by F Stephan
Ivan took over the tactical analysis. “I have six males building a line in your direction, Red. And six others on your side, Yellow.” Tasha had forgotten how fast the creatures could run. In less than a minute, they had deployed their line to cover half a klick.
“Where are the females? Do you see any babies?” Roman had stopped his team as well.
“I’ve confirmed eight females and four babies. They are spread out in a wedge.” Ivan highlighted the tigroids and sent the image to all units.
“Facing us or facing the water?”
“Facing you,” intervened Tasha, before Ivan had even begun to check.
“Good. Everyone, stay put. We let them go. We’re just here to make sure they cross.”
Tasha had already seen something Ivan and Roman had missed. “Vladimir, Sofia, you’re not in line anymore. You’re in their path. Move back.”
The two veterans had been caught in the swampy side of the track near to the river, looking for better ground, and were now severely out of formation. Suddenly, they faced one tigroid. A female. They hadn’t seen her appear.
“She’s faster than you are. Slow and back. Let the babies leave. We’re just here to make sure they do.” Tasha projected her nanites forward, trying to reach out and help them directly, sending all her force forward.
Their training kicked in and the two soldiers retreated, facing the gigantic beast.
“Don’t look at her in the eyes but don’t evade either. You have ten yards to go. One step at a time.” Tasha activated her nanites fully to monitor the retreat, projecting all her awareness in those few yards and guiding the two as best as she could.
They had covered half the distance when Vladimir fell backward on a hidden root. He was lying there, stunned, when the tigroid gave a snarl. Then, she looked directly at Tasha – straight at her, despite the distance.
Suddenly, an image formed in Tasha’s mind. Babies crossing the river. Safe. The image was stunning, as if the female had communicated with her, mind to mind. But if this was true, Tasha had no time to waste. She focused her will on the tiger hundreds of yards away and tried to send another image back. Soldiers back in line. Safe.
The beast grabbed the fallen solder by the shirt, lifted him and launched him ten yards back.
“Sofia, keep retreating and stay by Vladimir. Don’t move further. You’ll be safe. The babies are now getting close.”
Sofia ran and the tigroid roared behind her. But she didn’t move closer. Tasha let out a sigh of relief.
Three hours later, they were back in the car with Wilfried, Nikolai, and Roman. Tasha’s mind had been running in circles ever since the beast had crossed back over the line.
“The females chose to cross the line to give birth ten days ago; they had their babies eight days ago. Then they nursed them for as long as they could. And when the males saw us, they built a corridor back to the line and moved out. Once they crossed, they disappeared into their territories.”
“They are getting smarter, aren’t they?” Roman’s voice had an edge of finality.
Wilfried looked closely at Tasha. “A lot smarter, wouldn’t you say?”
She couldn’t accept what had happened. Not yet. Not from the beasts that had murdered her father. “Yes. Maybe. What have we let loose upon his world?”
Telepathy? How could she connect with me? Why me and no one else? An answer was deep in her mind, but it was one she didn’t want to face. I had my nanites activated and extended close to our soldier.
Wilfried laughed. “No offense, Roman, Tasha, but I’ll be glad to fly among the stars again. It’s a lot easier than your hunting parties.”
Tasha looked at him. This was her home, the life she had known until three years ago. But, like him, she longed to pilot once again in space, feel the singularity behind her, bending space and crossing the invisible threshold between here and there in an instant.
She looked up at the evening stars rising above the horizon.
Anaru
Geneva Governmental Complex, July 25, 2140
The office overlooked the Alps, with a rare view over the last ice peaks in Western Europe. The sun was setting slowly. It was summer and the temperature of the early evening was still warm, even at this altitude.
Two men sat facing each other. 3D projections were spread all over the room, masking the view.
The largest projection showed the space station Acheron, tracked from the moon observatory. A cloud of debris surrounded it. To one side, a mute projection showed Maricar apologizing for the accident with bloodshot eyes. On the other side, Susanna was running a panel of analysts commenting passionately on the security of the space station, from the confines of their own homes. A fourth screen, with scenes from Noram, showed a convoy reaching Seattle, firefight marks marring the vehicles.
“We can’t continue like this, Anaru. You have used up three administrators trying to run the station. It’s key to your future and we don’t have the right staff yet.” The words felt like a sentence of doom in the quiet room.
“What’s your proposal, Nashiz?”
“Now that we have fully qualified pilots in the solar system, I want to turn the station over to them. Without it, they will lose their ship.”
“They have been trained to fly. Not to administer. They have no competency in that field.”
“You underestimate the technical training required to run a ship. They have more skills than you expect.”
Anaru didn’t entirely trust the glint in the Envoy’s eyes. This isn’t rational. They are not superhumans.
“And, from what I’ve read,” Nashiz continued, “the young Natalya Podorovski has had such training?”
Anaru closed his eyes. Somewhere, deep in his heart, he had expected this moment to occur. He had known Anton, Tasha’s father, well, and had witnessed the pain his friend had felt when his daughter, the heiress to the Conglomerate, had left for the Starpilot Academy. He would have been so proud of her, just for trying to build a trade consortium. But is she up to the task? She jumped on the first way out. What if this is an even worse idea?
