DEATH ON TITAN

By Ben Coppin

The robotic announcer on the morning news reports the verdict. The people of Titan have found me guilty of treason and conspiracy to murder Linus Schwab. I am sentenced to deportation to Earth; I’m on the run and am to be considered armed and dangerous."

(Continued from last time...) Chapter 18: Mob

“Hey, Laker!”

The voice sounds familiar. It seems to be coming from a nearby rooftop.

“Over here!”

The same voice, but from the opposite direction. The hands around my arms and neck loosen. “Looking for me?” This time, the voice echoes off the surrounding buildings, coming from nowhere and everywhere. What is going on?

One of the Lakers reflects my thought out loud.

Ambling down the street towards us is... Someone. Someone my brain knows but can’t believe. And then it clicks. It’s me. Or a copy of me.

“Over here, boys.”

I spin around. The Lakers have released their grip on me now. Another Abbie is walking towards us.

A whistle behind me draws our attention. It’s me again, coming out of the building opposite.

“What the hell?” says a Laker. By now there must be twenty or thirty of me heading towards us, converging into a tight group, grim expressions on their (our?) faces. They crash into us in a wave, jostling us as they split and move around us before turning and flowing back. This time a new hand grabs me and pulls me into the wave, away from the Lakers.

“Which one is the real one?” I hear a confused Laker ask.

“I don’t know!” another replies. I’m starting to wonder myself.

The wave of copies of me reflects off the opposite building as they head back towards the Lakers. Whoever is holding my arm pulls me out of the crowd and into another building.

“Come on,” she says, dragging me towards the stairs. And then I realize she does not look like me.

“Maud?”

“Of course!” she says, grinning. “Who else would have your back in a situation like this?”

“But how?”

“I saw them follow you from my apartment,” she says, taking four steps at a time. “Wasn’t sure if you noticed. And something about them gave me a bad feeling. So I got some friends together, asked them if they were up for forming a flash mob.”

“But why do they all look like me?” I ask. “How did you do that?”

“They’re actors. Extremely proficient at facial molding. I just had to send them your details and, like that,” she snaps her fingers, “they were you. Or close enough.”

We’re up on the roof now. On the street below, the three Lakers are running from Maud’s replica mob. I stop for a second, jaw dropped, basking in the craziness of it all. But Maud is pulling my arm.

“Come on!” she says. “Wings out. We need to go!”

Chapter 19: Prison

We’re back on the roof of Maud’s apartment block, and I feel safe. Safer, anyway.

“Come on,” Maud says, heading towards the stairs. “Let’s get a drink.”

But I have a new plan.

“Thank you,” I say. “So much! But I have to go. I’ve learned a few things, and now I’ve got to go see my father.”

She is incredulous.

“You need to get inside,” she says. “Have a drink with me. Those guys didn’t look like the type who’d just give up.”

“You’re right,” I say.

“But...”

Almost before I realize what I’m doing, I leap off the roof, heading towards the Citadel. I do not know what I’ll do when I get there, but I can’t just sit still and drink after everything I’ve learned.

“Good luck!” Maud calls after me.

Leaping from roof to roof to hide my movement from the Lakers, I reach the last building before the dome wall. I push off hard, upward and forward. I cover half the distance to the prison before I hit the ground and carefully bounce up again. The ground is uneven, rocky, so at each landing I have to be sure to find a good footing before pushing off again.

Despite the protection of my nanos, an injury would be potentially deadly. Outside the dome there is very little oxygen—Titan’s atmosphere is nearly entirely nitrogen. My nanos can keep my brain oxygenated for an hour or two out here, but if I’m injured, I could suffer brain damage or death before I could get back under the dome. After a few more long jumps, I reach the dark building.

I’ve never really looked at it close up, and I’ve certainly never wondered if I could break in. The pioneers constructed the Citadel from a super dense graphite. There’s no point trying to break through the matte black exterior. I have to enter through the front door and then find my way to my father.

I walk past the guard-droids into the lobby for the second time in two days. The human guard from the day before is not there, replaced by someone who has clearly modified himself to look as intimidating as possible. He’s around three meters tall and has a huge reptilian head with unblinking eyes. His shiny black leather jacket and jeans are covered in metal studs and spikes which match the top of his head.

Any thoughts of getting in by seducing the guard fade away. I stand and stare at him for a moment, before he says, “Come to see your father?”

