“Are you ready?” Romanova asked, knocking on the door.
“Just about,” he replied, stepping back into the cabin. Romanova scanned him with a critical eye, and he asked, “Do I pass inspection?”
“Barely. Though given the circumstances, I suspect Admiral Forbin will make allowances.”
“What’s all of this about, anyway?”
“You will be briefed in a moment.” She gestured at the carryall, and asked, “Do you have any other baggage? Anything that needs shipping?”
Shaking his head, he replied, “I’ve been crewing the interstellar freighters for a long time, Lieutenant. Out there you travel light, or you don’t travel at all.” Kicking the battered bag, he said, “Forty kilograms, not counting the clothes I was wearing.”
Romanova pulled out a tablet, sliding her fingers across the touchscreen, and said, “It will be taken up to the ship, and placed in your cabin.”
“Ship?”
The first trace of a smile crossed her lips, and she replied, “The Admiral will be briefing you herself. There seems little point in spoiling the surprise.”
“As you say. What do you do around here?”
“Until this morning, I was the Admiral’s Aide. And to answer your next question, yes, we will be serving together. Fortunately, I have learned not to pay too much attention to first impressions. Too often, they can prove misleading.”
“I have the distinct impression that I was just insulted, Lieutenant.”
“If I had chosen to insult you, Mr. Mitchell…”
“Mitch, for God’s sake. We’ve both got the same rank, and there aren’t any senior officers around. I hope.”
Ignoring his interruption, she said, “If I had chosen to insult you, Lieutenant Mitchell, you would know it.” The buggy slid into position beside the Ministry Dome, and the airlock locked with the docking hatch, the double doors sliding open. “If you would follow me?”
The two of them walked down the long corridor that followed the perimeter of the dome, guards snapping to attention as they passed security hatches, one after another. Finally, they reached the end of the passage, and Romanova tapped in a code to open the door, leading the way inside. Four other officers were waiting for them, all similarly attired, the familiar face of Admiral Forbin at the head of the table. Sitting next to her were a pair of civilians, an old man Mitchell vaguely recognized, and a young woman whose eyes were darting around the room, as though she was looking for a way to escape.
“Lieutenant Jack Mitchell,” Romanova said.
“Reporting as ordered, ma’am,” Mitchell added, standing to attention and snapping a salute.
A young, beady-eyed officer looked up, a sneer on his lips, and said, “At least we can start the meeting now. Some of us know the meaning of punctuality.”
“I’m afraid the laws of celestial mechanics can’t be broken, Lieutenant,” Mitchell replied. “Forty minutes ago, I was in high orbit.”
Raising a hand, Forbin replied, “You may take your seat, Lieutenant, and welcome back to the Guard. All the paperwork for your return to service is being processed now, though there will be a few forms for you to sign after the meeting. Lieutenant Romanova will see to that.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said, as the two of them took their seats.
“It’s been a long time, Lieutenant,” Forbin said. “Not since Proxima Centauri, I believe.”
“I think so, Admiral,” he replied, vaguely remembering her as a Commander assigned to an outer fleet base, ticking off another box on her path to promotion.
“May I introduce Commander Solomon Ikande,” she said, gesturing to a short, dark-skinned man whose sharp eyes ran over Mitchell, as though boring into his soul. “Lieutenant Paul Hoffmann, and I believe you have already sparred with Lieutenant Fitzroy.”
Another member of the Families. That explained much.
“Admiral,” Fitzroy began.
“Lieutenant Mitchell,” Forbin interrupted, “has spent the last fifteen years on the frontier, in extrasolar space. He is here because his experience will be of vital importance to our mission.” Looking around the room, she said, “Everything you are about to hear is classified at the highest level, and none of it is to be discussed outside. Any information leak at this stage could be a strategic disaster.” She looked at Fitzroy, and added, “If the Outer Worlds Coalition finds out what we are planning, the consequences could be incalculable.” She paused, then asked, “What do you know about the sleeper ships?”