“Anaru, I won’t leave you a choice about this. We must react to the journalists. I am transferring the station to Federation control and will hand it over to Miss Podorovski.”
“The Council will require that, if she fails, the station be returned to us.”
“Yes, Anaru. If she fails.”
“And some will require an agent of Earth to remain on board. Maricar could stay as second in command, to maintain continuity.”
“I would advise removing her from command and reallocating her elsewhere. She might not take the demotion well and she is too competent to be wasted.”
“Nashiz, she had the backing of the naysayers in the Council.” Anaru felt pleased, despite himself. He knew this wasn’t a good option. But he didn’t have any alternatives. “They will want one of their own up there still.”
“So, is it decided? Shall we call Miss Podorovski?” The order was politely phrased as a question, but Anaru made no mistake as to its true nature.
Anaru looked at him for a long minute, his mind racing for any other candidates, but found none. At last, he answered congenially, “Yes. We will need to work on a charter to get the station running under Federation control.” He pointed to the last 3D on one side. “Should we talk about the attack on the NorAm convoy?”
The event had troubled Anaru greatly. Losing both Iain and the spares in the convoy would hurt the station as much as the accident had. He didn’t believe in coincidences.
The Envoy thought for a moment. “Tasha will make her own investigations and ask us the correct questions, or she can’t handle the job. Let’s keep focused.”
Not for the first time, Anaru was shocked by the younger man’s ruthlessness. Anything to reach the target. How can you come from the most advanced planet in the Federation? Or are you here because you couldn’t remain there?
The Envoy made a brief hand signal to call a new 3D, li
nking with Tasha. She accepted it and appeared in the middle of the room.
“President, Envoy, how can I be of service?” If they had surprised her, she didn’t show it: her voice was composed and clear. She was walking under the clear starlight dressed in a military outfit.
Anaru took the lead. “Good evening, Miss Podorovski. Are we disturbing you? You aren’t in the Complex.”
“No, Mister President. A clan of tigroids crossed the Baikal limit. We went to talk to them.”
Anaru’s heart tightened in his chest. “Please tell me you didn’t go there alone!”
“Alone?” She smiled. “No. I wouldn’t say that. We organized a joint operation with the Governor. He was nice enough to lend us a good hundred soldiers. We brought the Complex Forces and our security troops. And our bodyguards as well.”
Anaru saw her father mannerisms in her. Direct action, just like him. It may work. “Any casualties? Everything back in order?”
“I don’t understand. Why would there be casualties?” interjected the Envoy in his grim voice. “Could you explain?”
Tasha bowed her head. “Envoy, we define a line which the tigroids are not allowed to cross. When they do, we push them back. Straight and simple, sir.”
Nashiz’s expression hardened. “You deliberately endangered yourself?”
“No, sir. We were two hundred against twenty, and all plans were approved by our Marines.” Behind her, a big soldier stirred, but Nashiz stopped him with a single wave of the hand.
“Miss Podorovski, you aren’t allowed to put yourself in any form of danger, besides flying a starship. I’m not happy with his foolishness. I’ll check what happened with Commander Grayt.”
The Podorovski heiress seemed stunned by the sudden onslaught but quickly reasserted herself. “You had a question? Mister President? Envoy?”
The Envoy answered, quickly shifting mood. “We’ve had another accident in the space station. One too many. We would like you, Tasha, to take over the management of the station.” Usually dispassionate, he seemed for once eager to move on. Anaru smiled briefly.
“Even if the construction is unfinished, the station is operational,” Tasha replied. “What are you expecting of me?”
Anaru coughed. “You’ve seen it for yourself. Living conditions in Acheron are now close to unbearable. We cannot run long-term activities from there. It’s falling apart faster than we build it. I want you to focus on finishing the job with the Project Committee for a few months before you can fly again. Every week, we will review construction progress with the key contractors.”
Tasha’s smile faded. “I’m here to fly, Mister President, Envoy, not to manage your work in progress. This is Maricar’s work.”
Nashiz coughed. “Miss Liwag is very competent. But she doesn’t have the training required for this. And she is not enhanced with nanites. She does her best, no doubt. But you have skills no one else on Earth possesses.” He paused briefly, letting the words sink in. “She would stay to help you run the station and give you time to fly.”
Tasha gulped. So I’ll need to run two jobs for you. Nothing less. “Any specific issues? What’s the problem?”
“Most of the contractors are running late. We have to get them back on schedule,” Anaru said. He had been fighting for months to get the work going and was happy to grab some support. “They are building something no one else on Earth has ever seen and they have trouble adjusting. Your experience on Adheek will be extremely valuable.”
“Let me inquire about it before I answer. But I’m going to have to fly our ship first. That won’t leave much time for your station. Did you draft a charter? I recall that a station under Federation control should follow the standard Federation Charter of operations?” Tasha seemed more at ease speaking about trade and regulations.
Nashiz answered, “Yes, we want you to review it. The major item we added is that the station will be run by the Federation unless it doesn’t work out, in which case it will revert to Earth operations.”