“Uhh…”

How does he know who I am?

“You can see him. I won’t tell anyone.”

He opens his reptilian eyes wider and lowers his huge snout in what I take to be a conspiratorial gesture. I guess he has no eyelids, or he’d wink.

“OK, thanks,” I say, confused.

Outside my father’s cell, the guard gives me a vast, toothy grin. I almost retch at the smell of his breath.

“One hour enough?” he asks, amiably.

“Sure,” I say, and go in.

Chapter 20: Angel

I stand with my back to the door. My father is looking up at his screen, typing on an old-fashioned keyboard—the kind where you have to press a key to enter a single character.

“Dad,” I say. He turns slowly. He looks at me as if I’m a vision, a phantom, and turns back to his keyboard.

“I didn’t expect you back so soon, Abbie. Didn’t I just see you yesterday?”

“Yes, but Dad, I have to—”

He jumps up from the chair.

“I’m not falling for this anymore. I thought you’d given up.” He seems to be talking to the walls, not me.

“Dad, what are you—”

“I’m not your Dad. You’re just some sick bitch who agreed to be modified to look like my daughter to torment me. You got a lot of it right—but the hair gives it away.

Abbie’s hair is black.”

“No, Dad. It’s really me.” It’s no use explaining to him that I can change the color of my hair at will.

He turns away and ambles back to his keyboard.

I think for a moment.

“Dad. Remember my fifth birthday? Mum had just left for Earth. I was so sad. You told me you’d never leave me. You said you’d be right behind me for the rest of my life. Remember that? And I didn’t believe you, so you told me we were Angelfish. You said Angelfish stick together for life, and that was how we’d always be.”

It takes a conscious effort to dial back my emotional reaction. My father slowly turns in his chair and looks at me; really looks at me in a way I have not seen in years.

“It’s you,” he says.

“Yes, Dad. It’s me.”

He jumps out of his chair and lands right in front of me. He puts his thick arms around me and we hold each other. I let myself feel. I can’t count all the emotions I’m going through, but I’m really feeling them. Sometimes I forget how good it is. But I don’t have time.

“Dad,” I say, nuzzling him as the emotions drain away, “I need to talk to you about something. It’s important.”

“OK, Angel. Tell me.” explain it properly. And then you started working as a Protector, working with that man, your Chief, Schwab.”

I told him about my case yesterday, but he wasn’t listening then. This time, he does listen. I tell him about the murders and my concerns about the Chief.

By the time I finish, he’s not looking at me anymore. He’s looking at the floor.

He nearly spits the name.

“But I can tell you now. I need to tell you now. It’s about why I’m here, why I’m locked up.

“It was the biggest, shiniest thing I’d ever seen: the Goldcrest, the ship we came here on. There were five thousand of us on that ship. It wasn’t the first, and certainly wouldn’t be the last. But as far as I was concerned, it was the only ship there was, or ever would be.

“It was so huge and full of promise. A new world. A new life. I’d had an unhappy childhood on Earth, Abbie. I wasn’t like the other kids, and so they found reasons to pick on me. To begin with, it was just name calling and insults, but it kept escalating.

“When I went to university, I thought I’d left all that behind, but somehow the abuse continued. I buried myself in my work, but I was never happy. After graduation, my parents offered me a new life, and I agreed. So we left home, took some belongings, and boarded the Goldcrest. By the end of the trip my parents still believed we’d made the right decision. But I knew the truth.

Chapter 21: Goldcrest

My father starts to talk.

“I need to tell you what happened. I tried when I was first in prison, I tried so many times. But you were too young to understand, or I didn’t

“Linus Schwab, your precious Chief Protector, was looking for a new life too. One where he could take as much power as he wanted. One in which he could indulge his particular tastes. He’s a sadist, Abbie. The most vicious I’ve come across. The restrictions on Earth strangled his desires. Nanotechnology was making it harder and harder to cause pain. He was just as powerless as everyone else, no way he could get away with his crimes. So he went somewhere where he could start fresh.

“But he didn’t wait for Titan. The ship, being fully automated, didn’t need a captain or crew. And in that power vacuum, it was easy for Schwab to step in. It was subtle at first. He started building a loyal cabal, and once they were in place, there was very little to stop him from taking what he wanted. It was easy to space anyone he didn’t like. He did it a few times, and after that noone challenged him.”

