by F Stephan
“Lots of debris after the incidents last week. The cleaning party made a good job with the bigger objects but there are still many flying parts.” An uncontrolled power surge had overheated a water tank. Its explosion had sent showers of ice on the ring and large chunks of metal everywhere. It was the second time that year, and the engineers didn’t seem any closer to fixing it.
“Can you continue your job?”
“Yes, station controller. I am keeping close to the ring well below the debris. No immediate risks. But no possible work outward around here.” Tiny sharp metal objects flying fast were no friendly neighbors in space operation. They would spin out of range in time. But today, they remained too dangerous for anyone to cross into their range.
“Acknowledged. I will prepare a new cleaning party. Until then, go ahead, Andrew,” answered Maricar from the main control room.
He began welding the communication array to the research module. This would improve their link to Earth. Many fellow crew members had complained of the lack of communications recently. Today’s work would bring smiles when he returned. His work progressed rapidly, and he checked in with Maricar every five minutes. Andrew liked her; she was always quietly in control of all operations aboard her station. The station’s construction wasn’t on schedule, wasn’t progressing anywhere as fast as it had been planned, but she didn’t let that pressure fall on her workers. Most of it wasn’t her fault either, as the work was hampered by being the most complex construction ever attempted above Earth, and due to the regular attacks of terrorists back home. Judging by the gossip, she had done a far better job than the previous two station masters.
A bright light caught Andrew’s attention. It was opposite the sun, an abnormal thing. Immediately, he shifted his attention to it. The Jovian red storm had appeared in front of the station, hiding the moon. Something shiny shot out of it. And then, just as quickly, the image collapsed on itself and the moon returned.
“Station controller, we have emergence. God damn it. We have a spaceship on its way here.” He sighed into his microphone.
“Thanks, Andrew,” Maricar answered. “You are a good spotter. Earth is processing the signal right now.” Space wasn’t a welcoming environment for computers and they still relied on Earth for most of the heavy calculation, with half a second delay. “Why such a big sigh? Wasn’t this why you signed up to come back into space?”
“Yes, Madam, but we aren’t ready for them. I had hoped we would be.”
“If not today, then it will be on their next visit. Soon we will have pilots of our own. They might be even on this ship.”
“No advance warning, Madam?”
“Still no adequate detectors. We’re working on it.” He heard her sigh. There was so much they had to create and invent to make this station work.
“I know you are, Madam. We really need help. Anyway, I’m nearly finished here.”
“OK. Please come back in as soon as you’re done. No one outside with guests visiting!” Tension had crept back into Maricar’s voice. They all had seen the difficulties she faced. Guests always meant celebrations, but the resupply shuttle wasn’t due for another week. They were on rations now, and that wasn’t appropriate fare for visitors. We do what we can. Not to mention extra paperwork and reporting to the United Organization.
Andrew spent ten minutes checking his work and confirming with the crew that the array was working as expected. As Maricar always said, finished is when all is done and working. He didn’t want to make her more upset her more than she already was. She didn’t need it.
Leopold
Earth orbit, Charon, June 23, 2140
We’re home. Leopold could barely suppress his glee. He had left for Adheek three years before and he was coming back at last. He felt this moment required some seriousness but couldn’t really muster it. He was on the bridge with Wilfried and Tasha, marveling at what he saw.
In front of the Charon, on the second Lagrange point of the Earth-Moon system, a metal wheel turned in space. It wasn’t a perfect one like in Adheek, just a rough assembly of twenty cylinders, sixty yards long by twenty yards wide. Looking more closely, four gaps remained, where modules were still missing. Leopold’s pilot’s bracelet confirmed that the construction was four hundred and fifty yards wide, turning on itself two times per minute, and it should create normal gravitational conditions inside it. When the Federation had arrived seven years before, the lunar station and the asteroid projects were abandoned, derelicts of an unsustainable past.
