Playing God(129)

“I would like to officially open this meeting,” Brador said. “Please be aware that these proceedings are open for remote viewing. Room voice, begin recording.” He paused briefly to give the cameras time to switch on, then launched into a very canned opening. “We are all aware of the immediate crisis on the planet Dedelph—”

“Crisis?” snorted one of the people standing against the wall. “It's a world war, not a crisis.”

The speaker leaned forward and Lynn recognized Vincent Berkley's lean, sharp face and angular body. His clothes fit loosely, but his elbows, shoulders, and knees still seemed about to poke holes in the fabric. Berkley was in charge of environmental micromodeling, so she hadn't had much to do with him, yet. But she knew about him from Trace and R.J., who spoke his name with a healthy mix of respect and wariness.

“I don't see what we're doing here.” Berkley stepped away from the wall. “The Confederation's fallen apart. Nobody's holding our contract. The social dynamic has turned into an unpredictably dangerous situation that Bioverse can't expect any of us to walk into.”

“Every contract has provisions for hazard duty,” tried Brador.

“Yes, but not suicide.” Berkley folded his arms. The cloth around his elbows strained to keep them covered. “We are citizens as wed as employees and we have a say in what the corp, and we, get to do with our lives.”

“They've already attacked us,” said a thin, pale woman with watery grey eyes whom Lynn couldn't put a name to. “They've already tried to kill us. We've had to pull out. We can't do our jobs. There's no one left to work with.”

Lynn glanced at Keale. He sat like a stone with his hands on the arms of his chair. If Brador had brought him there for moral support, it didn't look like he was getting it.

“I am not going to order my people into a situation that's going to get them killed,” said a short, broad man with his sleeves rolled up to expose burly forearms. “We can't let this situation continue.”

“No,” said Lynn quietly, “and we don't have to.”

Everyone's attention fastened on her.

“Don't we?” inquired Keale, mildly.

Lynn got to her feet. “We can stop the war. Wars. Give those who want to get themselves to safety a chance to leave.”

“If you have any suggestions as to how we can do that without unduly jeopardizing the Dedelphi or our citizens, Dr. Nussbaumer”—Brador spread his hands—“I'd love to hear them.”

“Disinformation.”

“What?” said Brador. Several others’ mouths began moving without sound, getting a definition for the archaic word from their various implants.

“Nothing is accomplished without knowledge. Lose your source of information …” Her voice shook. She stopped and took a deep breath. “Lose your source of information, and you lose your ability to plan, to strategize.

“Not even the Dedelphi fight without knowing whom to hit and where they are. We can use the communications network, our security teams, and our people to spread false reports about troop movements, numbers, who's been evacuated, and who's still here.”

Berkley raised his eyebrows. “She's suggesting we lie to our clients.”

“It's less deadly than letting them fight it out.” Lynn planted both hands on the table and let her one eye track the room. Let them all get a good look at me. Let them see what's already happened. Let them think about how much further it can go.

“The Dedelphi have already tapped our communications network and broken our codes,” said Keale. “We can use that against them. Send out bogus confidential reports.”

Lynn resisted the temptation to stare at him. Was he coming in on her side? Or had she switched over to his? Lynn shoved that thought aside. “There are a large number of Great Families who want no part of this war. We can still relocate them. We can make it public that we will defend the ports and our transports, and if anyone wants to take their chances attacking them, well, they're taking their chances.”

“Lie, then threaten them,” murmured Berkley, scratching the back of his head. “I don't know how they do things where you come from, Dr. Nussbaumer …”

Lynn felt a rush of real anger. “Where I come from,” she said in a tight, controlled voice, “we don't abandon those we've promised to help.”

“Do you kid your own people instead?” asked the grey-eyed woman.

Lynn bit down on her first reply. “You ad seem to think we're helpless. We are not helpless. You, we, tame entire ecosystems. We steamroller whole planets when necessary. This war, these combatants, are a hostile ecosystem that needs taming. That's the job. The only question is how do we tame them?”