“But Dad,” I say, “what did he do? Did he do something to you?”

“Not me, Angel. I was lucky. I don’t know why. He had his favorites. It wasn’t a sexual thing—he just enjoyed inflicting pain. I don’t know exactly what he did, but he had a way of shutting off people’s nanos to enable their pain signals. And then he would have his fun. Create suffering. It’s what he lived for: the suffering of others.”

I allow a wave of revulsion to wash over me. I retch, trying to keep everything down. I’ve had so much respect for the Chief, for such a long time. It’s hard to reconcile.

“So, now you know his proclivities. Sorry, Angel. I hate to upset you, but you needed to know.”

I nod. Words won’t come.

“A few years after we landed on Titan, I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I rallied people from the Goldcrest to oust him. He had me arrested for treason and threw me in here. I almost had the votes to force him out. I have no doubt he recruited you so he could keep you close, just in case.”

This time I can’t stop myself: I throw up.

Chapter 22: Voice

My hour is almost up. I release a dose of Ultra-clear in my brain. I need to think fast, to figure out how to use these last few moments. A thought strikes me.

“Dad—I’m going to get thrown out soon. I need you to listen to something.”

I play the recording of the call I received yesterday morning. The one that brought me to Clemens’ flat.

“You need to come quickly. There’s been a murder.”

The caller had hung up before I could respond.

My father looks at me, smiling.

“I recognize that voice,” he says.

Chapter 23: Dirt

“I’ve got something for you, Chief,” Laker says as soon as Schwab picks up his phone.

“Good. What is it?”

“Well, she’s pretty clean. It wasn’t easy to find dirt.”

“I warned you.”

“Yeah. But you didn’t warn me about her friends.”

“What friends?”

“Good question. I tried to sort things out on my own, but they got in my way. So I had to do it your way.”

“You found dirt?”

“Not exactly, no.”

“So why the hell are you calling me, Laker?”

“Hold on. I said I didn’t find dirt. But I had a backup plan. I planted a bug on her.”

“Go on.”

Laker played his recording. It’s Abbie, talking to her father.

“Dad, what should I do?”

“I think we have to get rid of the Chief. Kill him if possible. There won’t be a way to touch him legally.”

For once, the Chief is grateful for nanos. Recordings stopped being useful as evidence in legal matters decades before the invention of nano-drones: too easy to fake. So one of the first applications of nanotech was to watermark voices. Everyone’s voice has a unique watermark, injected by their nanos, making it possible to reliably identify a person from their voice, even in noisy environments. These days, a recording like this is incontrovertible evidence.

For the first time in a long while, the Chief smiles.

Chapter 24: Vote

Back at my apartment, I receive a notification: referendum summons. We call our form of democracy “pure” and “direct”, but recently there’s been a tendency for the most important decisions to be made outside the democratic process.

I close my eyes to view the details of this vote. I pull up the evidence. It’s a single audio recording. As soon as I listen, my heart pounds. I slow it, but I can’t help feeling the walls closing in.

Now I understand why it was so easy to get in to see my father. This was Laker’s Plan B. He had the guard let me in so he could gather evidence against me. I should have been more careful. But it didn’t cross my mind that Schwab would stoop this low. And now the prosecutor is recommending my deportation to Earth.

Of course, I’d heard about the state of things on Earth before Laker told me. Billions had died there in the past year. Even nanos can’t protect the populace from the worst effects of radiation. Being sent to Earth would be worse than a death sentence. Almost as bad as my father’s punishment.

Without context, the evidence was damning. It’s likely most people will find me guilty. I need to run.

I leave my apartment, go up to the roof, and fly to the space terminal. Plenty of places to hide around there.

When I land, I find a large metal container—presumably used for storing fuel—and shut myself inside. I need to change my appearance. Unlike Maud’s friends, who can change their appearance in an instant, it is not a quick process for me, and I’m constrained by what I can achieve without fairly invasive surgical techniques. The privacy laws, which usually make my job harder, will be my friend, under the circumstances.

I concentrate on my transfiguration: I turn my hair orange. I make my nose a little larger. My eyes lose their epicanthic folds and I tone my skin a little darker. I wonder if there’s a way to make my face more forgettable. I go for a larger chin and less defined cheekbones, and angle my ears outwards a little. It’s not a perfect disguise, but I won’t be such a close match to my ident card.

