“Why?”, she asked, “I was not expecting to move until tomorrow morning.”
“Whose morning? I think Molongo might be working the early shift. Also, the Mao is recalling all its crew on a priority basis. I have a strong feeling that something is happening that will mess with the scheduled transfer.”
I had had that kind of feeling too often on Mars, and learned to trust it. Planning and events had two different rhythms and the rhythm of events was the only one that mattered. If the Captain of the Mao was pushing to bring the ship to full readiness, we could expect to move either much earlier or much later than planned, and I was betting on earlier.
The orderly, a young man this time, helped us get dressed in fresh clothes. This was easier than the last time because we had better use of our arms, but was still slow and painful. Our legs were still pinned in place at both ends, so sliding on the pajama pants required releasing one foot clamp at a time.
We had barely finished when Doctor Marin bounced through the door with an ouch and started calling frantic instructions to get us prepped for transport. “General Molongo says you must move now, over my strong objections, and that I am to come with you. Thank you very much, you have made a righteous mess of my life and the lives of all my other patients! What the hell is happening? Why the hell are you still dressed!? I told the orderlies to put you in braces, not fresh clothes! Damn, they must not have got the order yet. We will have to work around this. Bring the crates over here.”
Two orderlies scrambled back into our room, bursting with apologies, as a couple of techs from the repair section of R&R maneuvered a pair of large crates in behind them. They were obviously intended to carry weapons like small magnetic rail guns, but the foam cradles used as packing for shipments to and from the Earth had been ripped out and replaced with a medical brace and an odd collection of pillows. Pillows are normally useless in low-G, unless you are injured and expected to be bounced about a lot. Marin fitted one of the braces over me, while the orderlies fitted the other over Maryanne. We were arranged in the crates, fitted with breathing masks and oxygen bottles. I had not expected they would take me seriously when I suggested moving in ammunition boxes.
Another tech brought a third crate into the room, which was now crowded. Marin glared at me, recognizing the source of her trouble when she saw it. “That crate is for me, after you two have been dispatched. Damn you, I am a doctor, not an agent. Save your bloody theatrics for someone else! I am returning Earth-side in three months, so don't you mess up my life now.” She then gave me an injection that knocked me clean out. In retrospect, I assume that it also lowered my metabolism and reduced my oxygen consumption so I would not suffocate in the crate. She was not gentle and I still have a small scar for which she later apologized. She had every right to be angry, even if I had not actually intended that she accompany us.
2357-03-02 15:00
TDF Mao Awakening
I woke in an unfamiliar room, presumably on the Mao, still in my crate but with the cover removed. Marin waited beside a uniformed medic, whom I assumed was one of the Mao's surgeons. I was a little unfocused, but my internal medical monitor reported that it was now cleaning what was left of the soporific out of my blood stream. Marin was visibly angry, but was still my doctor and in charge as I was moved gently over to a bed with a brace. The bedding was unusual in zero-G, clearly intended to provide support when the ship was accelerating.
Marin glowered at me. “You had better be worth it, you son of a bitch. A new set of ID's arrived while you were out. We have all been reclassified, myself included. I will be unblocking your legs in an hour.”
She tossed an envelope at me, which I was barely able to catch as it fluttered through the air. It contained only an access code that I read into my comm unit. More people popped into my address book, including Agent Chou Sergei and Doctor Virginia Marin. There were five more members of the team whom I had never met, three more doctors, and seven Ministers, three Senior Ministers and one Very Senior Minister of the Terrestrial Council.
