Don't Mind Me

If there was a Venn diagram of invisible jobs, real jobs that sound fake, and jobs that keep diplomacy running, Kina’s job would fall dead center, in the overlap of all three circles. As a Security Threatcaster and Wargamer, it was her job to first, know and understand the physical, political, and socioeconomic climate and circumstances at play. Then, using that knowledge, game out every likely scenario to a given confidence level, and plan contingencies for each.

Kina usually planned for explicit scenarios that were within a fifty percent or higher confidence level, and an overall, “in all other cases” plan. The brief on this one, though, was that anything above a five percent confidence level needed contingency plans.

Things that helped were the extensive surveillance already in place, along with a well-armed, well-trained security force, and reserves that could be assembled in advance and ready to deploy at a moment’s notice.

There were, however, things that made contingency planning more difficult. The relative insecurity outside the Galactic Union Hall, multiple entry and exit points to secure, and the sheer volume of traffic through GU Hall. Kina thought the most difficult to plan around, though, were the officials from other star systems and empires recognized by the GU.

She’d been charged with ensuring that the vote for Wornan Reach sovereignty and autonomy go forward without any harm to the Wornan Reach delegation. Unspoken, of course, was that the Federation of Human Systems delegation remain unharmed, as they were paying the bill for all of this.

Another stated goal was that, regardless of the result of the vote, it not devolve into a situation that would only be resolved by war. Harsh words, economic sanctions, even public denouncements were fine, as long as they would not result in shooting.

Between that explicit goal and the five percent confidence request, Kina had been forced to develop a set of plans that she couldn’t share with the FHS delegation. If the GU voted against the petition and the Empire of the All-Sensing Antenna maintained the systems of the Wornan Reach as vassal states, there was a better than nine percent chance that the FHS would want to declare war.

Better that they were rounded up “for protection” as soon as the vote was finished and rushed to chambers where they could cool down than let them speak. They would not, of course, be the only delegation treated as such. In fact, there were orders already drafted to be disseminated to the security forces outlining which delegations would be immediately rounded up and taken to their chambers. Which groups would be “protected” depended on the outcome of the vote.

“Where’s the Wargamer?” a voice bellowed from the hallway.

Kina recognized the voice as belonging to the reptilian-looking commander of the GU security force, Sarthos. “In here, Chief.”

Sarthos entered, his two-meter frame almost as high as the door, while being whip-thin. “Are you prepared to brief the staff?”

“I’ll leave that to you,” she said. “If you could shut the door, I’ll show you what we’re working with.” She offered him a seat next to her at the table she was using as a makeshift desk and prepared the tablet she’d be leaving with him.

“These are the scenarios, most likely to least, listed here,” she pointed to the menu on the tablet. “The response plans are directly linked to each. I’d recommend you and your top lieutenants get familiar with all of them.”

“Why shouldn’t I just pass this around to all the teams?”

“Here, at nine-point-four-three percent confidence.” She let him read it through. “I won’t be making this, or any of the other protection plans known to any of the delegations. I don’t want to influence their vote or let anything leak that could jeopardize security for the Wornan Reach delegation or the FHS.”

He swished his tail. “Understandable. I’ll keep this to just those I need to call the orders out, and let the security teams know that they’re on high alert, and nothing else.”

“What time will the reserves check in?” she asked.

“They’re trickling in, ones and twos, from now through the middle of the night. Less chance of notice.”

“Are you sure you’re not a threatcaster yourself?” Kina laughed. “Good move, though. Canceling public tours and setting a clear security zone in the commons is already enough notice that something big is happening.”

“No way. I might be able to foresee this one, ‘Cartinian delegate intoxicated, reveals details of FHS - Cartinian - Wornan trilateral talks.’” Sarthos shook his head. “How did you come up with that, and with a what … eighty-four percent confidence?”

“Elder Brinthia is a leaf-chewer and usually shows up to GU hearings at least half zonked.” She shrugged. “From there, it’s easy enough to find out he has loose lips — er — a loose beak, when intoxicated.

“While he hasn’t been part of those talks, which is a good thing, it’s safe to assume that he has been briefed on them, as the head of Cartinian Inter-Stellar Relations.”

“What kind of AI do you use to come up with these scenarios?”

Kina pointed at her head. “Not AI, just plain, ol’ human cognition, imagination, and the ability to come up with ways to throw a wrench into any plan.”

“And the percentage confidence, does that pop right out of your imagination as well?” he asked.

“No, that comes from the generalized forecaster AI that’s used by businesses and government agencies all over the galaxy.” She snorted. “It’s not a real AI, just a large data parser that can be trained on a dataset, in this case, recordings and minutes of every GU meeting for the past hundred standard years.”

“And from that it can determine how likely Brinthia is to squawk his beak?”

“Yes, or at least close enough.”

Sarthos continued to browse through the eight-hundred-plus scenarios and their associated plans. “Do you always plan out for such unlikely contingencies?”

“No, just this time. The FHS delegation asked for contingencies for everything down to a five percent confidence. Usually, clients only ask for those down to sixty or maybe fifty percent likelihood.”

A knock at the door caught their attention. Sarthos turned off the tablet and stood, while Kina opened the door. “Yes?”

Outside the door stood a small creature, covered in downy fur, with large, luminous, nocturnal eyes, a sinuous body with six motor limbs and four grasper limbs, and floppy ears that reminded Kina of a poodle.

“I was told the security chief was in here?” The creature’s voice was melodic, somewhere between singing and whistling.

“Right here,” Kina said, letting the creature in. “You must be from the Wornan Reach delegation.”

“Yes, I am Matriarch Spista. Are you the head of security?” she asked.

“No, that would be this fine gentleman right here.” She motioned to Sarthos and turned to him. “I believe you have everything you need. Check for Wornan Reach delegation arrives early and unannounced, at somewhere around fifty-two percent confidence. You’ve got the playbook now.”

“Oh,” Spista said, “a pleasure to meet you, Security Chief Sarthos; Turinakian if I’m not mistaken.”

Sarthos nodded. “There’s no need to be formal with me, madam. You’re the VIP here.”

“Not really,” she said. “And who are you, human?”

Kina smiled as she opened the door to leave. “I’m not that interesting. Don’t mind me.”