Old Enemies
Strasbourg, September 19th, 2047
It was as if the snow would never end. Programming autonomous drones to do his bidding had never been Patrick's strong point. But then Patrick wasn't so sure what his strong point was. It was as if every other agent that Patrick ever worked with was better at about everything that Patrick prided himself on. His new task had been simple enough. Strasbourg was about to become the center of a get together that could quite possibly lead to the biggest political upheaval since the PUPR exposure that had started the copyright wars. Everyone was panicking. Well, almost everyone. The NNT climate science council, one of the local network transmissions that Xavier had asked him to monitor during the political proceedings had shown two camps of scientists with violently opposing views on the recent climate crisis. While everyone seemed to agree the footage of alien giants had been real and that the accompanying data clearly showed the recent climate figures had been linked to something referred to as intergalactic M-Brane folding, the motivation of these alien giants had been a major point of dispute amongst the scientists. One group of scientists were displaying slides showing that the Baltic sea hadn't completely frozen over during deep winter since the year 1703, pointing out that with it actually officially still being summer, these climate phenomena can only be interpreted as an overt attack on the planet by these aliens. The second group of scientists that made up for its smaller size by being significantly more vocal than the first group, kept bringing up the greenhouse gas emissions during the last century had led to massive global warming. As such, they reasoned, the actions performed by these admittedly unfriendly looking aliens should be interpreted as a friendly gesture. A helping hand with our global warming issues here on earth. It wasn't Patrick's job to evaluate the data. His job was to find the highlights in this and the many other intelligence sources the Strasbourg diplomatic-quarter closed TV network offered during these days of turmoils. The low power PRN radio transmitter would get the relevant intel to Xavier and his new ragtag crew. How Patrick wished he could have been with them on the debrisphere mining ship right now instead of on this snow-covered rooftop, programming autonomous drones to keep the small dish-antenna sufficiently free from snow to keep the PRN transceiver synchronized. It wasn't snowing all that hard actually, but the snow wasn't taking any brakes either. Looking down from the rooftop, it was clear the city wasn't prepared for half a meter of snow in September. The roads here in the diplomatic quarter were fine, but as there was a major shortage of salt, most of the rest of the city's traffic had grinded to a halt under the weight of half a meter of snow that kept growing even thicker every hour.
Ok, this ought to do it. As two of the three autonomous drones took off and moved toward the dish antenna, Patrick heard the dying sound of the third drone's little engines. Shit! That blasted snow. Well, the remaining two just had to do the job, for now, Patrick was awaiting important transmissions that might end up being crucial to Xavier and his crew. Patrick stamped his feet to get rid of the snow on his lacquer shoes and trousers and closed the door behind him before he descended the iron stairs.
His bones were aching from the cold as if he was an old man. Twelve degrees below zero while it was the middle of the day and it wasn't even October yet. Benign aliens trying to help my foot! Eight months a full agent, Xavier was already Patrick's third partner now, but until this NNT mission, Patrick had never actually in his whole life traveled further north than Florida. And then agent suits weren't exactly winter proof and there wasn't much of the freezing cold that Patrick's plain cotton scarf attenuated either. As Patrick entered his small studio that was filled with six monitors tuned in to the live conference channels that could be of tactical importance, he quickly turned the heat up by turning the dial to twenty-seven degrees centigrade. The climate scientists were just going through the same motions over and over again. If any of them had actually seen the menacing tree canopy with their own eyes, Patrick knew, they wouldn't be arguing any of this. This wasn't a helping hand. This wasn't a benign alien culture trying to help us poor humans out with our global warming problems, this was a full out attack. Patrick didn't know much and being relatively fresh out of agent training didn't feel he was seasoned enough to jump to conclusions all that often, but this? This was such an open and shut case that it amazed Patrick that there could even be a discussion on this subject.
Patrick changed the audio setting and focussed on the secondary diplomatic channel. The audio settings were configured in such a way that they allowed Patrick to rotate his focus between five of the six audio feeds. The main audio channel was now set to the secondary diplomatic channel. This channel as selected channel had the loudest audio of all five channels and was audible as if the sound was coming from his center front direction. At slightly lower volume, the audio system was set up to project the sound of the other four conferences from different angles throughout Patrick's studio. This way Patrick could keep one ear open to interesting info from the other conferences. It was a demanding task that took a lot of focus, but Patrick could manage.
