Satellite Dreams

Copyright Oggbashan April 2021

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Most of this is NOT an account of my real problem-solving with Brigit, but the story of dreams of wishful thinking. It didn't happen. Whether I though it really could? It is very unlikely.

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Part One is 'Brigit'; Part Two is 'Brigit Too'; Part Three is 'Brigit's Babies'; Part Four is 'Christmas Debt'; Part Five is 'Women's Refuge'; Part Six is 'Housing'; Part Seven is 'Addiction'.

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A few minutes ago I had just finished a call from Andrew, my IT manager. The Russians were trying to break into our computer systems again. He had asked me to approve ten hours overtime so that his people could foil the Russians. I had agreed.

I was already angry as I started to read my quality Sunday newspaper. I was getting more and more angry with news reports from around the world. I know I am old but I felt there was too much happening that was wrong. What started my anger was a report that the Chinese had launched four large killer satellites and had lost contact with all of them. Each was designed to destroy other satellites but they covered the whole Northern hemisphere and could strike anywhere on the earth's surface. That was a serious escalation in the space war. But there were other reports that made me nearly as angry.

The paper was shaking in my hands as the Goddess Brigit walked into the room.

"What's annoyed you, Raymond?" she asked as she gave me a cup of coffee.

"Too much. The world is going to pot and I can't do a thing about it. All we have done has had a minor impact locally. That is great but it only affects a few thousand. World events affect billions and yet I can't do anything about them, nor can the whole UK government."

"How good are your computer people at your company?"

It seemed an odd question but Brigit usually has a purpose.

"Very good. We produce machines that have to be hack-proof and always reliable no matter what anyone tries to do to them. Today they are trying to stop the Russians from wrecking our systems. My people will probably succeed because they are good at what they do."

"And you supply some of your equipment to GCHQ?"

"No one is supposed to know that, but as a goddess who can read my mind, I suppose you do know."

"I do. How easy would it be for you to set up a largish satellite disk that few would know about? Where might you put it?"

"It depends how large. A really big one couldn't be hidden."

"About three metres diameter. I could be inside a tent or building with a roof transparent to radio waves."

"Then I'd probably put it inside Fort Inkerman - the women's refuge. I could put up a small marquee to cover it and the fibre broadband to the Fort is so good it could cope with most traffic."

"OK. I think if you could erect and hide the satellite disk, and get your computer people working, with my help we could wreck the Russians' efforts."

"We could?"

"For a start we could stop the Russians from interfering, not just in your company, but throughout the UK and possibly for all the Five-Eyes nations."

I wasn't convinced but I know that Brigit doesn't ask the impossible. After two weeks of sessions of Brigit-worship with Deirdre, many cups of Brigit's Irish coffee, and the hard work of my IT people we had a satellite disk installed and working inside Fort Inkerman. The hardest part had been getting the women's refuge to agree. They had with the proviso that the installation and maintenance of the disk would be done by the women on my IT team.

For the first four days I spent many hours with Brigit deciding on what we needed. I had leased a small unit on the industrial estate, connected to the satellite dish. Inside we had built a sealed chamber protected by a massive Faraday cage. We had bought some very high end servers and they were completely independent of my works. Anyone breaking into that system couldn't affect anything else. All communications between that site and my main one were outside the building by mobile and even then, most contact was face to face and by word of mouth.

My IT guys (and girls) were happy with their new toys. I had spent more than one hundred thousand pounds but as it would protect my company, it was company money, not my own funds. I had also arranged for the main servers to have much upgraded security protection, state of the art and even innovative, helped by advice from GCHQ.

Brigit announced that she would be away for about a week. I was happy because I could see we were progressing and that we might be able, with Brigit's help, to really defend ourselves against the Russian hackers.

Each night I worshipped Brigit between Deirdre's legs before a mutually satisfactory coupling. I was happy even if I still had residual anger against some of the things I was reading in my daily papers.

After a fortnight Brigit reappeared. She gave me three fat folders to pass on to my IT people.