Anaru saw Natalya look behind her, probably at Wilfried, before she agreed. “Very well. I’ll read it, consult my fellow pilots and come back to you. Would three days be fitting?”
“Perfect,” said Anaru. “One last thing. We have a grand show coming to celebrate Gaia day. It’s two weeks from now and I’ll expect you to be there, at least virtually. Questions?” Anaru looked longingly at the mountains outside. The day had neared its end.
“None on our side. See you soon, sirs.” Tasha waved goodbye and cut the broadcast. The 3D disappeared.
“She looks like a tough young woman.” The Envoy rarely commented on any meetings.
“Her father was. And he trained her for a long time before she was chosen to go to Adheek.”
“Would she be a guild master in our worlds?” After having already committed them both, the Envoy seemed to need reassurance about his choice.
“From what I understand of your guilds, yes, she would be.”
“Good. She’ll need all those skills and acquaintances to make the station work. I’ll let you convey our decision to Maricar.” The scorn in the Envoy’s voice was palpable. You never liked her. She didn’t stand a chance.
The Envoy closed his desk and walked out of the office. Anaru remained for a while, pondering the discussion. At last, when the sky above him was dark, he called Maricar.
Tasha
Reborn Russia, Urals, July 27, 2140
“Your brother is expecting you in his office. Will you join him?”
Tasha was sipping her morning coffee in front of the lake, remembering old times, when her mother addressed her, her voice cold. They still hadn’t really had time to talk yet.
“Yes, Mother. Will you accompany me?”
“If you ask me, daughter mine.” She stood behind Tasha, a dark figure, a bad omen.
“I’d like that. Yes. Are you still angry?” Tasha stood up and left their private kitchen. They moved rapidly out of their own quarters to the area open to the public.
“Why should I be, daughter mine? You didn’t really have a choice, did you? Once they found out you could withstand those foreign things.”
Tasha wasn’t sure if her mother had accepted her departure, the daughter she had hoped would run the conglomerate, who would have had the seat she herself had never been allowed. Fear gripped Tasha. Does she suspect I fled all of this? Has she guessed? Never underestimate Elena Podorovski – this had been a hard-taught lesson of Tasha’s youth.
As if in answer to her silent question, her mother continued bitterly, “The question really is, are you ready to return now?”
Tasha walked back inside the house with her mother at her side. “Nikolai is in charge here now.” The statement was simple, a matter of fact.
“Yes, he is. You’ve got to find another place on this planet.” No hesitation, no openings.
“But we could work together. An alliance might be profitable?” Tasha dared to hope she wouldn’t be isolated just a few hundred thousand klicks from her home.
“Not for a long time. Many people don’t like those foreigners and their strange technology. Until you’ve proven your strength and your capacity to stand on your own, you’ll endanger us all.”
Scorn and spite. It doesn’t bode well. “United organization has asked me to run the space station. I’ve got to get it operational and build a trade base from it with the Federation.”
They reached the main elevator. Her mother let out a short bitter laugh. “Daughter mine, you left us behind your family’s conglomerate, an old and proud clan. And for what? To build your own in the stars? How ironic!” Then she added in a barely audible voice, “Remind me one day to tell you the real story of our beginnings, when we took the clan over with your father.” The story was a legend now, the clan nearly ruined at that time by her grandfather.
A retina scan opened the elevator. As soon as they were inside, it dropped into the ground toward the secure bunkers beneath. They had been built in the Cold War e
ra, two centuries earlier, left to rot in the mid-years, then resurrected by her great grandfather to house the family headquarters. In a minute, they were under the granite shelter, impervious to anything except a direct blast. Here, the walls were yellow, green and blue, calming pastel colors, and many were adorned with giant pictures of the lake and the mountains. Tasha’s grandfather had been very precise, providing the view they would have had if the headquarters had been above ground instead of below. It even smelled of pines.
Both of them greeted employees as they walked inside the complex – some real, many virtual, working from their remote offices. No sense in traveling, in a world in which transport was restricted.
“You don’t think I can succeed?” said Tasha at last, as they reached her father’s old office, now her brother’s. That fear had gripped her heart ever since she had returned from Adheek.
“Worse, my daughter.” A very thin smile appeared on those tight and stern lips. “I’m afraid of the cost you’ll pay for this success. There’ll be deaths.” The voice was steady, sad, knowing. The Podorovski family was an old conglomerate with a ruthless approach to competition. Tasha’s mother had helped her father many times to organize their darkest operations, the ones Tasha knew existed but hadn’t been told about. She nodded slowly, committing the words to memory.
“Now, don’t make your brother wait. This is unbecoming of you.” Her mother opened the door, disappearing behind it.
Tasha walked into the office, old memories springing to her mind. As a teenager she had spent many hours at the side desk which was empty today. Looking at it with new eyes, she saw how similar this place was to the guildmaster’s office on Adheek. Small, to make it welcoming, but not too small. Comfortable, without being overly luxurious. This was a place of business, efficient and powerful, neither a place to debase your enemies or to show your power.
“Nostalgic, sister?” Nikolai was behind her father’s desk, a new figure who didn’t possess as much presence. But his stature would grow over time.
