Contact With Chaos: Chapter Two

    The mass briefing started the next day, with everyone aboard. Per Mark's request, Ambassador Russ had been shown standard diplomatic courtesy on arrival. While he'd prefer to have the company shills met by latrine cleaners, he settled on the Executive Officer. They hadn't done anything too extreme yet, except for HMG deciding to not inform the Council. They were not legally bound to, but there was the moral issue. The social contract of the Freehold discouraged mistaking profit for rapine. Out here, though, were few witnesses and no one to call them publicly to account. Mark wished he had press along to that end, but that would also open a lot of things he needed to do to public exposure.

    Dammit, the basis of their society was to be open and honest. He'd have to ask for some moral guidance on this. Whom could he trust? McKay? Ngota? Waltz? Someone who would listen honestly to the conflict and offer advice on what he must do? Who wouldn't scream to the Council that he was too inexperienced and had to be removed? All three, he decided. He pulled up an encryption program that almost no one knew existed, strictly for communication between Citizens.

    Then he remembered there was no Jump Point here. Unless a ship was heading back under phase drive, no message could be sent. It was all up to him.

    Lieutenant Shraybman caught his attention. She had three people with her. He grabbed a corner of desk and swam over.

    "Citizen Mark Ballenger, may I present Ambassador Nurin Russ of the United Nations and his assistants."

    "A pleasure to meet you," he said sincerely, bowing his head a fraction in the emgee.

    Russ seemed surprised. "And you," he replied. His assistants bowed slightly and said nothing.

    "I'm sorry I didn't meet you personally at the lock. However, let me welcome you to our operations center for this study."

    "Thank you. Though I wonder why you didn't inform us you had discovered sentients?"

    Well, that was direct. He pretty much had to reply to that.

    "We weren't sure what was here, and we're still figuring out what it is. Also, information like this needs to be kept close. Even tightbeams can be intercepted, and any encryption we share, others can crack."

    "Fair enough," Russ nodded. "Can we combine missions?"

    "From your point of view, yes. Our exploration and research is intended to be open, once we decide what we have. However, that's not the only issue here. I have to deal with two corporations so far, and they're not really answerable, under our system."

    Russ grinned, "They are under ours."

    Mark paused a moment. That seemed to be an offer of aid in choking HMG down. However, it came with a hugely loaded assumption attached. He raised his eyebrows and waited just a moment to reply.

    "Please don't go there, Ambassador. It was ugly last time."

    Russ' sudden change in tone indicated that had been part of the offer. "Yes, you like to hold that threat out."

    "Since I was five when the war ended, that's hardly fair." He took a surreptitious look at the assistants. One male, one female, mixed race, young and obviously understudies or factota. Their expressions were neutral.

    "Forgive me," Russ said. "Obviously I'm anxious. This does affect the entire human race. The UN is the only body with the moral authority to treat, not some lone state."

    "Do you really believe that?" Mark asked, trying for incredulity.

    Russ said nothing, just smiled.

    "Nice opening bid. Want to try for something a little more reasonable?"

    "Citizen, listen—"

    That wasn't what he wanted to hear, and Mark cut him off. "No, you listen. This is a system staked by a Freehold corporation, perfectly legit within international law and with plenty of precedent. The natives have an obvious overriding claim, if sentient. That would lead to discussions of how best to approach them to preserve their society or ours, and how to mutually benefit from it. I missed the part where 'invite in some third party that attacked us with nukes and bioweapons thirty years ago, ask their opinions, and assume they have the right to take over' came into it."

    "It's the first inhabited planet the Freehold has found," Russ said. Irrelevant.

    "Ah, so since UN ships found the previous ones, that's a perpetual lease on the universe? Oh, wait! Tancorp founded Grainne, without UN sanction. Kuwait founded Ramadan. Mtali, Salin were private missions. We're at four systems the UN didn't discover or found so far." Mark was enjoying this part. It was like an asset fight between conglomerates. Actually, that's exactly what it was. He'd made millions in this game, all on contingency.

    Russ replied, "The UN was involved in development after founding, on all except Grainne."

    "That still gives us a precedent, first claim and stake, political, scientific and military missions on site. What are you bringing to the table?"

    Russ was silent. Mark kept his face still, but grinned inside. Silence from a UN diplomat was a score and a compliment. They never shut up.

    Finally, Russ tried a different tack. "You don't plan to let HMG move in and start operations at once, then?" he asked.

    "There's no reason for me to be here if that was the case. It's very probable this system is inhabited by sentients. That changes the rules for everyone, since it hasn't happened before."

