An Eighty Percent Solution Part 19

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"My illness started as nothing but muscle aches, but I knew there was nothing normal about it. I've not been ill since a bout of measles at seven years old. This made me obviously suspicious. I've tested my blood and it's positive for an unknown biological agent. It could be a naturally occurring mutation, but its targets seem a bit localized."

"I don't think we should a.s.sume anything yet. We should give it a bit of time. We're a small and closely knit group, after all."

"Well, I'm going to inst.i.tute some quarantine procedures. All those that are ill will not be allowed to further mingle with the rest of our team."

"Seems logical no matter the cause. I don't mean to sound belittling, but this sounds like an overreaction."

"So be it. I find it all too convenient, but we shall see."



For their regular quarterly meeting, the cabal met in person in the heart of a private s.p.a.ce station orbiting the Moon. That they alone occupied the station or had ever been on the station since its construction didn't seem to faze these ten wealthy individuals.

Living and sleeping in zero-gee, and the solitude no one ever got on Earth, rested one in a way no other relaxation could. Each had used it as a private retreat when the pressures of running a conglomerate climbed too high to withstand.

The tiny conference room would've seemed cramped in any gravity, but in zero-gee the group lay out flat nearly head-to-head in a formation that resembled the points of a three-dimensional compa.s.s. Each kept notes on an electronic stylus tethered to podiums that stretched out from the wall. Tokyo Industrials and CNI, both uncomfortable floating free, strapped themselves to the same solid structures.

"That brings us to the actions against the GAM," directed Wintel, the chairman for this quarter.

"Actions here have taken a radical change," said Taste Dynamics, who gently drifted away to the right from her notes.

"Agreed," Nanogate said. "The actions against Nanogate have ceased, but the damage has been done. We are a ghost of our former strength. Our simulations show eight to ten years to reestablish ourselves even without any further attacks."

"That's within the overall window of damage we predicted," claimed ECM.

Nanogate kept his face perfectly calm.

"Actually, the change I wanted to report is that we are now the ones under attack," Taste Dynamics explained. "As has been the norm of late, no one has claimed responsibility. Additionally, the attacks have been very severe and quite uncanny in their targeting."

"Please elaborate."

"We've lost seven s.h.i.+pments of a rare chemical required in the production of nanites, and even more importantly the new NAD, Neural Amplification and Disruption, weaponry. We've beefed up our security on these s.h.i.+pments, and miraculously no one made attempts on the last four we sent. This puts our finished goods deliveries to our customers behind by at least a full quarter, even if we reduce our own uses to zero. The cost in penalties alone is ruinous."

"Our original a.s.sessment of this was industrial sabotage, until someone succeeded in eradicating the formula for Pepsi. This formula is one of the most closely guarded secrets in my entire sphere of influence. Only three people, and one totally isolated and hidden computer system, knew the formula. All three of these people were killed within minutes of a large detonation which destroyed the computer system-a system whose location only three different people knew.

"I don't need to inform you of the magnitude of this loss. To hide this, we've started a spin on all the nets to get people ready for the new and improved Pepsi. However, every netwired pundit has plastered the real story over every black channel available. Sixty-three percent of the viewers believe the truth, not our spin coverage."

"Anything more?"

"Dozens of attacks on key industrial facilities. All of this has happened within the last week. Our stock, as I'm sure all of you have noticed, has plummeted to a mere thirty-four percent of its former value. My people are telling me that the word on the street is that the GAM has made Taste Dynamics its prime target. And as in the past, ma.s.sive puts distributed across many over-the-counter operations again gave the perpetrators a ma.s.sive infusion of cash."

"Why the change?" Nanogate asked with a straight face. High stakes poker players could take tips from him. "They could've finished us off completely with just a bit more concentrated effort."

"Lack of prime targets?" asked CNI. "A group like this feeds on morale and success. They don't have the will to follow through with their actions to completion. I venture they realized all they could pick on with Nanogate was crumbs and decided to go after more juicy morsels elsewhere."

"A plausible explanation," Taste Dynamics reluctantly agreed. "I remain concerned that the damage to our fiscal structure seems a little too precise and convenient. Could there be inside information?"

"That's definitely something you should investigate," said Bell.