"Raymond? I have been in Russia and China. Their security systems cannot cope with a goddess who can read minds, even Russian and Chinese minds. These folders should give your people enough information to really wreck the Russian and Chinese state-sponsored hackers."

My IT people fell on Brigit's folders as if they were children given the whole contents of a toy shop. Andrew gave the projects to eight of his twelve people.

On the Wednesday afternoon Andrew came into my office to report progress.

"Raymond? Those folders were invaluable but with limitations. We have got into the Russian site. They had a back door which we have disabled and put in six of our own. We could bring them down at any time but I thought that using an improved version of their ransomware would be better. We can shut off everything and ask for bitcoin before they could use any of their computers."

"Go for it, Andrew. I'm pissed off with their frequent attacks."

"OK. They will be out of action within an hour and we will stop them from hacking into any UK site. But the Chinese? They're more of a problem. Although we are competent in Russian, our Chinese skills are inadequate. For some odd reason, their space agency programmed in English, maybe because they stole the technology from the Americans. We have found fourteen flaws in their code and have been able to correct them. Yesterday we tried contacting the nearest satellite and managed to target one of their lasers on some space debris. We didn't DO anything. We think actually taking over the Chinese killer satellites might cause a war. But we could. Shall we?"

"No, Andrew. I think we should leave anything like that to GCHQ. There could be some very awkward repercussions."

"OK, noted. But the Chinese hacking facility is more difficult. Everything is in Chinese. We might be able to degrade their capacity, perhaps by a quarter, but we couldn't stop them."

"But GCHQ might do better?"

"I'm sure they could. How much do we tell them?"

"Everything, but be very careful. I think any information we give them should be handwritten as a hard copy, not anywhere on any electronic system, and delivered by hand."

"I agree. I will write it all out. It will take me more than a day, and then when written we will use the ancient office photocopier that has no link to anything, just to keep a spare."

"Locked in a safe at the industrial site?"

"Yes, Raymond."

"OK. Do it, and tell me what GCHQ says."

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An hour later Andrew was back.

"There are over one hundred Russians staring at screens which demand twenty thousand bitcoins to be paid within 12 hours or we will shut them down completely. If they try to trace us, the input apparently comes from North Korea, and the bitcoin has to paid to a server in Taipei."

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"Good. Thank you Andrew. The bitcoin could be useful but why not more?"

"I thought that twenty thousand was affordable, but if I had set it higher, the Russians would have been more reluctant to pay. But even if they do, we have access to everything they do and could stop them anytime."

Andrew had downloaded everything the Russians had done in the previous month, and set up a historic download of the previous year.

I used my encrypted email to send a message to GCHQ that we would be delivering some 'Top Secret' documents to them by hand on Friday, and sending a massive data file of what we had copied from the Russian servers tomorrow.

The response was that I couldn't classify anything as 'Top Secret'. Only a government agency could do that. I replied that the courier would only hand a sealed package to a security cleared person, and it was up to them to classify it as they wanted but that 'Top Secret' was possibly too low a category. I gave no hint in my emails of what was being sent.

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I had two other reasons to be happy that evening. Anna had reported that Gary, who had been treated for his drug addiction, had bought his motorcycle back from Darren. His drug debt to a dealer had been ended with the dealer's arrest and conviction. Anna said Gary looked fitter and healthier than he had for months.

Months ago, as part of the attack on Christmas debt, I had helped Suhana, an Indian woman, start up a home-based dressmaking business to make Indian wedding garments. As a thank you, she had made a lengha and choli (cropped blouse) for Deirdre and they had been delivered during the day. Deirdre wasn't wholly convinced about the choli because it showed her midriff. But after I had kissed it and praised her flat muscular tummy, she felt less self-conscious about it. But the lengha was enormous. It was one and a half circles of a heavyweight golden fabric, lined with six layers of reused silk saris.

