Space Station Acheron

by F Stephan

  “I’m not so sure he owns the station. In space, he can’t play politics. You know, once he was a great businessman. But those days are long gone. He has forgotten the rules of the game. The crew is the only key to survival up here. His elite friends can’t help him now. And he is not delivering the results he told Susanna about.”

  “You planned for this?”

  “Planned, no!” Jeanne laughed. “But he had no real choice. Either he becomes like you, managing the station despite everything that’s said on Earth, or he continues working with his current friends. Now, we’ll let him hang himself. You will soon need to fly back to the station.”

  “What about you? Shouldn’t I help you?” The week spent on the moon had been a welcome change. The station was now running, and Wilfried had sampled the first batch of tomatoes from the hydroponics farm.

  “Well, now that you mention it… The NorAm government installed an electromagnetic launcher to send back ore to Earth. But we lacked the computing capacity to make it work. Now I want to send an object to the station without touching it. With your nanites, you may break our curse and make it work. Come, I will show you the old cannon.”

  Every day, Wilfried discovered new hidden facilities in the base.

  Tasha

  Reborn Russia, Voronezh, March 18, 2141

  For three days, Tasha didn’t stop. They had requisitioned a bunker to perform their work. Every day, she divided her time between visiting the families of workers, the daily needs of the business and the different messages from governments and conglomerates, and each night arrived before she could finish all she had to do. There wasn’t just enough time. Her nanites improved her resistance beyond human capacities but, even with them, she had to stop and rest from time to time.

  At the end of the fourth day, Roman took Tasha to a side room of the bunker. Her mother waited for them. All of their eyes were bloodshot, their faces drawn by sheer exhaustion and worry. Nikolai was still in a deep coma, albeit in a more controlled condition.

  “You were on your way to us. Why were you coming here, Tasha?”

  Tasha took a deep breath before recounting the difficulties on the station and at the ball. “And in the middle of a sidewalk, Wilfried meets his brother.”

  “The Hamburg smuggler?” interrupted the stern man.

  “How do you know about him?” Roman waved the question away, and she continued, “He tipped us off about a Russian mercenary with whom you worked in the army and who needs my help. He may have information for us. You played poker with him.”

  Roman gazed at their mother before answering. “Around the same time, I received a new-year greeting message from Anton. Your Anton, working with Charon. Among all the niceties, he also sent a greeting from the poker liar.”

  “The poker liar. Who is he?” Tasha inquired slowly, noting the strange glances between Roman and her mother.

  Her security officer nodded. “It can only be Boris. A good friend of the regiment. A long time ago, he bragged that he could cross into tigroid territory to reach an old base from the last century. A place where they didn’t want people to go. We thought it was a lie.”

  “Do you know what became of him?”

  “A mercenary. Fell into hard times. A year ago, he vanished from the surface of the Earth. No sign of him left.”

  “So this is useless?” Tasha sighed.

  “Well, there is something strange. Recently, we have traced access to the network from an old control station deep into tigroid territory,” her mother interjected. “Someone making quick insertions into the network, grabbing data and fading back fast. I doubt anyone other than us has detected him.”

  “How?”

  “Once again, your grandfather and his paranoid old age. He was worried about someone crossing into tigroid territories to attack us. They would have to use the old network station for coordination. He rigged all the stations.”

  “You think your friend would hide there? But why?” Tasha mused, eyes unfocused.

  Roman took over again. “I don’t know. But what if this was a brag? If he crossed into that territory, no one could find him.”

  “You think we should go there? Cross to that network station? What if it’s a hoax or a trap?” Tasha shivered. She feared the beasts and now she would ride straight into their ground, close to where her father had died. Roman and her mother locked their gazes on her. She felt it in her guts. She counted three long breaths before answering slowly. “I’ll go.”

  Leopold

  Charon, March 24, 2141

  “Permission to come on board, Pilot.” The words felt antiquated, so formal. The old procedure had been fun with his crew, less so with the old man and his two security guys trailing behind him.

  Leopold bowed. “You’re welcome on board, Auditor. It’s our pleasure to carry you to Kalgoorlie Station.”

  As if I had a choice, when the Lord formally requested to the Envoy, according to Federation protocol.

  “Thank you for your kind words.”

  Leopold saw the lord’s eager eyes devouring the ship. “You’re sure everything will be fine on the station without you?”

  “I’ve left Maricar in command, with some of my people. I have full confidence in her.” The old man smiled at him, his eyes cold. “Would you show me around?”

  Leopold bowed and began his tour. They would be stuck with him for days on end for the trip back and forth, not counting the days on the mine. Yet, Leopold felt the genuine love for space from the older man. His eyes glinted as they walked down the corridors of the ship. This was a man who had waited his whole life for the Federation to appear. And then the miracle had come true when he was too old to go. He had probably sold his own soul many times over just to walk in the Charon. But today, you’ve made your first mistake. You shouldn’t tour the solar system, mate. Not now, when Acheron is slipping from your grasp.

  By the time the Lord had finished his tour of the ship, three hours had passed. Leopold pushed the ship through the jump point. Once again, it was difficult for him, and Rana was pale when he had finished. Afterward, he collapsed in his cabin, reviewing the day.

  The entire crew had looked as exhausted as he was. The leader had taken pains to point out all their failings and dysfunctional parts of the ship. He had overwhelmed all their explanations with quick statements about “quality over all”. Only Noul had resisted the powerful man, sending him out of the engineering main control room, stating “Federation only”, as short as the other man had been.

  Resentment boiled within Leopold, and he took him a long time to find sleep.

