At the time, the Supreme Court probably thought their ruling was the best chance for preserving the Union. Ruling in favor of the state’s rights argument underlying the Sovereignty Compact and the anti-Federal pushback it codified only enabled future conflict. The Coastal Alliances already existed and successfully resisted Federal intrusions throughout the thirties. Kicking the can down the road set the stage for the secession attempt by the regions calling themselves the Inland Northwest. Just like with the original Civil War, the brief conflict never really culminated politically, due to the intervening Fast War. This is why today we have the recrudescent Provisional Inland Confederacy. Once again, history didn’t repeat, but it certainly set the table for inevitable confrontation. – Alfred Whitechurch, political historian, Princeton University

“This is your first trip to a Compact State?” Christine asked as they descended toward Mountain Home Air Force Base in southwest Idaho. Sahar nodded, blushing. They both swayed side to side in their seats as the Air Force C-23 banked sharply and slalomed through the evasive maneuvers for landing military aircraft in hostile environments.

“After I left Dearborn for college, most of the travel I did was back and forth to the coasts, the Mideast, Europe, and back home, dealing with all the deportation craziness.”

The jet landed and they taxied quickly to the waiting escort vehicle.

Sahar continued, looking around at the approaching security gates. “Once my family was reunited back in Michigan, there wasn’t much interest straying too far from the Loyalist states.”

Christine wasn’t really surprised. She hadn’t been out here much, either, and wouldn’t have had any reason if it weren’t for work. Life was easier as a Loyalist.

They cleared another checkpoint, the Army MPs scrutinizing documents closely. At a military facility operating in the secessionist territories, even a high-ranking member of the National Security Council had to prove themselves. The continued presence of Army troops guarding and securing Air Force facilities in the region was another reason for General Anderson’s sensitivity to how the investigation of the breach was handled. Mountain Home was an obvious choice to locate their command post. It still controlled the nuclear facilities in the region, and the demonstrated loyalty of the Blue Valkyries fighter wing during the attempted secession before the Fast War earned it special status.  Most importantly, through Sahar’s stealth contacts with the Entity, they knew that there were still concentrations of Entity nodes in the region. They both surmised that part of the reason the Entity stayed close was to remain near the feral HiMEC, now ranging free throughout the Rocky Mountains. That was another collaboration the national security community only dimly grasped.

It never seemed to get better. All the analysis the intelligence community produced, the essential research, crucial data painstakingly gathered, never seemed to move the policy makers, at least in effective ways to deal with threats. Unlike her work in Eastern Europe, this had very little personal risk. There were no agents of the siloviki, Caliphate, the Megas, or the constantly mutating international criminal syndicates maneuvering to kill field agents like her.

She looked over at Sahar, young and relatively sheltered despite her family’s early travails with anti-muslim oppression, but so brilliant. Teasing out the structure, operations, and intentions of the Entity was perfect for someone like her. The Entity didn’t seem to care and had never made an aggressive move against the government, at least that they were aware of. It remained opaque and generally unresponsive, except when interactions served its interests in some way. Like now. Whatever connection Sahar had, and like any good operative, she held her sources closely, it was paying off. Still, no one was above suspicion, her ambitious mentee included.

Once inside the perimeter, an Air Force Colonel in a flight suit strode forward, hand extended.

“Welcome to Mountain Home, Ms. Bilyk. Regina Staley. General Anderson sends his regards and instructs me to ensure you receive our full support.” Christine nodded, pleased to see the expected follow through from the NSC meeting.

“Col. Staley. Thanks for accommodating us. This is my deputy, Sahar Burhan.” Following Col. Staley’s lead, they entered a building.

Mountain Home remained one of the few bases for human-piloted fighters, currently operating in hybrid units with the growing fleet of autonomous systems. They also worked on the combined arms testing ranges for coordinating with comparable Army systems. Proximity to the rebellious secessionists was also a non-trivial reason for such a large collection of military assets and the displays of force training entailed, in addition to reassuring skittish Canadians and the European Defense Forces stationed across the border.