The secondary diplomatic channel was about to start the discussion of a motion that was of particular concern to New Zion. But not just that, they were of vital importance to Xavier and his crew at this very moment as well. The New-Babylon Mars colony had received the transmission by the quantum wizard, as the old man that Xavier had his most unfortunate encounter with was now commonly referred to. They had received the transmission and had announced they would send a small group of diplomats.
All of this could still be an elaborate trick by New Babylon. The data; the images, Xavier's experience with the quantum wizard, they all seemed genuine enough, but if there was one thing that history had shown, it was that when dealing with New Babylon, depending too much on your senses, depending too much on your intuition and gut instincts, more often than not would have you losing a battle. The conduit training wasn't considered the most pivotal aspect of agent training for nothing. It was what thought an agent that his senses and instincts could not always be counted upon. There was a reason why they had taken her on board when they had dropped him off here. Xavier and his crew now had an actual conduit on board. Patrick shivered at his own memories of conduit training. Oh, how she had messed with his mind, played him like he was her instrument. Conduits deserved respect as without conduits, the relatively small New Zion agent forces could never have been a power to reckon with. But still, Patrick could not get over his upbringing. No matter what she had done for him. No matter how important she and her sisters had been to New Zion, she was an Obia women. They were witches, basically, and Patrick had grown up with the fear of Obia deeply installed into him by his grandmother.
"Motion seventy-one: on allowing the Mars One diplomatic delegation to join the conference. The New Zion delegation has the mike."
"Thank you, mister chairman sir. As everyone assembled here will know, New Zion has continued and will continue to fight New Zion irrespective of the new threat, if that is, the new threat is indeed real."
It was him, it was the general speaking. Looking just like he did in the Hospital in Haiti. The old man in his perfectly tailored white suit. He even kept his white hat on while talking. The only thing missing was his shades.
"Mister chairman", a nervous-looking man in Ottoman Kaymakan attire interrupted.
"New Zion has the mike, Mr. Osman, I am closing the interruption microphone until New Zion has finished it's official statement. General, please continue."
"Thank you, mister chairman. Let me assure everyone here that New Zion does take the new threat very seriously. There is a real chance the new threat is real and not just a New Babylon trick. Yet we are also diligent with respect to our duty to this planet regarding the old threats. There is a whole armada of thirty-one ships in orbit around Mars. We are aware of fourteen New Babylon operatives currently being active here on earth and we have reason to believe there might be a few more of them If we add the twelve diplomats, we might just end up with thirty-one pilots here on earth. It is important for everyone to realize, that without a human pilot to slow the ships down, our current intel shows us that the armada could travel the whole distance from Mars to Earth at ninety g's in a mere forty minutes."
The crowd behind the interruption microphones was growing and was visibly starting to get more and more agitated.
"Rest assured, friends, New Zion will 'not' attack the diplomat ships unprovoked. We shall allow them to come to Earth, come to Strasbourg. But we shall be taking precautions. We shall be monitoring any movement from the New Babylon armada. Monitoring any craft making its way out of Earth's atmosphere.At any sign of movement from the New Babylon armada without our consent, both the New Babylon operatives and the so-called diplomats will immediately become military targets, as will any crafts leaving Earth's atmosphere or orbiting the planet. Thank you, mister chairman."
"Mr. Osman, from the Istanbul armed forces, you may now use the interruption microphone."
"This is an outrage! Who does New Zion think they are Mr chairman? We need all the help we can get fighting these aliens if we are going to survive this. "
"Please Mr. Osman, could you please phrase your statement as a question for the speaker?"
"I don't believe I can Mr chairman, I ….."
As the chairman muted the interruption microphone Mr. Osman looked as if he was about to explode. So much for the fine art of diplomacy.
"Thank you Mr. Osman, the interruption microphone is open for Captain Moise Matatu from the Cotonou conurbation. Captain, you may now query the speaker."
"Thank you, Mr. chairman. I would like to ask the speaker and ask the chairman if there are any reasons to further postpone voting on motion seventy-one? I would rather have the Mars-One diplomats share these comfortable seats with us before the giant aliens drop in and before Strasbourg gets a glaciers problem, Mr chairman!"
"General?"
"Thank you, Mr. chairman. No, I see no such reasons."
"Thank you, General. On motion seventy-one: on allowing the Mars One diplomatic delegation to join the conference. May I have everyone's votes please?"
If you enjoyed this chapter, you can find the rest of this story so far through this index. If you would like to win some SBD, I am running a Beta Reading Lottery each month to help me improve my work and to help you win one of the prizes ranging from 2.- STEEM to 10.- STEEM. You can find this month's beta reading lottery/contest here.
Cover art by Keith Draws