Leopold whooped in delight. “Look at that – a new space station has appeared, and it’s larger than anything Earth ever attempted before.”
Tasha looked up from her console. “Leopold, would you get the shuttle ready? I’m stopping the ship relative to the station.”
The shuttle had been a lease from Kilet, designed to transfer goods from the ship to the station. The boxy structure was designed to maximize internal space and was hell to pilot, with huge inertia and poor thrusters. Despite all its faults, they couldn’t work without it, as the space station was now too fragile to allow the starship to dock directly.
“Yes, sir,” he replied with a mock salute, before leaving the bridge, heading toward the adjoining main cafeteria, the true heart of the ship.
“Droum, are you joining me?” The heavyset and jovial cargo mistress was sprawling on a sofa watching a 3D broadcast with two of the onboard marines. Around them, others were still having breakfast, according to Adheeken time. “We’ve arrived, everyone. Don’t you want to go and see the station?”
Leopold couldn’t keep his joy in check and Droum laughed. “That’s your home, young Pilot. You might be excited; we’re slightly less. Still, let’s get your shuttle ready.”
They went quickly down through the main helix, leaving behind the three main decks which housed the fifteen people on board and all the facilities they used in their daily life.
“Are you ready to take over the ship?” Droum asked jovially. She had helped Derantor bring the ship to Earth and she would leave with the Captain. Leopold would miss her skills.
They were now crossing the environmental decks, which contained the recycling machines, the food stores, and the hydroponics farms. The floors vibrated slightly due to all the machinery inside. Already the gravity felt lighter. It was close to one-gee in the higher part of the ship, null in its mid-part and distorted in the lower part, closer to the singularity. That part of the ship, behind the engineering deck, was forbidden to everyone but the strange maintenance robots left by the Ancients.
“I hope so, Droum. The Earth academy should have trained people to help us by now.”
“And Hawkeyes will remain as well.” Before leaving Adheek, Tasha had hired an engineer, Hawkeyes Noul, to help them. She was a strange woman from Raml, a planet in the Baol sector at the other side of the Federation. She had a gaunt face with piercing yellow eyes and a disdainful attitude which unsettled Leopold frequently. Droum seemed extremely amused by his reaction.
“Well, I still can’t see why Tasha has chosen her over all other candidates,” he said.
“Leopold, you’ll soon see why. Trust me on this. Charon still needs repairs after his long sleep and Hawkeyes is one of the best in this sector. She’ll get your ship back in shape in no time.”
Leopold raised his eyebrows, unconvinced. “The Federation’s shipyard has cleared the ship for normal use. This looks like overkill to me. But we’ll see.”
By now, they were weightless in the central hold. They donned their spacesuits to enter the gigantic cavern full of crates. They were bringing back home ten radiation nanostations and all the spares required to keep them running for ten years. Many areas on Earth had become damaged beyond repairs in the last few centuries, particularly some water sources in the high mountains, during the Water Wars of the early twenty-first century. Earth scientists couldn’t clean the underground damage, but now they would be able to filter the water at their exit point, avoiding further contaminat
ion downstream.
Droum looked at them appreciatively. “I can’t begin to imagine how much you’ve paid for those jewels.”
“Two pilots qualified for flights within the solar system. One Observer. Two pilots on intersystem training. A commitment for ten more pilots in the next five years, Brian and Emily included. And fifty crew members trained in the Earth academy. We pay all of this in blood,” Leopold answered in a matter-of-fact voice.
Droum shuddered. “We paid the same price once on Nelom. When you’ve nothing else, you can sell…” She sighed and moved on, uncomfortable with the topic. “Let’s get the shuttle out and begin loading the nanostations. We have a few hours of work in front of us.”
Soon Wilfried and other crew members joined them to help move the crates from the spaceship into the shuttle, using a small crane deployed outside the ship.
“Ironic, don’t you think?” Droum said, half serious, half laughing. “We fly spaceships though hyperspace and then we load and unload our goods manually. I fear unloading will be worse. The station doesn’t have proper cranes yet. Another of our challenges.”