I had also received by comm a document with a security code MI-A1, the highest level within Military Intelligence. The document was rated as eyes-only for the team members, with no access for even the ministerial delegates. If I could open that document, I had been skyrocketed to a level of authority I had briefly held in the field at the height of the Incursion. I had deliberately relinquished that authority when I returned from Mars and never wanted to attain it again. I opened the document, hoping against reason to be challenged, but it verified my ID and opened as easily as a public news feed. The title was “Fairy Dust Investigation Team”; I noted that the last modified date on the document was less than an hour before. It listed everyone on the team, their fields of expertise, and the ministries they served. The list matched the names in my updated address book, except that the address book included a group that would allow me to broadcast to everyone at once. There was also a list of delegates that gave the names of the ministers and deputy ministers plus the teams of experts they had brought for the meeting. Continuing to read, the document gave the team an open-ended charge to investigate any involvement by Martian activists in the Fairy Dust Incident, in the Shuttle Laika Incident, and in the Hanuman Incident at 2102 Tantalus. A footnote clarified that “Martian activists” included anyone supporting Martian independence, ranging from citizens expressing their opinions in public up to saboteurs, assassins and lawyers offering bribes.
I had not heard about the Hanuman Incident, but the mention of Tantalus sent chills down my spine. An illicit shipment of drugs and weapons to Tantalus had drawn me into Legal Intelligence, which in turn had sent me to Mars to try to track where the weapons were going. More recently, Tantalus had been attacked by pirates, who had stolen some heavy mining equipment, a year’s supply of food and the entire inventory of spare parts. Fortunately, the miners had been able to evacuate before the pirates arrived. Since that attack, resupply missions to Tantalus often went in small convoys protected by a frigate. Had the pirates returned to Tantalus in a surprise attack with enough force that they could overpower a frigate?
As Doctor Marin had mentioned, Maryanne and I had been assigned our new ID's. Someone had been working under pressure and the new ID's were consistent with the physical changes we had already endured. I was glad we had never traveled outside MI R&R.
I was now Senior Agent Brian Douglas from the Canont region in Noram, working in Commercial Intelligence. My specialization was still forensic accounting, but with field experience in weapons and counterinsurgency.
Maryanne was now Senior Agent Leilani Pinter, a financial accountant in Commercial Intelligence with field experience in drug trafficking and political corruption.
Those descriptions reproduced our main interests over the last few years so closely that it was a security breach in itself. I was also seriously disturbed that we were no longer assigned formal roles within the earth station hierarchy, aside from the cover that we both worked for CI. Our roles were now specific to this team. I scanned the other team members. Aside from Agent Chou, their names were unfamiliar, but I expected their background descriptions were dangerously accurate. I wondered if their names had been changed already, or if they were officially still alive.
As I finished reading, Maryanne/Leilani was brought in and uncrated. Marin gave her an injection that woke her. I gave her a few minutes to recover, then sent a quick call. “Maryanne, I have news. Your name is now Leilani Pinter and you are no longer a custodian.”
She flashed back without blinking, “Leilani? Nice. That means Flower of Heaven in Hawaiian. Somebody is being cheeky. You perhaps?”
“Nope, probably whoever decided on your current body features. I think they had good taste, if not good sense. A financial analyst should not be named Leilani, nor look that good. We may have to give you a nickname like boringandgrumpy.”
“Ooh, just try it jerkface. I know where you hide your skeletons.”
Oh, dear Leilani, I tho
ught, you have never even glanced over my secret graveyard wall.
Another box arrived, ostensibly filled with medical supplies but actually containing Doctor Brett Valentino from Law Enforcement on the ES Kennedy. He in turn revived Agent Evgenia Ashura of Law Enforcement and two ministers I did not recognize. Crates arrived and important people emerged for the next few hours. One Minister shrieked when she awoke, unused to zero-G and feeling like she was falling. She was gently sedated again until the sensation passed, but continued looking queasy.
The Very Senior Minister Mahatma Morris from Extraterrestrial Affairs exploded in rage when he found himself wearing only light pajamas in a room full of strangers. “What is the meaning of this outrage! I demand to be moved immediately to my private quarters, and I will have the traitor who committed this offence shot! Where is my entourage? You, and you,” he pointed to me and one of the doctors in our plain white pajamas, “get off your seats and gather my possessions. I am leaving this madhouse now!”