As they strode down the corridor, Col. Staley said, “I’d like you to inspect the facility we have set up for you to ensure we’ve met your requirements. I understand circumstances have changed?”

“Yes. It’s becoming clear this is primarily a cyber incident. We’re coordinating closely with AF CYBER in San Antonio, but I still want eyes on the ground here to assess any connections to local groups. There’s a growing consensus that international actors are not our primary concern.”

Col. Staley gestured for them to enter a pair of secured double doors. They passed through a foyer into a modest command center, already lightly staffed. Along the walls were the requisite array of large displays, half of them dark, where the AI supervisors sat. Long tables piled with computer equipment and smaller displays faced the big screens. Techs ran wiring to equipment and Air Force personnel already manned several stations.

“My aide will get you badged up, logged in, and show you the rest of the facilities. Can you let me know which of my staff you’ll need, and let’s set a time for an initial briefing.”

The colonel’s brisk efficiency was refreshing. Christine nodded as she looked around the room, assessing the layout. Sahar shared her needs with the aide, who nodded and took notes on a tablet. Christine turned back to Col. Staley.

“One other thing: is there an adjacent secure room where my team can work separately? This is a little too open.” Col. Staley seemed prepared for the question. 

“We’ll ensure you can work undisturbed. We have an adjoining conference room over there. We can give your team access to sweep it and secure it as you deem necessary.”

***

Christine and Sahar sat at the small table in the conference room. Their security team finished installing the masking and surveillance equipment while they were in the briefing. Christine would make sure the team received accolades for their quick work.

“Okay, tell me the rest,” she prompted Sahar, sitting across from her.

Sahar bobbed her head, jostling her dark curls.

“The Entity is concerned about several things. I don’t understand yet how they are connected. The first is the breach. They continue offering assistance assessing the manner in which the StratCom systems were compromised and seek involvement with ongoing surveillance of any further intrusions. I’m still holding them off on that. I don’t understand the nature of their interest, or why they would risk entanglement with such a serious national security incident. Their cooperation doesn’t necessarily mean they aren’t involved. They may be playing a larger game.”

Christine agreed, pleased that Sahar correctly anticipated her response. Letting the Entity inside military security systems was out of bounds, and she liked Sahar’s skepticism.

“Second, they are also aware of the civilian contact with a HiMEC in Bonner’s Ferry that we picked up this morning.”

“Where is that?”

“In the northern panhandle, not quite 600 miles from here.”

“Connection?”

“Unclear, but it’s unusual behavior, given their strict rules for their own kind.”

“And the third thing?”

“A missing girl.”  Sahar paused. “Not just any girl. She’s a Shank. Michelle’s daughter. They are extremely interested in that. More than anything else.” 

Christine knew exactly who Michelle Shank was, one of the people at the center of the escape of the HiMECs, the grendels, and the revelation of the role of the Entity and its collaboration with Dr. Bruno Abrams. The media attention on Dr. Abrams, the scapegoat in the immediate aftermath, and Michelle’s connection to him created the focal point of the violent persecution of anyone associated with the grendels or the Entity. 

“What do you have on her?”

“Bina Thakur, daughter of Anirudh Thakur and Michelle Shank. Must have been born at home, there’s no birth certificate or any publicly available data trail. I was only able to make the connection because of her enrollment in a summer camp when she was three years old. During the quiet time before the attempted purge. After that, they went to ground.”

“Do we have reports in our systems of a missing girl?”

Sahar shook her head. “No reports, no chatter, nothing. I’m looking hard. I’ve made several requests for enhanced domestic surveillance privileges, but that’s taking some time.”

“So how does the Entity know? Why do they think she’s missing?”

“Not clear. But I believe it’s legit.”

Christine mulled this new information. Although the connections were unclear, it only strengthened her intuition that the Entity was at the center of this problem, but it didn’t make sense. Why would the Entity meddle with nuclear weapons? Why now? Of all the things they’d caught the Entity probing, weapons and military equipment were never subjects of interest. It was always resources for their own survival, protecting the grendels, or knowledge, general, or specific to their ongoing genetic engineering projects. The specifics of those remained opaque so far. Michelle Shank, her daughter, nuclear weapons, unusual HiMEC behavior: how were these related?