Wilfried
Space station Acheron, June 23, 2140
The airlock cycled, and air began pouring into the confined space. At last, the red light above the door turned green, and Wilfried unclicked his helmet. Immediately, the odor assaulted him. It stank of human sweat and breath and food and over-recycling. He gagged but managed not to throw up. Next to him, Leopold was ashen-faced and Tasha paler than usual.
“It’ll pass in a few minutes,” commented Andrew. He had seen them off to space from the lunar station three years before, and today he had welcomed them outside, guiding them in. “Just focus on breathing normally until then.”
Behind him, their three Marines bodyguard were grunting in disgust.
They all removed their suits, folding them neatly to take with them. The suits were Federation-made and a lot more advanced than those produced on Earth. Such suits were a precious commodity now, and they couldn’t risk leaving them out of their sight, or so they had been warned.
At last, the airlock door opened, and the applause began. In front of them, lining the walls, waited a crowd. Wilfried gasped and looked at Tasha. She smiled, a true queen, or so she seemed to him, and moved forward. She shook hands, clapped people on the shoulder, and waved to those she couldn’t reach. Leopold was just behind her, joking with everyone, the laughing face of their team. Wilfried came last, serious and subdued.
A few yards away, a small Filipino woman waited for them. She wore a black-and-white uniform; her hair was drawn behind her in a knot which gave her a severe appearance. She smiled strangely, lips curled.
“Welcome them, welcome them home!” she shouted to the crowd, and her words were repeated, echoing in the corridors. The small woman raised her hands. “Main cafeteria, everyone. You’ll all listen to them. Anaru will also be live for a speech of welcome. Let’s enjoy all of this. And afterwards, we’ve got the shuttle to unload. Come on, everyone! Today is the day this station was built for!”
New hurrahs filled the air as they all moved forward into the module.
Wilfried wasn’t won over by the exuberant mood as the crowd pushed him toward the cafeteria. What he saw around him were only the unattached cables running along the modules, the flickering lights hinting at issues in the electrical coupling. In one side corridor, he glimpsed water leaking from the ceiling. Later, in the cafeteria, with its stale water, canned food, and missing furniture, the situation seemed even worse. Even while recounting their adventures, he couldn’t get in the mood. This station was a formidable achievement for Earth, the first of its kind, but it was positively medieval compared to what he now knew.
Boris
European Confederacy, Berlin, July 1, 2140
The two men had already waited four hours. Sunlight was shining through the open windows and the murmur of the street became a low background buzz. Boris had chosen it carefully when he had been hired for the job.
“You’re sure you have seen no one leave?” Josh asked, pointing at the Federation Embassy farther along the street. He was a scrawny, pale-faced, sick-looking Irishman, who, according to Boris’s sources, had fought as a mercenary in the most recent wars. Except that, according to those same sources, he should have been dead and not just looking sick.
“Yes. And I was there within fifteen minutes of the call. He couldn’t have reached it that fast. No. He’s cautious, that’s all.” Boris sighed. Maybe our customer doesn’t have perfect intelligence on the Federation as he boasted.
“It’s vital we stop him. He has accumulated too much information on us. Remember, you’ll only be paid if we kill him before he reaches the embassy.” Josh’s foot tapped repeatedly on the floor. How long has he been waiting to strike? He’s like a coiled spring ready to push a jack out of the box.
Boris remained motionless. “Look, he hasn’t reached the embassy yet. You’re in a nice and cozy room. At this height, we’ve got a cool breeze from the window. We overlook the two directions he could come from. And finally, we’ve got a good coffee machine.” He had bought it himself in anticipation of such circumstances. “Now, stand back from the window and sit with me. If you stay here too long, you’ll attract attention.” His voice was stern, and Josh seemed to resent his quiet words.