I sleep while the nanos complete the transition. During the night, I am wakened by a faint voice in my head.

“Abbie? Can you hear me? This is Cal. I’m establishing a link.”

The voice fades, and I fall back asleep. When I wake up, I assume it was a dream.

Chapter 25: Guilty

The robotic announcer on the morning news reports the verdict. The people of Titan have found me guilty of treason and conspiracy to murder Linus Schwab. I am sentenced to deportation to Earth; I’m on the run and am to be considered armed and dangerous.

Finally, the report replaces my wanted poster with video footage of Maud, sitting fidgety in a small dark cell. The announcer explains that she’s a known associate, and a raid on her apartment led to the discovery of seditious material. That book. She must have reprinted it, or something worse. The robot warns if I don’t turn myself in, they will deport Maud.

This is getting out of hand. I run through the revelations of the past two days. Three men murdered, one of them with an unsavory association to the Chief. My father has proof Schwab is a seriously twisted psychopath. Imprisoned for nineteen years to keep him from revealing what he knows. And now both Maud and I are in danger of being exiled to Hell to further suppress the truth.

What’s next? I need to prove my father’s innocence and the Chief’s guilt. I also need to find who murdered the three men, and what that has to do with the Chief. And I need to make sure they don’t deport both me and Maud. A tall order.

Thanks to my father, I have a big clue regarding the murders. The message I received yesterday morning was from Xavier Clemens, just moments before he was murdered. It’s possible the voice was faked, but without access to court tech I can’t prove it, although my gut tells me it’s genuine. And if it’s real, why would Clemens send a voice message to a Protector just moments before being murdered? And why would his murderer allow him to make the call?

Unless… although I’m finally accepting that the Chief really is a stone cold villain, I don’t believe he murdered Clemens, if only because

I can’t believe he would leave his DNA at the crime scene. I have to assume the murderer left his DNA deliberately and allowed Clemens to call me just before they killed him. Perhaps they trusted I’d make the connection and with my father’s help uncover the truth about the Chief.

So I need to go back to the beginning and figure out who killed Clemens and the other two victims. Talking with their friends, family, and neighbors got me nowhere. And there’s no useful biometric evidence at the crime scenes beyond the Chief’s DNA. There are about three million people on Titan, and right now the only ones I’m certain didn’t commit the murders are me, my father, and the Chief. And there’s still a question mark over Schwab. I need to narrow down the suspects.

But first, I’d better get out of this crate before someone looks in, or packs me on-board an outgoing ship.

I decide to circle the city as high as I can without leaving the dome. After climbing to the top of the space terminal, I push off into the dark. I’m not going anywhere: I just want time to think, while avoiding notice.

There are always a few people flying around above the city, so there’s nothing suspicious about it, but there won’t be enough activity up here to risk running into someone who might know me. Even with my altered appearance, there are plenty of people who’d recognize me, particularly if they’re looking for me.

From up here I can clearly see the honeycomb structure of the city, six-sided buildings with streets zigzagging between them, the buildings identical in height, with the spaceport rising in the center of them. Some say they designed the hexagonal structure for efficiency and resilience. Personally, I’ve always suspected it was a whim of the original architects.

I catch an updraft and it carries me higher until the spaceport is a tiny collection of pale green dots below. Despite the situation, soaring this way provides me with a natural calm. It’s one of the few places where I feel completely disconnected and free.

Which reminds me: I wonder how long Maud has? They obviously designed the news bulletin to give me a sense of urgency. I’m hoping it’s an empty threat, but I have little basis for hope. Now that I understand the Chief’s obsessions, I’m sure he’d be capable of dreaming up a worse punishment than Earth.

As I circle the city hundreds of meters up, I set my mind to the solution. I mark out an everwidening spiral above the port, keeping it in the center of my orbit. Occasionally, I need to flap my wings to add a little lift, but mostly the dome’s wind allows me to keep gliding at a fairly fixed altitude. After a few hours of nano-assisted deliberation, I have a spark of inspiration. A crazy idea, but one that makes sense, and fits the data. I need to test it.

Chapter 27: Risk

I call Clarkson. The Chief wanted him to take over my case, which means I should probably not trust him. But I can’t think of anyone else who can do what I need done. So I take the risk.

He tries to hide how delighted he is to hear from me, the chance to be involved in the biggest scandal he can remember.

“So,” he says. “Where are you?”