“Launched right after the invention of the slow hyperdrive,” Hoffman volunteered. “Designed as last-ditch colony ships, intended to establish a settlement in a single shot. The last left Earth just before the Last World War, the fourth, I think. Three of them have been found, but the fourth…”
“We think we’ve found it,” Forbin replied. “Miss Thiou, I think the floor is yours.”
The young woman looked nervously around, then began, “The destinations of all four sleeper ships were classified, then lost during the fighting that ended civilization on Earth. We’ve found three of them, two of them wrecks, the third with a small settlement on the verge of extinction. The survivors were rescued by a ship out of Triton, so we don’t have many records on them, but…”
“The fourth, please,” Forbin said.
“The fourth, Challenger, was launched by the United States two months before the war. It was the most advanced of them, the most likely to succeed. I’ve found evidence that suggests they were heading to Epsilon Indi B.”
“That’s occupied by the Coalition,” Fitzroy said.
“Not quite,” Mitchell replied, shaking his head. “They’ve got a research station orbiting the main star, but I’m not sure anyone’s ever visited the companion. It’s a long way from the primary, and there’s not much there.” Frowning, he added, “It seems an odd target for an interstellar expedition. There are far better prospects for settlement within range.”
“It’s possible they were planning to refuel, and push on to a more distant destination,” the older man replied. Mitchell finally placed him, Professor Aliyev, once an instructor at the Academy, now the Chief Scientific Advisor of the Ministry of Space. Another member of the Families, though only by marriage. “The governments that launched those ships were somewhat paranoid.”
“If the ship is intact,” Thiou pressed, “then accessing the database would be a historian’s dream, would answer questions we’ve had about…”
“We’re launching an expedition to find a history book?” Fitzroy asked. “Admiral, I’m sure…”
“No, Lieutenant,” Forbin snapped. “We’re launching an expedition to find a lost colony. If they were successful, if their mission proceeded as they hoped, then we’re looking at the only major extrasolar settlement. You all know the current strategic situation. We’re not calling it a war, but that’s the best way to describe our relations with the Coalition. If a major out-system colony exists, then it must be brought into the Commonwealth. Peacefully if possible, by force if not.”
“Does the Coalition know about our discovery?” Ikande asked.
“I’m afraid we don’t have a clear answer on that, Commander. One of their agents attempted to grab the information Miss Thiou uncovered, but we’re uncertain whether he was working alone. We are acting on the assumption that they are aware of at least the discovery of the sleeper ship, even if they don’t know the details.”
“And technically,” Hoffman said, “we’re going to be searching Coalition territory for the ship.”
Glancing down at her tablet, Forbin said, “That’s why we’re sending a warship, rather than a civilian research team. Our engineers have brought Endurance out of mothballs for the job. We can’t spare one of our regular ships, but I think a Scout Cruiser would be the best choice anyway.”
Frowning, Hoffmann replied, “I served on Endurance on her last tour, ma’am. She’s badly behind the state of the art. If we could have some time for upgrades…”
&nbs
p; “You will be departing in thirty hours, Lieutenant,” Forbin said. “Your time on that ship is the reason I have selected you as Communications and Executive Officer. Lieutenant Fitzroy will act as Tactical officer, Lieutenant Mitchell at Navigation, and Lieutenant Romanova will be your Security Officer.”
And, Mitchell realized, the Admiral’s personal representative on the mission.
“Thirty hours?” Ikande asked. “It will be extremely difficult to complete our preparations in so little time. Simply loading stores…”
“Our orbital teams are working around the clock to prepare you for the mission. Ostensibly, you’re heading out to 61 Cygni on a proving flight, testing a new life support system. You can brief your crew as soon as you enter hyperspace, but not before.” Looking around the room, she added, “I have issued you with sufficient supplies for eight months, the maximum capacity of the ship. You should be back from Epsilon Indi in two, but assuming Professor Aliyev is correct in his assumptions of Challenger’s mission profile, I wanted you to have options. Commander Ikande, the mission is yours. Carry it out by any means necessary. If there is a settlement, it cannot be permitted to fall into Coalition hands.”