    "What do you plan to do then?" Russ asked, then added, "If I may inquire?" Better.

    "Investigate until we know enough to make a decision. That's not an attempt to be evasive. I honestly don't know what to do yet. How deep is a hole? How long is a rope?"

    "I would like to offer our assistance, technical and scientific to learn more, then. In addition, I'd appreciate being able to offer amicus curiae for the obvious questions that will arise."

    "Agreed," Mark said. He'd give that one as a freebie. It would give him position to disagree later for balance.

    Once again, Russ was at a loss. "That's not a problem?"

    "I value more scientific input. I'd like to keep any communication with HMG or other nongovernment interests through me, and cautious."

    "Obviously."

    "By all means bring your people in. Please coordinate with Lieutenant Shraybman."

    She arrived as soon as her name was invoked. "Yes, sir?"

 

---

 

    "The UN delegation will be joining our research. Can you please contact the appropriate personnel to make arrangements?"

    "Will do. Also, Deep Space Resources' representative has arrived."

    "And now the money fight starts," Mark sighed. "Please tell him I'd like to talk to him."

    "It's a she. Yes, sir. The usual compliments and courtesies?"

    She. He was almost certain he knew who that was. "No."

    He kept his face blank as he enjoyed the shocked and amused expressions of all those nearby.

    Shortly, Shraybman brought over the DSR representative.

    "Citizen Ballenger, Tayalin Margov, Deep Space Resources Associate of Exploitation Ethics."

    "Taya," he greeted with a grin. "It's been several years."

    "Mark. Good day." She smiled back, thinly.

    A few things were apparent to Mark. First, that she was still distractingly gorgeous even in a shipsuit, and the scheming glint in her eyes made her more so. Second, she'd obviously been picked based on their previous negotiations. Score one for DSR for researching that. Third, she was no more trustworthy now than back then, when he'd been the purchase rep for Gealeach Metallics. He'd listen and read very carefully before agreeing to anything she offered. She wasn't a backstabber. She was a throat slitter.

    "Is that a new position?"

    "Of course," she said, brightly and with mock innocence. "Since it appears there may be sentients here, a different type of negotiation will be needed. We need to balance our needs with those of the natives to ensure a long-term, strain-free relationship."

    "Cut the bullshit, Taya. What's your position?"

    Her grin could melt steel. "HMG is claiming stake based on entering the system. That's standard policy for an unoccupied system. Were it habitable and without sentients, it would be put out for conglomerate or consortium bid and development. If this system has sentients, DSR's position is that there are no rights until feet down and contract inked."

    "That's close to the initial position the Committee is taking," Mark said. "Of course, I am not conceding or agreeing to anything until all parties have discussed this."

    "Obviously not. I am here to conclude the best deal possible for DSR vis-à-vis the Freehold Citizen's Committee, the indigenes, our own margin and that of our public image. And, of course, to shut those HMG bastards out and have their balls for breakfast." She grinned again.

    "Nice of you to admit the obvious without a fight."

    "You're welcome," she said.

    "Taya, may I present Nurin Russ, Ambassador for the UN."

    Russ had been silent, trying to be invisible, and had clearly followed the exchange with interest. He greeted her cordially with a bow, which she returned. It was not an accident that a modest but enticing amount of cleavage showed when she did so. Mark felt better now. He had two corporate sharks to deal with. That was the venue he was familiar with, so that's the fight he'd pick. Russ could keep up or be shut out himself.

    "I must talk to the Captain and Doctor McDonald," he said. "I encourage everyone to contribute their collective knowledge and wisdom to the research effort. Once we have a better idea what we are dealing with, we can negotiate over the fine points. Good day."

    As he left, he saw Taya sizing up Russ like a lab project. That would keep both of them busy. Now to see about getting HMG into the melee.

    That same day, Egan arrived. Mark knew him by reputation, but they'd never met. He lacked the control and viciousness of Taya, the formal obsequious assumptive pressure of Russ, but was still very acquisitive in his own way. It took a while to deduce that his method was to start with the assumption that he owned the entire system personally, and whine about every injustice that would take the smallest rock away from him. He was far less subtle, but at least as stubborn.

    "So, mister Egan, your position starts with a claim to the system."

    "Not quite, Citizen. All we claim is first rights. If the system is inhabited by sentients, we should have first offer and first right of refusal. If not sentient, we should be able to form our own consortium or dispose of it as controlling party. We would have claimed the system, as is standard, had it been uninhabited."

    "Under those circumstances, you're agreeable to waiting for the scientists to resolve such questions, then?"