“Clarkson, I’m not going to tell you that. And I’m not going to turn myself in. I need you to do something for me. Will you?”

“Depends on what it is.”

I sigh.

“OK. I need you to get the final flexion and extension log for the arm muscles in all three victims during their last seconds before death. Can you do that?”

I know he can do it. The real question is, will he? There’s a second of silence, and then he agrees.

I keep flying while he works. I can stay up here longer, except the turbulence is getting worse. I’m going to have to land soon.

After half an hour, Clarkson calls me with the data.

“It’s pretty wild,” he says. “How did you know to ask for this?”

“Just a feeling. What did you get?”

“Well, the first two victims showed standard defensive arm movements. The third one… Well, as far as I can tell, he was pushing the knife in himself. It looks like suicide.”

Perfect. The pieces of the puzzle are fitting together.

“Thanks Clarkson. That’s great. Can you do one more thing for me?”

“First, tell me, what’s going on?”

“Not yet. Can you find out who Clemens worked with in the last few years? I can’t believe he worked entirely on his own. I know he was doing nanotech research, but I couldn’t find any papers he published. So it’s difficult to see if he collaborated with someone else. Get in touch with the University; maybe they know?”

He knows I can’t do this myself, because I’m wanted. I picture him calculating how helping me will affect his reputation. Or maybe he’ll claim credit, then turn me in to the Chief. I know I can’t trust him completely, but as long as he keeps giving me the information I need, I have no other options.

Chapter 28: Sanger

Dropping to street level, I take a taxi. I tell it to circle the University and hope no-one has set up surveillance for my voice print. I can keep orbiting all day until Clarkson gets me a name.

I only have to wait a couple of hours, during which I have the taxi vary its route around the campus, in case anyone is watching.

Clarkson’s message is just a name: Dr Juliette Sanger.

Sanger has an apartment on campus which doubles as her office. No-one answers my knock, and the door is unlocked, so I let myself in.

It looks as though her apartment is from Earth’s nineteenth or twentieth century. A long, faded leather sofa sits in the middle of the room. There is an eclectic collection of chairs, forming a circle. I pull a few books off the shelves that line the walls—old romance novels sit alongside textbooks on innovations in nanotechnology. I pick one book up to read, but quickly realize I’m out of my depth.

So, I wait, knowing Maud may not have much time left.

Half an hour later, I hear voices on the stairs. Two women enter. Neither seems particularly surprised by my presence.

“Can I help you?” the older woman asks.

“Yes. Dr Sanger: I’m a Protector. I wonder if you’d mind answering a few questions?”

She seems unruffled by the request.

“Of course. Livy, would you excuse us for a few minutes?”

Livy nods and leaves the apartment.

Dr Sanger is mostly unmodified, although her diamond eyes are clearly not her original ones. I wonder if they allow her to read two papers at a time, or read a book without opening it. Both are possible.

“So, how can I help?”

“I’m investigating the death of Dr Clemens, and I understand you knew him?”

“Ah. Yes. So sad. He and I worked together for several years, though not closely.”

“Can you tell me anything about his work?”

“He was a brilliant scientist, but his technique was… flawed. I wish he followed a more traditional approach, but he was obsessed with one topic in particular: mechanisms for the selective suppression of nanotechnology in vivo.”

“Can you explain what you mean?”

“He was trying to develop something, a drug, probably, that would stop the nanos in the human body from functioning. But he didn’t want to stop them all, indiscriminately: He wanted to choose which ones to turn off and do so for a specific duration. Of course, we can, to some extent, control the nanos in our own bodies. I, for example, enjoy the feeling of hunger, and of satisfying that hunger with food. That’s a choice I make. But he was trying to develop a way to do this to another person without their consent.” She grimaces, disapproval clearly expressed on her face.

I nod. This is making sense.

“Do you have any idea why he might have wanted to kill himself?”

“He killed himself? I thought it was murder?”

“We’re not sure. We’re trying to cover all possibilities.”

“I can’t imagine why he would want to commit suicide. And in this case, it seems implausible. He reported breakthroughs in his research just days before his death. He seemed…”

She breaks off, thoughtful.

“Yes?”

“Well, he seemed excited. Like a child before Christmas. As if he’d cracked it. Cracked something big.”

She looks down. I wonder if we’ve both reached the same conclusion.

“Is it possible that he wanted to kill himself in a particular way and developed a drug that would stop his nanos from keeping him alive?”

