Colony by Benjamin Cross (best way to read books .TXT) 📕

“A bonus, nothing more.”

Peterson found himself speechless once again.

Volkov: “I see that your insight stretches only so far.”

Given the circumstances, the remark packed a disproportionate sting. If Volkov hadn’t had ten billion gees and a loaded pistol, Peterson was certain he would’ve swung for him. Instead he swallowed his anger. “So, what? You just needed a little extra excitement in your life or something? Where the hell do I fit in to all of this?”

“You are the reason why I no longer have to worry about the interference of the Arctic Council in my affairs,” Volkov replied. “You are the reason that the truly state-of-the-art Albanov II will arrive from my dockyard near Murmansk, fully equipped and fully staffed within the month. You are the reason why construction of the Harmsworth Gas Processing Plant will begin this year, rather than in ten years’ time when every little fish and flower has been removed to safety.” He paused then added, “You do not merely fit into all of this. You are the reason for it, and I thank you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

A shadow seemed to pass over Volkov’s face. “Did it not strike you as odd that an American citizen was allowed to get within a thousand miles of this project?”

“No, it didn’t,” Peterson responded. “The Cold War’s over, Volkov. Wake up and smell the concord, would you? Your scientists and ours have been collaborating peacefully for years. The world’s moved on.”

Volkov dragged out a sigh. “The roots of political enmity run deep, Mr Peterson, and the peace between our nations remains fragile as ever. Just look at the recent unpleasantries in Ukraine.”

Peterson rolled his eyes. “So what’s your point? That super-powers don’t trust each other? Tell me something I don’t know.”

“The point is that by allowing foreigners of any nationality, let alone an American, onto one of our most sensitive installations, Russia has made a massive concession to the will of both the Arctic Council and the United Nations, and a progressive leap in terms of Russian-US relations. We have demonstrated our openness and willingness to engage in international cooperation in the responsible exploitation of the Arctic. The Harmsworth project was to be a united flagship, spearheaded by tolerance, the first step in a peaceful partnership that would have seen harmony in the Arctic, rather than a hostile smash-and-grab.” He levelled the full weight of his gaze at Peterson, that hideous grin reblossoming. “And you, my American friend, have quite literally blown it.”

Peterson’s heart sank as Volkov’s words hit home. But before he could protest, Volkov went on in that same stomach-churning tone. “Following this unprovoked attack on our national infrastructure, G&S will, of course, be withdrawing our participation from all international initiatives concerning energy procurement in the Arctic. A Russian team will be commissioned to complete the Harmsworth assessment to the satisfaction of my associates at the internal energy ministry. Russia’s affairs will be firmly back in Russian hands, and the company will enjoy an estimated cost saving in excess of twenty billion rubles.”

“And how exactly are you going to prove what happened?” Peterson asked, trying to steady his voice. “What evidence have you got that the explosion wasn’t caused by a systems failure? Sabotage by one of your own? Hell, how could you possibly prove that it wasn’t somebody smoking where they shouldn’t’ve been?”

“A sensible question,” Volkov sneered. “Not that a Federation commission would need much convincing of a foreign terror plot, but several hours of incriminating CCTV footage, starring no less than yourself, has already been uploaded to a secure server awaiting submission to the inquiry. This should satisfy the curiosity of the international community. Your own government will, of course, deny any involvement, and they will no doubt enjoy popular support. Yet they will face some awkward questions when your previous terrorist activities – your assault on your own government’s Barranquitas nuclear facility, for example – are also publicly disclosed and they are reminded that the vetting process for the Harmsworth assessment was largely an internal affair.”

Peterson couldn’t control himself any longer. On impulse, he strode towards Volkov. “You crazy son of a bitch! Are you trying to start World War Three?” He felt a crushing pain radiating through his chest as a kick landed in his sternum. He stumbled backwards and dropped to the floor, winded.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Mr Peterson,” Volkov snorted, advancing on him. “You are doing a very good job of lowering yourself in my estimations.” He peered down, his eyes wide and emotionless. “Besides, Cold War Two would seem the more likely outcome, wouldn’t you say?”

2

Peterson closed his eyes. How could things have gone so wrong and so quickly? How could he have been so stupid?

The pain in his chest was nothing compared to the guilt and despair that he felt in that moment. There was no Finback. There was no cause. There had only ever been Ptarmigan, the misguided puppet. He had been one hundred goddamn per cent duped! Manipulated into committing an act so heinous for a cause so offensive to his own convictions. And that was the pit that he really couldn’t swallow; far from helping to prevent the ruin of the Arctic, his gullibility had actually kicked it into overdrive. Not to mention the damage it could do to the spiralling relations between Russia and the west. The more he thought about it, the faster his sense of self-loathing turned to indignation, and then to fury.

Struggling for breath, he pulled himself up into a kneeling position. Volkov’s pistol was aimed directly at his face, but in that moment it might as well have been a steak sandwich. “You piece of shit, Volkov. You talk about Russia as if you’re it. As if you somehow embody a nation of hundreds of millions of free-thinking souls. But that’s not what this is about. Russia’s got nothing to do with it. You’ve got nothing to do with Russia.