The windows were opened fully, the panes pushed back against the wall. Ten floors below, the small crowd moved undisturbed in the mid-afternoon hours of a normal working day. There were a lot of bikes and walkers and even a few electrical cars whizzing past.
Josh sprang to his feet. “Look, there he is.”
Boris moved to his rifle. Their prey was cautious blending with the crowd and taking his time, yet remaining protected from sniper shots by the surrounding people.
“There’s no other way to shoot him. He’s too good. We have to go for plan B.”
“Understood. Distance to the threshold.” It was the limit they had decided he might use his nanites to dash for the Embassy. Plan B – I wasn’t planning on using it. That’s the real problem. We don’t know how fast or how strong they can become when using those damn nanites. Boris had a job to do and a reason to do it, but it didn’t mean he had to like it.
“One hundred yards.” Josh was now calm again, quieted by the arrival of their prey.
“Good. Please move to the side and alert me if he’s doing something unexpected.”
Josh obeyed sullenly. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am,” Boris snapped, annoyed. “Quiet now.” Breathing came first, then focus. With his laser, he painted a pin on top of an isolated air duct to the underground network. “One, two…” His pulse sped up. The primer was now sending a series of small electrical bursts to the main controller below. Tiny, hopefully below the detection capacity of their prey.
Josh called, “Our man has begun running.”
Ten seconds more and all the underground controllers ignited together. During the night, Josh had set up all the detonation charges in the sewers below the street.
“Too late.” Boris rolled back from the window as a cascade of flames erupted from the ground.
Seventy yards of street vaporized instantly. The sound shattered all the windows in the surrounding buildings. Then came the shrieks. Pain, suffering, horror. Boris hated killing, and he knew those screams would haunt his dreams until the end of his life. We had no other way to get him.
“Can you find him? Is he dead?” Boris asked, searching for his target.
“There, look. I’m not sure.” Josh’s eyes were fixed on a corpse lying on the ground, shredded into pieces. “His nanites have begun to work.”
The body trembled, trying to regrow, to reconnect its limbs.
“As you warned me,” Boris reminded Josh. “And he nearly made it to the outer limit of our trap. Our informer was right.”
“Do you doubt our mole?” Josh snapped, shaken. “Look, the Federation Marines.”
Two Embassy g
uards were sprinting to the street at inhuman speeds. One drew a small grenade and tossed it to the dead body, while the other cleared the space around, pulling corpses back in a wide radius. The grenade exploded, and the body disappeared in a small plasma ball.
Boris gasped. “Interesting. They didn’t stop to reanimate or try to save him. They didn’t even check. They blasted him immediately.”
“You had doubts?” Josh’s voice was a murmur.
“Yes. In the Corps, we’d have tried to save him. In the Mercs, we’d have tried to save him. They didn’t. You’ll report it back, won’t you? Now, move back and let’s clear this room.”
The screams had got worse now, bystanders moving in.
He pushed himself back, dismantling his laser rifle and stowing it in his backpack. “You know your exit route?”
Josh nodded, grabbing his own backpack.
“Good, then we won’t meet in a while.”
He didn’t stop tracking Josh until he cleared the door. Then, he rushed to the stairs, mingling with the agitated crowd. Two floors below, Boris was only a blond German guy panicked by a new terrorist attempt, like everyone else. Josh would flee on his own route.
At least the second part of the plan had gone as expected. Now came the hard part: surviving the murder of a Federation undercover agent, the death of the innocent bystanders and obtaining the bounty he had demanded. If I can’t, it will all have been for nothing.
Two days later, Boris was heading east toward the Russian tundra in an antique land cruiser. At his side, his brother Igor was monitoring the skies.
“The Zambian Ecowarriors have claimed the attack of the Federation Embassy as revenge against their lack of intervention over the disappearance of Lake Tanganyika. From several sources, they were helped by former mercenaries and seven were found dead this morning, shot in a firefight in the center of our town. This splinter cell was previously unknown. Its beginning have already changed our political life.”