“Sure,” she says, “why not?” Her electronic eyes bore straight through me. After a moment of thought she nods decisively. “I imagine that’s exactly why he’d do it.”

We sit in silence for a minute.

Dr Sanger draws a deep breath. “Are we done?”

“Yes, of course.”

I get up to leave, but she stops me. “Why?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Why would he kill himself? And why do it like that?”

I sat back down.

“I don’t know for sure, but I believe he wanted to get my attention.”

“What? What have you got to do with it?” She looks at me, incredulous.

“I believe Dr Clemens suffered horrific abuse on his way to Titan and no-one would listen when he reported it. I think he decided that the only way to get the crime taken seriously was to kill himself. And maybe he took the lives of two other men. I don’t know the real reason, but my guess is they were involved in his abuse.”

“What kind of abuse?”

“Chief Protector Schwab tortured him, and many others, on their trip from Earth.”

For a second, I see fear cross her face.

“What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t. I’m sorry if my visit upset you.” No point in outstaying my welcome. “I’ll let myself out.”

Chapter 29: Dot

As I leave Dr Sanger’s office, I turn off my do-not-disturb notification. Two messages appear in my queue, both from Clarkson.

“Abbie, I took another look at the DNA from the Clemens scene. There’s something strange. I think you should take a look.”

In the second message, he is struggling to control his excitement: “You really have to hear this. Call me!”

Once I’m back in my taxi and have set it off on another convoluted goose chase, I call him back.

“What have you got?”

“Oh Saturn, you must see this. I was looking at the DNA from Clemens’ apartment again. It was in a skin sample from the Chief. No one really looked too closely at it, other than to sequence it. I’m not sure why, but I decided to. It is skin, and it really seems to be the Chief’s. But it also contained something else: a nano-dot.”

“How much storage?”

“A few petabytes.”

“Anything on it?”

“Oh yes. A video file. Encrypted, but pretty straightforward AES with a 256-bit encryption key. Didn’t take me long to crack. Watch this:”

He streams the video. I close my eyes to watch it on the inside of my lids.

I see Dr Clemens’ face. I physically jump with surprise in the taxi seat when he addresses me directly.

“Abbie, I hope it’s you watching this. If it is, it means you’re investigating my death, and that you’re being thorough. Good. I need to confess something to you and also give you what I think you need. As you no doubt know, I was on the Goldcrest when it made the journey from Earth to Titan, along with your father, Schwab, and five thousand others. By now, you have probably learned something of the truth about your boss, the Chief Protector. I have never considered another human to be truly evil, but I’ll make an exception for him.

“And, as you’ll soon see, he’s evil, and I’m afraid of what I’ve become. Not long after taking off from Earth, Schwab started building his team, forming alliances, earning trust. Not everyone, of course, just the people he thought would be useful. I didn’t know at the time what he saw in me. When he showed an interest in my work, I thought he was just a friendly guy. I was happy to tell him about it.”

Clemens looks down for a moment, and when he looks up, his eyes are red and there is moisture on his cheeks; he’s crying. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a man cry. He cries, but it’s clear he’s fighting it. I wonder why he doesn’t just take control.

“But then, one evening, he asked me if I could turn off nanos selectively, and during a long discussion I sketched out how it might be done. He immediately told me to develop it. To my shame, I confess I knew what he planned. And I knew it wasn’t for anything good. I didn’t know the full extent of it, but I hold myself culpable. A few months later, I provided Schwab with a small tablet that he could dissolve in liquid. When consumed, it would turn off pain inhibiting nanos. I’m sure you can imagine how he used them. I had no part in any of that, but he made it clear what would happen to me if I ever told anyone.”

He shudders and closes his eyes, remembering.

I’ve made the wrong assumption about Clemens’ motivation. He wasn’t one of the Chief’s victims. He was inadvertently complicit.

“So. Why am I killing myself? Abbie: I need you to take the Chief down. I’ve provided you with all the evidence you’ll need. There are files on this nano-dot. They’re keyed to your biometrics only. The result of decades of my work. I’ve gathered video and audio evidence from everyone I could find. No single item of evidence is completely damning, but taken together, not even the Chief could withstand the full weight of it in court.

“In case you haven’t worked it out, I killed the other two men. Schwab’s confederates, part of his goon squad here on Titan. They were the ones who arrested your father, and Schwab sent them to threaten me into silence. Neither one of them was as evil as the Chief, but they both deserved to die.