    "We're agreeable to a reasonable period. By all means determine the actual status of the native life. To that end, I'd like to share some of our findings."

    "Certainly. As you can see," he said with a wave, "this bay is a temporary science center. It makes up for what it lacks in dedicated equipment with training and expertise."

    "Our equipment is better, and I am authorized to extend the courtesy of our resources."

    That was a good offer. Of course, it also led to a situation where everyone was beholden to HMG, who would be sure to play the card. That, and having personnel there increased the risk of a leak, blackmail, extortion, all the usual bargaining chips. An entire star system's wealth and life was at stake.

    "I will discuss that offer with the UN and Freehold scientific contingents, of course," Mark said. He kept his negotiation smile in place. "Define 'reasonable period.'"

    Egan feigned casualness and ran fingers over his jaw.

    "Well, I'm sure this could take additional days. We've determined they're tool users and have agriculture. They're almost certainly not spacefaring. Once we narrow the range we're dealing with so we know what approach to take, I expect to move into orbit and plan a landing mission."

    Legally, there was nothing Mark nor the Freehold government, such as it was, could do about that. Practically and morally there were huge issues around it. HMG was obviously aware of those, and either didn't care or didn't regard them as important. Stick enough zeroes behind a credit sign and anyone's morals were flexible.

    Still, "We'd like to approach that slowly, so as to minimize any impact, while of course retaining any and all rights your company has."

    Egan said, "Good. So have the scientists pool with mine and we'll take it from there." He said it very casually.

    Mark didn't miss it. He was quite eager to have the scientific partnership, Mark noticed. Could it be his scientists weren't quite as capable? Or that he hoped to gain more than he gave? Either was likely. He wouldn't be offering to share intel he could profit from unless he would gain as much or more in return.

    "You realize DSR has arrived with its own survey gear and would like to be part of this, too."

    "Of course. Obviously we have no say in what deal you may come to with them. I can't allow them aboard our ship for obvious reasons of corporate privacy."

    Mark considered that. Did he not think non-company scientists would notice any useful info? Or did he not have any? It certainly seemed as if his main worry was his competition. If either group found something useful, it would get shared soon enough. So, he had nothing, or little enough he thought he could benefit from the partnership, and sure as hell didn't want his competitors finding out directly how little nothing he had. Or else he knew the natives' status and didn't want it spoiling his claims.

    Mark replied, "I'll discuss that in turn. Shortly we'll have to have everyone get together for a round table and share openly."

    "Within reason, yes." Egan's nod was an attempt to hide a poker face.

    That wasn't necessarily evasive, but he wanted help without compensation.

    "Let me talk it over and see what we have. Updates are coming in pretty constantly, and you're welcome to observe. I also see that Lieutenant Shraybman has information for me," Mark said to end the conversation.

    "Very well, Citizen. Please let me know." Egan shook hands again and moved away. He obviously was recording with his comm. Mark wondered if he should have a scrambler put into play about that, or just ignore it.

    He discreetly signaled McDonald. The tall scientist nodded and swam over leisurely, checking systems and talking with people as he did so. Good man.

    "Land, what do you have?" he asked, when the doctor finally arrived.

    "Nothing substantive and new. I spoke to the military intel people and we have tactical drones on a decreasing sweep at high boost. If anything untoward happens, they'll shut down and go ballistic, after ejecting the power cell. We're five nines certain they have no space capability or advanced sensors. Once we get in close, I'd like permission to send active tacticals in, if it seems safe."

    "Let me know. We need to find information fast before someone succumbs to greed. Not that I blame them."

    "I understand. Though I'm not clear on how adding more zeroes to the credit sign makes the task more worthwhile. My motivation is a little different." Again the amused smile.

    "People like them and people like us will never meet on that issue," Mark agreed. He'd had millions not so long ago. In order to be a Citizen he'd had to divest himself of most of it and donate it to the government he now worked for. There reached a point where more money was merely point counting, and there were other, more interesting ways to make points. Though he was certainly earning those points here.

    After three days of back and forth on the technical data, Mark agreed to the roundtable he'd mentioned. The longer the scientists had the better, but he had to offer something or the two mining firms were likely to race down and settle it with survey charges and power beams.

    Captain Betang graciously offered a conference room on the command deck. Mark checked it over the evening before to get a good feel for it. He'd never seen a warship wardroom before. The table was dogged down, the seats had belts for emgee, as well as additional harnesses in case of battle or maneuver. The bulkheads were plain polymer panels with a few schematics of ships and a framed starscape to break up the blank, with assorted screens and displays at each seat, recessed into the table, on bulkheads and overhead.