With my best, most conciliatory voice, I replied, “I am sorry Very Senior Minister Morris, but there has been a security threat and you are temporarily on the Terrestrial Defence Force battleship Mao for your...”
“I DON'T CARE IF I AM IN THE THIRD ASS CRACK OF THE MOON! GET MOVING NOW.”
“No, Minister”, I said, no longer conciliatory, “My name is Brian Douglas and I am the Team Lead for this investigation...”
“MOVE ME TO MY PRIVATE QUARTERS NOW OR I WILL...”
“Civilian Morris, you are on the TDF Mao under military discipline. I am the ranking military officer in the room, and if you do not cease your disturbance, I will call in the marines guarding our doors and have you arrested, to be held in detention until your return to the earth stations. Make any further threats and I can have you chemically inactivated as you were a few minutes ago.”
“You might further note that I am strapped into a medical restraint to allow my injuries to heal. As are many other people in this room, including yourself. We will not be moving until we receive our medical release.” I turned my head towards the doctor he had accosted. “Please, Doctor, continue your duties and be assured that on this ship this gentleman has no authority to interfere with your profession.”
Morris sputtered in outrage and his doctor moved to adjust his meds, but he brushed the man away in irritation. Another crate was delivered and the doctor lifted out an older woman, naked except for the medical braces and bandages that wrapped her body. She was still unconscious and would probably remain so until her injuries had a few more hours to heal. Minister Morris went red in the face, then dead white, and murmured, “Deputy Minister Almeida, I cannot believe these savages would expose you to such shame.” She was soon strapped onto a bed and covered with a sheet.
A few last crates arrived and their human contents unpacked. Three of them, like Deputy Minister Almeida, were still unconscious and some like me were still strapped into frames. The rest had only bandages and splints and were free to move throughout the room. They moved with the exaggerated care of people unfamiliar with zero-G, finally clustering into small groups talking quietly but with great agitation.
A siren wailed in the hall and I settled onto my bed. The people drifting within the room suddenly discovered that the direction “down” had meaning again. There was a brief tangle as they all reached the floor, and although the acceleration was very gentle there were a lot of shrieks and groans as their injuries were bumped and stretched. The doctors untangled them as quickly as they could and strapped them onto nearby beds. Without any warning, the Mao was leaving orbit, taking us God knows where. Military ships have bigger engines than freighters and the acceleration ramped up until my arms ached.
Trying to look well informed and in charge, but still unable to sit up with my legs paralyzed, I announced, “I believe we will be introduced to the Captain shortly and receive a briefing from General Molongo on the situation that has necessitated this abrupt change of venue. If you would be so gracious as to wait quietly, I will inquire about when they will be ready and when we can expect some proper clothes at least to be provided.”
I pretended to pull a small communicator out of a nonexistent pocket, and put a call through the comm unit to Molongo's office. “I have a room full of angry, frightened, and very powerful people who would like to know what is happening at your earliest convenience. Why have we left orbit with so many ministers on board? Where are we going?”
His assistant replied, “The General is in consultation with the Captain, but I will come to you immediately to explain the arrangements. The General will be along as soon as he is free. You can inform the Ministerial delegates that arrangements for them to communicate with their offices are being put in place as we speak.”
I continued, “Thank you. Many people here are quite agitated, especially the ones unfamiliar with life in space. Could you bring us some rank-appropriate clothes?”
He replied, “Certainly. I will pick up some officer's pajamas on the way. Insignia will have to wait until people's personal effects are sorted out. Our departure was distressingly abrupt and disordered, so that may take a while. Expect me in, oh, ten minutes.”
I put my five-fingered invisible phone back in my non-existent pocket and passed this announcement to the others. Even an illusion of order and process can pacify a frightened crowd, so we all settled down to wait for Molongo's assistant.