“And if we find nothing?” Ikande asked.
“Then we have lost the services of a ship we can spare for a few months, Commander. Nothing significant. Though I would hope at least that we would find some valuable historical data, something that our public relations teams can make use of. Not to mention there are several Senators interested in the history of those times, and we might be able to obtain increased appropriations through the indulgence of their whims.” She glanced at Thiou, and said, “My apologies.”
“Not at all, Admiral.”
“We’ll need all the information we have on the ship,” Ikande said. “I’d appreciate a chance to interview Miss Thiou before we leave.”
“You can talk to her at your leisure, Commander. She will be accompanying you as Ship’s Historian, with the provisional rank of Technical Officer.” Surprised flashed across Thiou’s face, and Forbin turned to her, saying, “Were you to remain here, the Coalition would continue to target you. This way, I can guarantee your safety, and make use of your skills.”
“My doctoral program…”
Aliyev smiled, and said, “I’ll be meeting with the Board of Regents at your university tomorrow. I think I can assure you that you will receive your doctorate a little ahead of time. Frankly, my dear, it’s the least we can do. Certainly, this discovery justifies it.”
Glancing at her watch, Forbin asked, “Are there any further questions?” She waited a second, then said, “In that case, I suggest you get to your ship. A shuttle is waiting outside. Commander Ikande, if you could remain for a few moments?”
“Of course, ma’am,” he replied, as the others rose as one, walking out of the room. Thiou was at the rear, her eyes wide, and Mitchell walked over to her, the door sliding shut behind her.
“It’s not so bad out there,” Mitchell said.
“I’ve never left Mars,” Thiou replied. “Not even into orbit.”
“Then it’s about time you did,” Romanova said. “Besides, this is your discovery, and you’ve earned the right to see it through. We’re going to need you out there. Mars needs you out there.”
Looking down the corridor towards them, Hoffman said, “And the shuttle needs us on the pad, so I suggest we get moving. We’ve got a lot of work to do, and no time to do it.”
“Yes, sir,” Mitchell said, glancing at Thiou. “Are you going to be all right?”
“I think so,” she said. “It’s just…”
“I know,” he replied. “Let’s go see our ship.” He turned to Romanova, peering at her tablet, and asked, “Are you coming?”
“Not yet,” she said. “I have something to do first. I will join you presently.”
“What’s all that about?” Thiou asked.
“Search me,” Mitchell replied. “We’d better get moving. I really don’t want to explain to Admiral Forbin how we missed the shuttle.”
Chapter 4
DeSilva frowned over her terminal, struggling with the answer to the latest question. When the Watchmen had arrested her, she’d expected either a long stay in solitary confinement or a quick trip to the District Interrogator. Instead, one of the guards had taken her to a training room, loading a series of examinations based on her knowledge of starships. With nothing better to do, she’d started to work through them, and as far as she could tell, she was doing well enough.
Finally, she finished the last question, and the screen went blank. She sat back in her chair, looking around the room. The door was locked and sealed, she’d checked that first, but this wasn’t anything like a traditional cell. Far from it. They’d taken her out of the dome in a sealed buggy, no way for her to tell where she was, but the carpeting and furniture was far too expensive for this to be any sort of prison.
There was a knock on the door, and it slid open to reveal a tall, blonde officer with close-cropped hair, her Guard uniform neat and pressed, the buttons and rank insignia gleaming. Behind her, a man stood at parade rest, guarding the door, accelerator rifle in his hands. The officer muttered something to the man, then stepped inside, allowing the door to close behind her.