    When he arrived he made a point of being on time. Exactly on time.

    "Good morning," he said. He sat, stared down the table. Betang was present at his request, Shraybman, McDonald and two of his experts, Russ, his female assistant whose name he still didn't know, two UN scientists, Egan and Margov. Without preamble he said, "I'd like to let Doctor McDonald summarize our current findings."

    "Ladies, men," McDonald began. "I'm feeding a variety of displays and documents to your screens. Summary is behind me to my left, and a photo slideshow will appear to the right. The technical specs for the images are available through your systems.

    "Basically, the natives are definitely tool users and city builders with agriculture. Obviously, sentient. They do not have anything close to space capability, even low orbit, to the best of our ability to detect. Air travel is exceptionally unlikely. The specific probabilities are listed, but they're several standard deviations from the baseline. We don't know what ground-based sensors they have, but there's less than a point zero five percent chance of electrical power. We're not sure what visual frequencies they may use, but low infrared is possible, given the spectrum of the star. Ultraviolet is conceivable.

    "We make a sixty percent probability of their technology ranging from bronze age to early industrial age, mechanical tools without modern power."

    Russ asked, "What do you recommend as the next step?" His own scientists had obviously advised him, but he was helping Mark present all facts. They hadn't discussed doing this, but Mark appreciated it. By the time they were done, the assumption should be that the system be left in isolation. The speculators would have to argue for every concession.

    McDonald said, "Move in closer and determine their technical level with greater accuracy. Assuming we prove they don't have modern sensors, we can use more active equipment ourselves and place them better."

    Mark asked, for record, since he knew, "What do you think of a contact scenario?"

    "Obviously, we have to ascertain their technical level, attempt to deduce their sociological level and mythology, then make assessments as to how they will react. After that, we must try careful meetings without exceeding their technological level in a fashion that will arouse or upset them."

    Egan asked what was obvious for him. "How long do you estimate this to take?"

    "It could be anywhere from weeks to years," McDonald said. "It's impossible to guess without actually seeing the indigenous society or societies."

    "Citizen? What do we do about that?" By "We" he obviously meant Mark, whom he expected to produce an answer to his liking.

    Mark replied, "We continue the examination. We don't want to be incautious and alarm the locals. That will obviously complicate any interactions or trade. That concerns you more than us."

    "I don't see how it would be harder than the regressed tribalists on Salin or the outer areas of Mtali."

    Taya Margov saved Mark by saying, "They at least grasp the concept of technological society. These people may not. Imagine…no, I don't think there is a comparison. Even if we saw something impossible, we'd attribute it to a new technology. They may not have actual technology beyond the simple Archimedean tools."

    Russ said, "I must agree on restraint."

    "Am I being asked or ordered?" Egan asked, looking around and bristling a little.

    "Asked," Mark insisted at once. "Your interest is economic, but the other interests are still valid and subject to discussion, in court if need be."

    "Frankly, I move to step up the exploration fast and see what the surface looks like. I don't see how doing that would violate any lesser interests, as long as it's done cautiously."

    Now was the time, Mark thought.

    "That information is already available," he said.

    Once everyone was looking at him, he continued. "I authorized an unarmed tactical reconnaissance by some of our intelligence boats."

    "When?" Egan demanded. "We've been monitoring the entire system with sensors and didn't see any launches or atmospheric entries."

    Mark smiled and stared for a moment. When it was clear Egan was slow on the uptake, he said, "So you can assume our military stealthing exceeds the capabilities of your surplus military sensors." The troops had loved it, too. Sneaking and scooting past an active "enemy" had been a challenge they'd enthusiastically embraced.

    Russ looked perturbed. Clearly, he didn't like those implications, either.

    "Here's the edited and annotated footage and images," Mark said, pulling up four screens and a 3D tank. "The surface is very poor in metals. What's there are light metals in hard to process ores. Iron is not available in any quantity that's exploitable without industrial machinery they haven't been able to build. The same for copper. I limited the pass to remote sites and long range images, but you can see that the villages are communal and simple."

    "So, they're stone age?" Egan asked.

    "They're not a metal using society," McDonald said. Everyone faced him. "Since we're admitting this, Citizen, may I?" After Mark's nod, he said, "However, they seem to have advanced somewhat above that of Neolithic societies on Earth. There are other technologies that developed concordantly with metal. Agriculture, animal husbandry, early chemistry, mechanics. There's no reason such would not happen here, and in fact, appear to have done so."