“Why do you always assume the worst about the Entity?” Sahar suddenly interjected. Christine considered the reasons, noting once more Sahar’s concern about her attitude toward the Entity. 

“It’s complicated. I think the short answer is I’m deeply suspicious of anything with centralized control. The first thing that comes to mind when I hear ‘groupmind’ is the way the Russian disinformation destroyed my family, and almost destroyed this country. When people stop thinking for themselves, or allow others to think for them, only bad things happen.”

“What happened with your family?”

Christine hesitated, unsure of how much to share.

“We lived outside Zaporizhia, then moved to the Donbas just before the invasion. My father didn’t want to, but my mother was adamant. Once the war really got going, we were stuck.  My little sister and I, we were too young to do anything or understand, but my brother and my father…”  Christine stopped, unused to discussing the difficult subject. Still, getting her subordinate to understand why the stakes were so high with any dealings with the Entity compelled her.

“My brother joined the atesh, once they were organized enough in our area. My father tried to stay out of it. My mother became a collaborator, openly supportive of the orcs. It was very difficult. My parents fought all the time. All around us, people had their property confiscated, thrown out of their homes, abducted, murdered. My father tried to protect us, keep us out of it, but it was impossible. Meanwhile, my mother was just soaking up the Russian lies, going further and further down the rabbit hole. I remember my father yelling over and over, “That’s just not true!” but he couldn’t break through to her.”  She paused, remembering her father’s tears and her mother’s stony face.

“Then it all fell apart. Someone killed my father, murdered, and it could have been anyone: the resistance, because he wasn’t openly supportive, the Russians, the militias because of some deal gone bad, some friend of my mother’s who didn’t like what she said about him.”

“Your mother? She might have…”

Christine shook her head. “I don’t know, but it was so crazy, anything was possible. You just didn’t know who to trust. Anyway, after my father was murdered, things got a little bit better for us for a while, I never knew for sure why, but I had my suspicions. We had a little more food, a few more luxuries. Then my little sister disappeared.”

Sahar nodded. “That’s why you had us working on the repatriation data for so long.”

“That was part of it. I hoped she was just one of the ones the orcs just transferred to Russia for adoption. But I don’t think that’s what happened.” 

They both fell silent, leaving unspoken the horrific fate of the abducted children who were often sold and bartered into sex slavery, scattered via the dark networks of criminal gangs, ending up in unmarked graves across the world.

“That’s when I decided I had to leave. I made my way to the lines, was able to slip through, and started working for the resistance. At first, they had me running errands, but I was good, they gave me more responsibility, and that’s how I ended up in this business.”

The compression of that period of her life omitted many traumatic details that she’d always held back. She and Sahar had reviewed her professional life many times, part of Sahar’s ambitious career planning, trying to emulate her mentor in any way she could. Until now, she kept her family out of the story. During these conversations, Christine always circled back to the unique serendipity of her journey, being in the right place at the right time, or in some instances, like Batumi, in the wrong place at the right time. Her path from field operative to analyst to senior administration was probably impossible to replicate, due to the never-ending culture divide between operations and analysis.

“Do you think those early experiences may have biased you to see threats everywhere?”

Christine smiled at the naïve presumption of her subordinate, an endearing American trait, that innocent approach to uncomfortable truths.

“I know the Entity is not the Russians, or anything else we’ve ever encountered. Just like we keep telling the policy makers, this has never happened before in recent human history. If the Entity really is the emergence of a new, competing intelligent species, evolution tells us this is a very dangerous time.”

“But couldn’t they just as easily be an ally? Maybe the relationship could be cooperative.”

Christine remembered the academic conference she and Sahar attended, sitting discretely in the back listening to the academics arguing with each other about the nature of the Entity and what kind of symbiosis was possible, given the little they knew. 