“I didn’t kill him,” DeSilva said. “That man…”
“I know,” she replied. “I know. I’ve looked over all the footage, and they confirm that the shot was fired by the man you brought down. If I wasn’t certain of that, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, I assure you.” Taking a seat opposite her, she said, “My name is Natasha Romanova. I’m a Lieutenant in the Interplanetary Guard, and right now, about the only friend you have.”
Folding her arms, DeSilva replied, “You aren’t going to kill me. That would turn me into a martyr. Too many of my friends will miss me, too many of them know why I was arrested.” She paused, then asked, “If you aren’t holding me for murder…”
“Oh, State Security has been very interested in you for a while.” Pulling out a tablet, Romanova scrolled through the data on display, and said, “Four years in the Guard, a good if undistinguished career, though I note that some of your superiors did suggest that you consider re-enlistment, that a promotion to Petty Officer was considered.”
“I didn’t want to make the Guard my life. I joined up because I wanted to train as an engineer, and it was the cheapest and easiest way to do it. I took every course I could while I was in uniform and used the Release Stipend to pay for my time at Technical College.”
“Where you graduated near the top of your class and were immediately employed as a life support technician by the administration of your dome. You were promoted to Supervisor last year, and up until then, your record suggests that you had excellent prospects for a good career.” Folding her arms, she asked, “What went wrong?”
“Not me. The whole damned system. We were short of everything. Spares, personnel, equipment. Every request for additional funding was turned down, unless it was for the benefit of the administration. People are dying out there, Lieutenant, and most of them don’t need to. Cutting funds to essential services to promote a war with the Coalition…”
“We’re not at war.”
“People are dying fast enough, both out in space and right here on Mars. You can call it what the hell you want, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s a war.” She paused, then said, “You know why I joined up? To help people. Not in uniform, but later. I grew up in Dome Six. It was home. Even then, everything was going wrong. We had to patch up equipment ourselves, with whatever we had. I wanted to make a difference. I was going to train as an engineer, fix these problems, make the repairs, build something new and better. When I got promoted, I thought I finally had a chance to do something.”
“You ran into resistance.”
“I ran into a concrete wall. Nobody wanted to make things better. Just to keep things ticking over one more day. Sooner or later, Lieutenant, that sort of thinking is going t
o kill ten thousand people, all at once. I wanted to stop that from happening, and it’s not as if you’ve left any channels open for us to call for change legally. We had no choice but to take to the streets.”
Shaking her head, Romanova replied, “You must have known what was likely to happen. Thirty-nine people were wounded in your demonstration, and there were five fatalities. Two of them Watchmen. The place is under full security lockdown and will be for the foreseeable future. More than a hundred arrests. Including Lloyd Harrison, Celia Larson, Jao Temirak. They’re on your conscience.”
Looking Romanova in the eyes, she said, “They were willing to risk their freedom to save lives. What they did was no different than what the Interplanetary Guard does every day.” Shaking her head, she looked at the door, and said, “I hope I’ve satisfied your curiosity.”
“You’ve answered a question, certainly.” Looking at the tablet again, she said, “Most of those arrested will of course only receive citations. No custodial time. We have the ringleaders, and most of you will be heading to the Mercury Mines. All except Harrison and yourself. He’s got a date with an airlock, wanted on four counts of murder. Including his own brother. Nice people you were associating with.”
“I didn’t have to like him to work with him. He was a means to an end. Nothing more.”
Romanova shrugged and said, “There are other ways to improve the lot of the people. Work with the system, such as it is, rather than try and destroy it.”
“I tried that and got nowhere.”
“You tried for what, six months, before giving up? The secret is to bide your time, gather your influence, earn favors, work your way up the chain. Eventually you’re in a position where you can get that extra funding, even if you must cut deals to do it. Instead, you’ve given away your freedom in exchange for nothing at all and are responsible for the hospitalization of dozens and the death of six people.”
Exiles of Earth: Rebellion Page 3
