahead, oblivious to anything in the world around her.
Where before anger had driven her, now there was nothing. No grief for her parents. No relief that she had solved the mystery. No disappointment that she had failed to bring Vandemool to an appropriate punishment. Not even self-pity stirred in her.
Only emptiness.
At some point, she stood up. The clock in her memory implant told her that more than an hour had passed. She couldn't remember a minute of it. Only after she had walked quite a distance did she slowly become aware of the direction in which she had turned. Peeking out among the ostentatious corporate mansions that dominated the city was a comparatively nondescript hotel. The sight managed to elicit a gentle smile from her mouth. Time to see if Iesco was there.
07-29-2211, Selene City, Selene Corporate Republic, Luna
Selene City was filled with cafes and restaurants that provided private rooms and back rooms. In a world collectively dominated by corporations, most of which were in competition with each other, there was a great need for opportunities for confidential conversations on neutral ground.
It was in one of these establishments that Skip and Seraph had assembled. Skip admired the historically accurate furnishings, which were modeled after the East Asian-influenced colonial style of the early 22nd century. He was not particularly historically savvy, but even he noticed the irony in the fact that for decades traces of the Chinese colonists had been erased everywhere, only to furnish restaurants purposefully now in that very style. And in Selene City, of all places - the place from which the corporations had fought so intensely against Chinese dominance in the solar system colonies.
Seraph seemed to have no eye for the furnishing of the room. All the diplomacy was a loathsome thing to him. He strove valiantly to do his part to make the conference a success. But Skip had no doubt that the Eta pilot was looking forward to the moment when he could strap himself back into the cockpit of his space fighter.
It had been hard work convincing Blackheart that it was better if none of the Omegas accompanied him to the meeting. The presence of the battle mutants seemed quite intimidating to most people. For a representative of the European Federation, this was probably true to a much greater degree now. Skip did not share Blackheart's view that intimidation would be helpful in this case. He wanted to gain the Federation diplomat's trust, not scare him. He feared that this would only drive the Europeans back into the hands of the USI. And that was exactly what he currently wanted to avoid at all costs.
He looked up as the door opened. Luc Duval stiffly entered and looked around. Behind him, Major Alvarez entered. The Federation pilot greeted Skip and Seraph wordlessly while the diplomat was still eyeing them.
"Thank you for coming, Secretary Duval," Skip welcomed him.
Duval ignored the proffered hand. With an audible snort, he took the chair on his side of the table and sat down. "What do you have to tell me, Guardian?"
Skip had not expected the politician to get straight to the point, but he would oblige. "I want to convince you that our proposal for the peace plan can bring great advantages to the European Federation."
"What advantages? That you want to keep half our war fleet?"
"Having half your war fleet deployed against the enemies of the Federation without endangering the lives of a single Federation soldier."
Duval narrowed his eyes. "What enemies are you talking about?"
"The USI, of course," Skip replied. "I asked you to come here to speak candidly. So, let's get to it. You know as well as I do that the peace plan is a declaration of war on the USI. If the Corporate Council grants Jupiter to the Protectorate, we will offer Cynarian exclusive mining rights. That's the price for the support they give us. The Jupiter moons are probably small stuff compared to mining in the asteroid belt or on Mars. Io could be interesting, but conditions there are particularly difficult, to say the least. Helium-3 extraction on Jupiter itself is crucial. If Cynarian can get extraction costs down to a level competitive with USI's Saturn helium..."
"Then USI's monopoly is broken," Duval completed the sentence. "I am quite familiar with these connections. The question is, how is the European Federation going to benefit?"
Skip looked at him questioningly. "Why shouldn't it? The whole solar system will benefit if a second supplier of cheap helium-3 comes on the scene."
"Unless there's a trade embargo."
"Why would there be? The helium will be in Cynarian hands. Even if the Protectorate and the Federation continue to boycott each other - and I hope they don't - even then Cynarian has no reason to."
Duval's mouth formed a humorless smile. "I'm not talking about Cynarian, I'm talking about the Federation."
Skip paused at first, then understood. " Are the mutant haters in the Federation so stubborn, then, that they wouldn't even take the opportunity to break the USI monopoly on helium-3? The Technocratic Party has always been known for its pragmatism, after all."
The diplomat sat back. "The Technocrats are losing influence. They have not been able to act as freely as in the past for a long time. If the population suffered hardship and the party's policies alleviated that hardship, the technocrats could do whatever they wanted. But with the growing prosperity in the Federation, democratic movements are rapidly gaining ground. The radical pragmatic course of the Technocratic Party is losing popularity. That's the only reason the mutant hunt could happen at all. Ten years or so ago, the party would have massively countered any criticism of its policies regarding mutants. That doesn't work these days."
Skip tilted his head a little to the side. "May I interpret your comments to mean that you personally have no problems with mutants?"
"My views don't matter here," Duval evaded. "I have the interests of the European Federation to protect, nothing more. Assuming that the anti-mutant movement will remain strong, I fear that any decision favoring the continued existence of the Protectorate will be met with considerable opposition." His smile softened a bit. "Political decisions are not always rational, Guardian. You'll come to realize that, too."
"I work with Omegas," Skip waved it off. "I know all too well what you're talking about."
"Good, then assume that the warmongers and mutant opposition in the Federation are no less radical in their views than your Omegas."
Skip looked helplessly at his counterpart. "That means we have no chance of getting the Federation to agree to our peace plan?"
Duval leaned back and folded his arms. "It won't be easy, at least. Personally, I think the basic idea is viable. On Jupiter, you're far enough from Earth to take the sustenance out of the war, even if there's no official peace agreement. Everything else depends on the development of public opinion, both in the Federation and in the Protectorate. Your task will be to keep the Omegas under control. The Technocratic Party must take care of the mutant opposition. That's politics."
Skip wiped his hand across his head. "But we need Federation approval now. If you oppose the peace plan, the corporations will vote against it, too."
"Not necessarily," Duval objected.
Skip looked at him uncomprehendingly.
"However, you have some work ahead of you for that," the diplomat continued. "The Federation has no voting rights in the Transnational Corporate Council. So, our agreement is of no consequence. At least not if you get the corporations to support your plan. Peddle it. You have proven here that you can organize unofficial meetings. You just invited the wrong people. Take on all the relevant corporations in turn! USI is not popular anywhere. I am convinced you will find fertile ground. When in doubt, make a few concessions or promises here and there, whether you can keep them later or not."
"But what about the United Nations?" Skip inquired. "The Federation has voting rights there."
"So what?" Duval shrugged. "The United Nations has virtually no say beyond Earth orbit. Sorry to say, but in the colonies, the corporations call the shots. And they are interested in the opinion of the United Nations to a very manageable degree. For Jupiter, the corporate council is your addressee."
Skip's head was spinning. "But talking to all the relevant corporations will take some time. It's going to be tight."
"It's going to be a tight schedule," Duval confirmed. "Don't count on getting much rest in the next few days! You can tell a successful conference when you want to sleep for a week straight afterwards. I speak from experience. Maybe I can buy you some time by delaying the Federation decision a little. A few days should be within the realm of possibility. Maybe a week. Use the time!" He stood up.
Skip hesitated a moment, then rose as well. "Even though this conversation has gone differently than I had planned, I guess I owe you a debt of gratitude, Secretary Duval. If this works out, the Protectorate is in your debt." He extended his hand to Norm again.