“Inhibiting the various nano functions in our bodies was a lot harder than re-enabling pain perception, but I finally managed it. That’s when I knew I was ready. My new drug is programmable and can disable the nanos in a human body selectively. You may have noticed my emotions are no longer under nano-drone control. And I have this knife.”

He holds it up. It’s the same one I saw sticking out of his chest.

“Why don’t I just go public myself? I tried early on, but no-one would listen. Your father tried too, and look where he ended up. But I’m a coward. I am as guilty as Linus Schwab, since I enabled his crimes. But I can’t face the punishment your father endures. And I can see no other way for both me and the Chief to atone for our sins. I must die.

“When I finish this recording, I’ll call you to ensure that you are the one who investigates my death. Then I will stab myself. I don’t imagine it will be pleasant, but unlike the agony your father has been suffering, it will, at least, be brief.

“Now, one last thing that may help. Take Dr Sanger to my lab in the University, open the second drawer. I believe she’ll know what to do with what’s in there. Use it wisely.”

The video ends.

“Did you get all of that?” Clarkson’s face replaces Clemens’.

I nod.

“Clarkson,” I say. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure who I could trust, and I can see no reason why you should be taking any risks for me.”

He shrugs.

“If what Clemens says is true…” He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. I now know I have an ally.

“He said there’s evidence in the nano-dot?”

“Ah, yes. I couldn’t access it. Sounds like you should be able to, though. I’m teleporting it to you.”

“Thank you, Clarkson.”

“No problem. Call me if you need my help.”

Chapter 30: Bench

I knock on Sanger’s door, and this time she answers. She doesn’t look pleased to see me. She tips her head toward her room full of students. I grimace.

“Doctor Sanger, I’m sorry, but I really need your help.”

She closes her eyes, then turns to her students. “All right everyone. Carry on. Livy, take over, yeah?”

Once Sanger’s outside, I ask her if there’s somewhere private we can go.

She leads me into the office next to hers.

“Smithers is on sabbatical at the moment. No one ever comes in here.”

The office is the opposite of Sanger’s. There are two bland paintings on the wall, a table and four hard wooden chairs, and the obligatory printer. Nothing else.

We sit on the chairs.

“I’m going to send you a video. I need you to watch it.”

She frowns, but doesn’t object. After viewing it, she stands up decisively.

“Let’s go.”

I look at her, puzzled.

“To Dr Clemens’ lab. I don’t know what’s there, but it sounds like he wants me to help you.”

Chapter 31: Link

My taxi is waiting for me outside the University. As I step into it, I receive a call from an unidentified source.

“Abbie. I have an encrypted link. Let’s talk.”

The voice sounds like Cal, Dad’s home-built artificial intelligence.

“How are you doing this, Cal? I thought Dad’s cell was completely off-Grid?”

“That’s right. But I found a back door. Arthur’s cell has access to certain utilities within the prison. And one of those—the one the guards use for entertainment streaming— it’s not very secure. Through it, I connected to the main Grid. From there, I’ve set up a secure channel, using onion routing.”

“Do I need to know what that means? What if someone hacks into it?”

“Oh no, it’s quite safe. I’m sending this message to every inhabitant on Titan simultaneously. But for them, it’s encrypted gibberish. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you; but I uploaded a onetime pad into your system. It allows you to decrypt this signal. Any trackers will get lost in the servers. No way to identify its source, destination, or my data.”

Brilliant. And if Cal is as capable as he seems, I believe my plan will work.

“Cal, I’ve got some files I need to send you. Can this channel take a few petabytes?”

“It should, but it might take some time. What’s the data, Abbie?”

“You’ll see.”

I send him the video of Clemens along with the data. It takes half an hour. The taxi continues meandering while we wait.

When it finishes, I tell Cal my idea. “And you believe Dr Sanger understands Clemens’ work well enough?” he asks.

“I think so. No way to test it, of course. But I believe she’s given me what I need. And now all that’s left is for you to do your part.”

“Of course, Abbie. I’m informing Arthur now.”

Chapter 32: Malt

The Chief looks up at me as I walk into his office.

He takes a relaxed slug of whiskey from a crystal tumbler.

“Come to turn yourself in. Have you, Abbie?”

I don’t answer. He gestures with his glass.