    The scans were stills taken at high speed, during a supra-atmospheric pass. They seemed slightly better resolution than a microball drone would shoot, but they were not great. However, the military photo people had cleaned and sanitized them, to give more clarity and to hide capabilities. One of them was in the cabin watching right now, to determine if any capability might be revealed.

    "Fascinating." The speaker was Marguerite Stephens, whose title was Historical Developmental Anthropologist. She craned across the table. "They look like Medieval communities with an open field system. Far more advanced than you'd expect of a Stone Age culture. Can I get the raw data?"

    "I will make the raw data available to everyone," Mark agreed.

    "Did I see boats and tracks?"

    "We aren't sure," McDonald said. "Obviously, they don't have engines, but they might have pedal power or levered wheels."

    "You are positive on the engines?"

    "Yes. No bronze, no iron, and aluminum takes either electrical power, almost impossible without the former, or advanced chemical reduction. Also, there's no reason to develop aluminum if you don't know about the more basic metals, and nothing to suggest looking."

    Stephens said, "DaVinci described a number of mechanisms, and the old English narrowboats were horse drawn, as were the early rails. I can accept that. But I certainly want to get feet down and see. Both culturally and technically it's a goldmine. I suppose we could say that's the real mission here."

    Mark snickered. This grandmotherly intellectual was a great help. Egan was being treated as side issue. It would be good for him. A glance showed him to be twitching.

    Russ asked, "Do you believe we should move in closer at this point, or continue doing remote scans with our best equipment?"

    "Doctor McDonald?" Mark prompted.

    McDonald tilted his head slightly and said, "I believe it safe to send recon craft in closer, and take better resolution images. I must recommend against atmospheric probes or impactors."

    "Why against probes?" Margov asked. She looked quite alert.

    "There is very little meteoric activity in this system. A flare or fireball could be significant."

    "I understand," Margov said. "So, I propose we wait for more information, and land together. The natives will eventually deal with whomever they feel is the better company for their needs. Unless HMG is afraid that's not them?" She stared at Egan. Her smile was casual, but vicious.

    "Not afraid, and don't feel a need to prove it," Egan said, in a manner that proved he did need to prove it. "We'll land when we feel like it." It was a clear challenge.

    "Inadvisable," McDonald said. He had a faint edge of annoyance. Very faint. For Land, that was the equivalent of calling someone an idiot.

    Egan missed it, or didn't care. "Right now, perhaps. Since the data will be available to all, I'll ask my staff to review it, and decide from there what our best option is."

    Mark still had no response to that. He wasn't sure what could come up that would be. He knew something had to, though.

    The meeting adjourned with handshaking and fake smiles. At this point, there was the HMG versus DSR fight, the UN versus the commercial agendas, UN bluster versus the Freehold's claim, and the officially neutral position of the Freehold, unofficially in favor of keeping the interference as low as possible. Officially, that was the UN's concern, too. In reality, its concern was in grabbing power, as it had been for five hundred years.

    He had to concede one point to DSR. It was necessary to land soon and resolve this. It wasn't going to get smaller with waiting.

    As everyone departed, most with phones in use and encrypted messages flying, Mark caught Captain Betang's attention, and indicated privacy. Betang nodded and opened a side compartment, about twenty percent as large and sealed.

    The hatch closed, and he said, "Tell me about the UN ship."

    Betang shrugged and said, "Comparable class and capabilities, really. Retrofitted with phase drive and not purpose built. It's Sloan's mechanism, not Brandt's, but doesn't make much difference. Would you like deck plans or a capabilities sheet?"

    "No, similar to ours is good enough. I don't want to be massively outclassed, or have brought too much. Status quo helps."

    "I see where you're going. Yes, sir. Let me know what we are to do."

    "Thank you, Captain."

    As he left the boardroom, Russ was waiting in the main passageway, alone.

    "I'd like a word with you, Citizen Ballenger."

    "Certainly."

    "Your reconnaissance, without consulting with us is somewhat disturbing. Moreover, the implied threat such flights pose to our ships and interests is a point for discussion. You could, in theory, attack one of our craft."

    Blunt and honest. Mark replied in kind. "If you're not hostile, you have nothing to worry about. If our concern was hostile, it would already have happened. We did help rebuild after the War. There's no long term animosity toward the people of Earth, and as we're cooperating here and elsewhere, not between governments, either."

    "The War is not a subject most people find tasteful."

    "Nor do we, when it comes down to it."

    After a moment of swapped stares, they parted ways.

    Mark sighed. He was the new guy, on a mission unlike any before. It felt like juggling sharp knives, just waiting for one to come down the wrong way.