“Remember what the guy from Cambridge said about transitions in symbiotic relationships?  That until two organisms were clearly in a mutually beneficial situation, they were one environmental change from wiping each other out.”

“What about the Georgetown lady and Kinji’s multispecies collaborative co-evolution? Maybe that’s where we’re headed. You always gravitate to the dark view.”

Christine nodded. “I’ve earned it. How many times have we warned about something that they ignored? Not just us, but going back through history. Denial is a powerful thing. It’s our job to keep ringing that bell.”

“But everything isn’t always a threat. Sometimes new things are opportunities.”

“Perhaps.”

She appreciated the check Sahar put on her own negative first assumptions. She enjoyed being challenged and knew it was an important part of sound analysis and decision making.  But it always ended up with these inconclusive conversations.

It wasn’t just history that kept Christine grounded in her jaundiced view of the world. The strike in Batumi – her operation, her decision, that killed dozens of civilians, was an inflection point in her career. She received awards for interdicting the transfer of the engineered virus, one that produced poneratoxin, the most potent known pain agent. A simple respiratory infection turned into crippling waves of burning pain all over the body, the perfect terror weapon. Despite the accolades, and her vindication in the hearings blame game, she knew that her decision to call for the strike was a bad one due to incomplete information.

When she was reassigned out of the field, she pushed for a transfer to an analyst position, still relatively rare despite the efforts through the years to bring the DI and DO into better alignment. Her worldview evolved further as she saw how her operations colleagues always pushed to skew the analyst’s conclusions toward a decision to intervene – kill someone or blow something up. The analyst’s inherent skepticism about the certainty of their conclusions was an important check, but often they were looking over their shoulders for the missing detail while operatives like her plunged ahead. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

The Emerging Threats office was another attempt at a unified office, bringing operations and analysis together. Predictably, the operations people soon drifted away, lacking anything to actually do given the amorphous and evasive nature of the Entity. The analysts loved it. Their biggest challenge was tracking a new thing, distributed across the globe. During her time as head of the unit, Christine worked to remove roadblocks for her staff to give them everything they needed, their demands for all-source access resented by the sister intelligence gathering agencies. Then her antagonist Senator Connelly was appointed CIA Director and Christine made her move to the NSC.

Sahar took a deep breath, steeling herself for her next question. “How do you think this work, and maybe that approach, impacts someone’s personal life? The balance, relationships, trust. I worry about that.”

“It’s not easy. It takes a toll.” Christine’s face hardened. “Let’s get back to work.”

Sahar’s mouth hung open for a moment, then she blushed and looked away. An awkward pause became uncomfortable. Christine broke the silence.

“Do you feel like you are getting the whole picture from your Entity sources?  That these three issues are really the most important? Are we being fed and managed?”

Sahar shook her head vehemently, frowning. “I triple check and corroborate everything. So far, this seems to be it. I do get the sense that they, it, is, I don’t know, agitated. Disturbed in some way?”

“Remember, manage the asset, so the asset isn’t managing you.”

Sahar nodded, but Christine again sensed a hint of evasiveness. She leaned forward and looked her in the eye.

“You’re doing a great job with this, Sahar. These are good questions and you should keep asking them. However, the stakes with the nuclear facilities are too high to dismiss the negative scenarios without a lot more data than we currently have. So far, we’ve been very lucky that all the other nuclear powers haven’t responded to this, for whatever reason. Find the mother. If there’s a connection between those things, Michelle Shank will be important.”

Sahar nodded. “I’ll get on it. I’m going to get a bite to eat. Can I get you something?”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

Sahar gathered her belongings and headed to the base cafeteria, asking directions along the way. In a long empty corridor, she took out her device and opened an encrypted channel.

We’re here,  Sahar messaged.

Things are moving quickly. I’m with the mother.

How much can I share?

Just what we discussed.

They are silent about everything else.

I’m not sure what is going on.

I can’t wait to see you.

I want it too, but we must be careful still.

I don’t trust your superior.

I understand. I’ll be careful.

It’s for both of us.

I know.

NEXT