“Want some? Over a hundred years old. From Earth.”

He probably printed the entire drink, glass and all, a few minutes ago, but at an atomic level it’s indistinguishable from an aged single malt.

“No, thank you. I’m here to arrest you.”

He smiles. “Oh really? And how do you plan to do that?”

“I know what you did, Chief. What you do…”

He looks confused, but confident, a combination no doubt designed to shake my resolve. “My dear, I don’t know what you mean. Please, do sit down.”

I ignore him.

“I have corroborated, damning evidence of your crimes while onboard the Goldcrest.”

He looks momentarily surprised, then stiffens.

“If you don’t turn yourself in,” I say, “I’ll publish it all. Titan wide.”

“And how will you do that?” he asks, a smile forming on the sides of his moistened lips. “You’re a wanted criminal. All your publication rights have been revoked.”

He stands up and walks over to the window, his back to me, looking towards my father’s prison.

“You know, Abbie, you’re just like him. He thought he could bring me down too. And like him, you’ll suffer for your hubris. I don’t care what evidence you think you have. No one can touch me.” He turns to look at me. “Don’t you understand?”

He sits back at his desk and sips his whiskey.

I tell him about Clemens’ video and about the evidence he gave me. Schwab nods, admiring Clemens’ ingenuity.

“I liked Clemens. He could have been my successor if he stuck with me. But he had too many morals. Science has taken so much away from humanity, so much that brought us pleasure, and he helped me get it back.”

He gives me a quizzical look, as if he’s wondering what I’m going to do next.

“We have opened a new referendum.” I say. “The evidence Clemens collected will be presented to the people of Titan, and they will be asked to determine your fate. My father built an artificial intelligence, and it found a way to escape the Citadel, and gained access to the main Grid. The evidence is being broadcast as we speak.”

He laughs and takes another sip of whiskey.

“Oh dear. Is that your plan? I’m afraid that just won’t work, Abbie. I control the voting system.”

He closes his eyes, opens them a second later.

“There. I just ended the referendum. I decide whether there will be one! No referendum today, Abbie. Sorry.” He smiles obscenely.

I expected he could stop this. The Chief will, of course, make a call for help. I need to act before his goons arrive.

I watch his face, looking for the signs of loss of control. The drug I put in his whiskey should start working at any moment.

His emotions contort his face. First confusion, then fear, and finally anger.

“What have you done?” he shouts.

“Dr Clemens was working on a more general version of the drug he developed. His associate, Dr Sanger, helped me with the last steps. Once it enters the bloodstream, it temporarily disables all nano devices. I imagine you’re starting to lose control now. Soon you’ll be back to your baseline biology. No enhancements. No access to the Grid. You won't have any nanos maintaining your body. And if you suffer some kind of extreme trauma, there’ll be no way to recover. Perhaps you shouldn’t have turned your back on me.”

I pull out my knife. It’s a replica of the one Clemens used. I printed it in the taxi on the way to Schwab’s office. I hoped I wouldn’t need it, but right now I can’t see an alternative.

I jump onto the desk. Schwab tries to fend me off, but his reactions are too slow, his unenhanced muscles too weak. Pushing the knife into his chest is easy. His face turns bright purple. Blood seeps from the corner of his mouth. He tries to speak, gurgles, and collapses back into his chair.

I receive a call from Cal.

“Hello Abbie. The Chief shut down the voting system, but I started it up again. The referendum is now live.”

I hope this vote, unlike most, will lead to some discussion, some real thought. People might actually look through the evidence and discover what kind of person the Chief was. And then, I hope, they’ll approve his execution. They won’t know I’ve already carried it out, and that’s unfortunate. But I don’t think they would disagree once they know the details.

Epilogue

For the first time in nineteen years, my father is free. The referendum went the way I’d hoped, with over ninety per cent voting for Schwab’s execution. Nobody except his bodyguards knows the Chief Protector died before the vote. The Protectorate has already started an investigation to identify his collaborators.

A new election is being held. The next Chief Protector will have vastly reduced powers. A new system of government is being built, modeled on some of the more successful ones from Earth’s history. We will build it on the assumption that anyone can be corrupt.

For now, though, I’m sitting on the roof of my apartment with my father. The deep orange evening sky is full of the green-tinged lights of buildings and buzzing vehicles. I lean my head on my dad’s shoulder and we whisper our hopes for the future.