Deirdre perched o the back of the settee and pulled my head back against the lengha. She wrapped it around my upper body, covering me with several folds of the skirt. I was lost in the masses of material. When Deirdre lifted it to cover my head I was plunged into complete darkness struggling to breathe through the layers of silk over my head. I turned around and started feeling for Deirdre's sex. As I worked she held the layers tighter and tighter around my head until I was in real danger of being suffocated. But as I brought Deirdre to several shattering orgasms. As her body shook above me I was able to snatch a breath or two. Suhana's lengha became a frequent part of our love making because inside it all I was aware of was Deirdre's demanding sex in the warm scented darkness.

That night Deirdre and I made slow gentle love and I went to sleep well satisfied with what had been achieved with Brigit's help. The Russians would be unable to attack my company ever again, and if GCHQ used what we had - perhaps the Chinese could be stopped too.

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Andrew reported on Thursday morning that the Russians had paid but were rushing around in Taipei trying to trace the recipient of the bitcoin, which had only been in Taipei for seconds before being switched to several servers around East Asia. The bitcoins had been converted to US dollars and were now sitting in an anonymous but numbered Swiss bank account.

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I didn't expect GCHQ to tell me anything. Although I have a high security clearance, I didn't need to know what they would do with the information supplied by Brigit.

But in the national media foreign pages I saw the result of my IT team's attack on the Russian hacking base. They blamed the Chinese and had expelled some Chinese diplomats, for which the Chinese responded in kind. The Russians would have to re-equip their whole facility, and unless they changed their software drastically, we still had access. We had modified their communications so they could only attack sites based within Russia.

About a week later, the tensions between Russia and China escalated. The Chinese hacking facility had also been neutralised - presumably by GCHQ, but the Chinese were blaming the Russians.

After another week, the Chinese satellites were detected using their lasers to destroy space debris. Over two hundred pieces of junk had been cut up. Again, I suspected GCHQ but apparently the commands had come from the Chinese Space Agency.

That evening, Deirdre was wearing Suhana's lengha again. She likes the swirl of the massive skirt and the feel of the silk linings caressing her legs. At the end of the evening I was buried inside that lengha, arousing Deirdre, who was screaming loudly with delight as she reached more and more orgasms. When we went to bed, Deirdre was still wearing the lengha as she rode me. It was so large that I was covered by it from neck to ankles, and she had pushed the skirt under our bodies so my arms were tightly restrained. As she came, she pulled the hem of the lengha up to cover my mouth and nose as I came into her. I woke up twice during the night and each time, Deirdre claimed my erection, draining me before I went back to sleep. After the last session I became to dream what I might do if I had control of the Chinese killer satellites.

Although the attacks on me and my company had been stopped, I felt that there were many things I could have done if I controlled the Chinese satellites. For example, the Chinese were threatening their neighbours by militarising the South Spratly islands. Could the satellites stop that? Then there was their aircraft carrier and nuclear submarines, threatening Taiwan. And the Russians, nassed on the border of Ukraine. And the Iranians sponsoring fighting across the Middle East and, and...

But I had no ambition to be the ruler of the world, even

if the Chinese satellites gave them that power - if they could control them which they couldn't.

My dream was that I could solve many of the world's problems. I woke up slightly disappointed that I couldn't, but if I had tried, would I have started World War Three?

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That evening, on the internet, I saw what GCHQ had done. Apparently every computer and communication device in and around the South Spratly Islands had received a warning in Mandarin, Cantonese and English that a major seismic event was expected within twelve hours and all personnel and vessels should evacuate for at least fifty miles and expect a tsunami.

When the deadline arrived, the whole South Spratly Island area was hit with a massive earthquake which sank the reefs to three hundred metres below the sea's surface. There was nothing left for the Chinese to build on.

The Chinese knew that it had been caused by their own satellites but who had controlled them? The Russians? They suspected the Vietnamese but Vietnam didn't have the capacity.

A few hours later, all four satellites were moved to re-enter the Earth's atmosphere and crashed into the sea about ten miles off the Chinese coast. Their threat was gone, and if GCHQ controlled the Chinese space agency, the Chinese couldn't replace their satellites.

I felt very grateful to Brigit and GCHQ. That evening Brigit came and she and Deirdre made love to me for hours until I went into a happy dreamless sleep, knowing I was loved.

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