2357-03-02 17:50
Briefing
Good as his word, Molongo's assistant arrived ten minutes later with a large bundle of clean, shiny-white pajamas. He started, “Honoured Sirs and Ministers, please accept our apologies for the abrupt change in our accommodations. General Molongo and the Captain will be along shortly to explain why the change was necessary, and what arrangements are being made to put you back in contact with your offices.”
“In the meantime, those of you who are mobile will find a washroom across the hall and to the left. Please note that this is a military vessel, so the facilities are open and communal. As is normal in space, there is no distinction between genders. The dining area is also to the left on this side of the hall. Immediately across the hall is an exercise room, whose use will be explained by the doctors. I will, in a few minutes, issue each of you with visitor insignia that should be pinned to the left breast of your clothes. It will unlock doors and give you individually crafted meals. It will not give you access to much of the ship, I am afraid. Especially, it will not unlock the door at the end of the hall to your right, which is guarded by armed marines for your security.”
“There is a secure communications office across the hall to the right. There is only room for one or two people at a time, but your visitor insignia will give you access if there are no current occupants and will open a secure connection to your home office. I am afraid only Ministers will have access to that equipment. I would also ask that you not talk to the Earth until after your briefing with General Molongo and Captain Wang, so that you understand the security implications of the situation. There is a sign-up sheet clipped to the door in half hour blocks.”
“I expect many of you will feel confused about time, having just arrived from the Earth. All TDF warships operate on Coordinated Universal Time. The plan for this meeting was to work on the Westoz time zone WOT, offset from UTC by 8 hours. Your staff in Perth will normally arrive at work about 0 hours, and the Council itself normally sits from 3 to 11 hours. To avoid competing with the crew for the use of the kitchens and exercise rooms, our plan is to hold meals and exercise an hour later than normal. We will arrange breakfast between 23 and 0 hours, lunch at 4 hours, dinner at 10 hours, with breaks for regular exercise.
“Today, of course, is an arrival day, starting early and probably breaking early as well. General Molongo and Captain Wang will welcome us to the Mao shortly, and light refreshments will be provided to tide us through until breakfast.
“Let us take a break now so those of you who are mobile can use the washroom and the Ministers ca
n consider amongst yourselves the most appropriate order to use the communications room.”
There was an awkward movement towards the washroom. People used to earth-normal gravity tend to pull themselves along the walls in zero-G, but under acceleration they try to walk. The Mao was not in combat, so the acceleration was enough to make my arms ache but not enough to make walking easy. At first, inexperienced people tended to bounce, hitting the walls or ceiling, which made them tumble out of control until they landed in a painful heap. After a few tries they would slow to a shuffle, barely moving their feet. The gentle glide of an experienced spacer took practice. It would have been fun to watch except for the growing ache in my face and arms.
Doctor Marin came over to Leilani. “Do you have your anaesthetic cream, or is that mixed up in the personal effects that have not yet been delivered, like all the rest of my supplies?” She quite pointedly did not ask me.
“I do not have anything except the clothes we came in, and thank goodness for them given the reaction of Minister Morris. Do the ships physicians have anything equivalent?”
Marin turned and looked at both of us. “I will inquire whether we can borrow anything out of the ship's supplies. I cannot turn off the blocking in your legs until we have access to some form of anaesthetic. Although in his case, I ought to anyways.”
“Not fair, Doctor,” Leilani replied, “He did not ask for you to be brought along, and certainly did not ask for the Mao to break orbit.”
“I am sorry, Doctor Marin.” I was trying for my humble best, but the pain across my forehead was making it hard. “I had not thought you would come with us at all. I had expected we seven agents would be here for a week or two while they cleaned out the Martian saboteurs on the ESK. After that, we should all have gone about our jobs. I am still baffled why four physicians have been assigned to a team that only has seven agents. Nor do I understand why the four of you have been put on an indefinite contract when you, I know, were supposed to meteor down to the Earth in three months. Something is very wrong.”
Lord Banshee- Fairy Dust Page 6