"Wait a moment," Percomm Systems interjected. "Are you suggesting that someone in this room had anything to do with this?"

"I made no such implication," Taste Dynamics said with the blandest expression as she floated just a bit away from her designated place. Her body made gentle and unconscious movements to recover her podium and her notes, but her face didn't waver.

"That's good. Without cooperation, we would not be able to function nearly as effectively."

"Agreed."

"Yes."

"I suggest in the interest of continuing our support of those affected by the GAM that we extend our open loan policy to Taste Dynamics," offered Nanogate in a fine hypocritical glow.

Taste Dynamics glared but said nothing.

"Pa.s.sed by acclamation."

"Grab her left arm...I mean, tentacle...I mean, just grab it!"

With a howl sp.a.w.ned from the deepest h.e.l.l, Suet flailed again, throwing Tolly's huge frame across the bedroom with predictable results in the centuries old home built with old-fas.h.i.+oned sheetrock.

With the devastation left by a hurricane, the room bore holes randomly s.p.a.ced about the walls, along with shattered lamps, torn bedding, and shredded bits of indistinguishable electronics littered about. One sliding closet door hung from a single point at right angles to its tracks, and the other had been broken roughly horizontally in half. The bed on which Suet lay only retained its two right legs, canting it to the left. The loose jade tentacle snapped across the top quarter of the battered but previously intact TriVid, shattering any semblance of form or functionality.

This time Tony and Andrew managed to grab and hold down Suet's right arm without damage to any party. The welts and bruises on everyone testified that they hadn't been so successful in containing the chaos previously.

"Augustine! Hurry up!"

"Cracking body implants isn't the easiest job in the world!" she snapped back from the other room. "Most of this is black market kludge. If I address the wrong command register, I could crash her completely!"

"I don't care! If you ain't smart, Sheila, we'll all be mus.h.!.+"

"Andrew, get this arm lashed down so we can try and control the other one."

"P'ease shu' me off," Suet pleaded in a voice weak and cracked by hours of screaming.

"We're trying, sweetie," Tony said softly. "It won't be long."

"Oh, s.h.i.+'! Here comes another one!" The screech of Suet's voice mimicked the intensity and agony of tearing sheet steel in a high-speed vehicle crash.

"Tolly, get up and grab that arm!"

He made it by bare microseconds. This time, her body rocked in jackhammer-like strokes on the bed. Her hips lifted nearly 30 centimeters before cras.h.i.+ng down each time. The third oscillation took off the remaining legs of the bed with the report similar to a pair of gunshots, milliseconds apart.

Sonya, the newest arrival, bolted in from the front door. She chanted something as she ran full speed to the side of the bed. From one hand she cast a handful of dust at Suet's vibrating form. All motion stopped instantly.

"Augustine, that won't last long," Sonya announced as the others allowed themselves a brief moment to relax. "Get her implants shut down now!"

"Two minutes," came the slightly m.u.f.fled reply.

"This is no cold," Sonya spat at Tony in the rarest display of temper.

Tony looked at her, stunned, unable to think of anything to say in response.

"What happened?" Sonya asked, forcibly calming herself down.

Tolly took up the description after two deep breaths and a brief examination of a dinner-plate-sized abrasion on his abdomen. "I got a ring from Suet's flat-mate, Sandy. Suet asked her to ring me up because she was having troubles controlling voluntary servos. I've meched for Suet in the past. I didn't think anything of it until I came in and found Sandy lying on the floor with her neck broken. Then I put out the all- points alarm per doctrine. You know most of the rest."

"You were right about the illnesses, Sonya," admitted Tony. "What's our next step?"

"Closest to this I've heard of is epilepsy, but gengineering cleared that up fifty years or more ago. When Augustine's done, I'll have her search the medical databases."

"What about the others?"

"Nothing like this. Jonah's symptoms seem to be that of radiation poisoning. Frances looks more like malaria. Andrew, Colin, and Arthur have each complained of fevers, but have no further symptoms. The only core members that I know of that don't seem to be affected are you, Augustine, and Christine."

"What about you?" Tony asked.

Sonya's composure momentarily slid. Deep lines showed out from under her eyes while the frown of her face intensified. A yellow pallor became visible under the olive skin. These images flashed for but a moment, and once again fell victim to her iron control. Her brows knitted tighter together in concentration.

"Mine seems to be focusing on my liver, similar to severe sclerosis. I'll be honest...I'm holding myself together with spells and little else at the moment."

"I think you made mention of a deeper probe into this. How can I help?" Tony asked.

"I brought my blood-drawing kit."

"I've always hated needles," Tony said with a shudder.

"Encryption enabled. Connection established," said the sultry computer-automated device. Tony often wondered if they chose those voices to make certain men, at least, would pay attention. This time he, Augustine, and about eighty kilos of computer equipment crammed themselves into a two-and-a-half-meter square women's bathroom in Benito's Fine Dining. Andrea, duplicitously garbed in bodyguard yellow, watched the door. Based on the two previous meetings, they didn't expect any danger, but they could take no chances.

"As we agreed, this will be my final call," Nanogate said without preamble. He didn't have to like what survival dictated.

"As agreed," Tony said as he watched Augustine's face for any sign of a trace, but it remained pa.s.sive. While the last call, it also was the most dangerous in other ways-very little held the other from reneging on any promise.

"I hope by now I've given you enough evidence that I can be trusted."

"You've been very forthcoming thus far."

"As have you. My final intelligence is how to obtain a direct tap into the Taste Dynamics net."

Augustine's head jerked up.

"We have a tap into their network," remarked Tony casually.

"Not beyond their executive firewall you don't."

The l.u.s.t in Augustine's eyes struck Tony harder than anything she could've said. "OK. You have our attention."

Nanogate allowed himself a tiny chuckle. "I thought I might. As before, I won't admit to any technical knowledge I don't have. I've been a.s.sured by a very good source that there is an old fiber optic link inside Taste Dynamics that pa.s.ses through a low security janitorial closet because of a remodel this last week. You will find the schematics and pictures on the data carrier."

Augustine nodded.

"Apparently," continued Nanogate, "some contractor didn't know what it was and decided that for his ease of work, sliding it over a meter would be acceptable. I don't know how long it'll remain in place, but I expect until the inspection at the end of construction approximately one week from today."

"That's very impressive and seems complete. Anything more to share?"

"Just a question."

"Go on."

"How long will you leave Nanogate alone after this?"

Tony paused. It wasn't a question he'd considered. He could lie. He could make something up. It wasn't anything they as a team had remotely discussed.

"a.s.suming the information you gave us pays off, we won't directly attack any physical a.s.set of your conglomerate for three full years."

"Acceptable. This finalizes our agreement, Mr. Sammis."

Before Tony could respond the line went dead. Augustine once again went wide-eyed, but for a reason that Tony didn't understand.

"Three years?!" burst Linc's voice over the alternate line. "How could you propose such a thing?! We've finally got them on the run and you throw it away?" Venom dripped with each word, but it broke when Linc began a series of wracking coughs that just didn't seem to end.

"I do have to agree with Linc's a.s.sessment, if not his vehemence," Sonya rasped in a voice that broke twice into a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

"I had to come up with something on the fly," Tony snapped from fatigue. "Look, I don't see any of you sitting in the hot seat." Between missions and Suet's bedside vigil, his sleep in the last week totaled less than five hours, and that only because Sonya slipped a needle full of Doz into his a.s.s.

"No one questioned your-"

"Yes, Sonya, they did. Before I drop this call, I want you to understand two things about this.

"First, we always have the option of NOT living up to the agreement I made. I don't like that option, but it exists. Second, if we work through the other major conglomerates, it'll take us at least three years, even with an increase in operational tempo, to get back to Nanogate."

"But we'd finish off Nanogate without a sweat in just a few weeks."

"True, but we'd be hitting lower priority targets when we need high visibility right now. We need to increase our recruiting to a point where we can run multiple operations every day all across the solar system. That's something our pitiful dozen can't manage, not even with the second cell that seems to be coming along so well."

He sucked in a couple of deep breaths, rubbing his eyes from fatigue. "I'm sorry, I'm so tired I can't be diplo."

"Go back to your flat. We can hold the fort. Aces!"

An Eighty Percent Solution Part 19

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An Eighty Percent Solution Part 19 summary

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