  Anaru

  Geneva Complex, March 25, 2141

  “Sorry?” The shout exploded in the quiet complex and birds took off from the roof above. Anaru was red from his anger, his fists slamming on his desk. At his right, Killian laughed, a thin, barely audible sound, which irked Anaru even more as he looked at the sour-faced CPC chief. Nashiz sat at his desk, watching intently.

  “The train broke down in Kiev. By the time it started again, our prisoner was dead. They used a mini-drone to crawl through the vents and reach the secure compartment,” said Yasmina sternly.

  “We had captured one terrorist and he is now dead. Before he could be tried,” Anaru continued shouting. His head was aching.

  “Mister President, this will play in our favor. Let me run this to the Council.” Anaru at last noticed Killian’s grin.

  “What for? We have no proof in a court action.”

  “Mister President, you wanted this trial and I understand why. I don’t need it. Laureen has built quite a coalition in the Council over the last months. But people are resenting her highborn attitudes. Reborn Russia is only waiting for a reason to leave their coalition. This could be the spark we need.”

  Anaru cooled down in an instant. “We won’t get back the control of the assembly this way.”

  “No. But if Laureen loses it, we can force a stalemate. Let me handle this, Anaru. Please!”

  Five
years ago, I would already have broken down their alliance. I’m getting slow. Anaru agreed and his guest quickly left the room.

  Nashiz looked up. “He’s good, this young man. But this is only stalling. We will not win this way.”

  “Yes, we have a new generation on its way to power. That’s a good thing. And no, we won’t win.”

  “So, I have no choice. I must authorize Tasha’s trip. This plan of hers is mad. Your foremost pilot will go where we can’t protect her.”

  “Her bodyguard will be with her at all times. And the Marine response force will be ready for action. Lelal should delay any threat to her long enough to let the Marines reach her.”

  “She is just a human. Her nanites give her enhanced abilities, but a headshot will kill her like anyone else. Anaru, there are few like her in the Federation.”

  “I know, Envoy. But today, either she gets information we need, or we’ve lost. Laureen and her clique will take over the Council and throw the Federation out. You’ll lose one planet.”

  Anaru knew the Envoy could stop his plan with a single word. The Envoy sat watching the Alps from the window. Long minutes passed.

  “Go.”

  Andrew

  Space station Acheron, March 26, 2141

  Andrew rested in his bunk. His reading light flickered above him. He knew the phenomenon well – it had present for years until they had installed the new computer. And now, it had returned. Everywhere in the station, the distribution of water, air, and electricity was slowly losing its coherence and the security which all crewmember loved over the past months. Stop. We cannot go on like this.

  Accepting that he wouldn’t sleep anymore, he got up and dressed in his uniform. The station was sleeping, and he reached the bridge quickly. Lord Burroughs was out and his goons were sleeping. The place was empty. Where is the night shift? Damn. We can’t leave the station uncontrolled. He entered the secure chamber that protected the computers managing the station. The main computer they had spent months calibrating was missing, leaving only a gaping hole.

  He made a call to Reiner and quickly left the bridge for the engineering bay on the opposite side of the wheel. It took him a good thirty minutes, as many people seemed to be moving through the airlocks in that direction. No one spoke. But it wasn’t until he reached his destination that he saw that half the crew had gathered in the large room.

  The tall German, Reiner, sat on top of a crate, watching the crowd. All were chatting restlessly. Andrew approached him directly, noting in passing the little Kimi at his side.

  “We’ve got a problem, big man,” he called out. “They have stolen our main computer. The station cannot work anymore.”

  Angry mutters welcomed his words.

  “And there was me thinking you were all here for my birthday!” boomed Reiner, interrupting the chatter. “Be thankful to Kimi for preparing the cake.” He blew a kiss to the girl who hissed back and laughed. Shouts echoed in the hall and Reiner bellowed for calm.

  “Andrew, we all trust you here. Speak your mind. It will save us all some time.”

  “Well, the Lord has left for the station. From what I’ve heard, Maricar has boarded the shuttle back to Earth without warning. Only the goons remain with us, and they know nothing about running the station. We need to call the Pilot back.”

  A murmur of assent welcomed his words. Andrew had talked with Reiner of this possibility, but he had never imagined he would be the one saying it aloud, in front of everyone. He knew he was blushing fiercely.

  Reiner turned to face the crew. “I thought the Lord had ensured your obedience with his offers?”

  Calls of outrage echoed in the hall, but were then stifled by his gaze.

  “I would say you’re right, Andrew. Anyone here disagrees? You can leave and ask the goons for support.”

  From the back, a voice shouted, “Too late, they’re sleeping soundly. Medical requirements, you understand.”

  Andrew turned to look at the cook smiling at the other side of the room. Two crew members had turned to the airlock, but stopped short. We are not an old frigate over the ocean. Mutiny is as easy as a sleeping pill in a dish.

  Wilfried

  Space station Acheron, March 27, 2141

  Wilfried and Reiner sat facing Earth in the cupola above the external wheel of the station.

  “Welcome back,” Reiner said in the accented German of the shadow-wharves.

  “Thanks, pal,” answered Wilfried, not wanting to continue in his mother’s tongue. It had been a rush, flying back from the moon, responding to Reiner’s simple message asking him to return and bring the station back to order.

  “Oh, the situation is upsetting you more than I suspected. Tell me more.” His friend’s voice had become a low quiet rumble.

  “Yes. How could anyone steal such a large computer from the bridge? We’ve searched the station and it’s nowhere to be found.”

  “It would require a large briefcase. Easy to take on board the last shuttle to Earth. Who left?”

  “Maricar. Apparently, her contract reached its end last week and she decided to move back to Earth. Sent her resignation to Anaru at the last minute. Three other crew members flew back to Earth at the same time. Mara from the kitchen, Henri, a cargo loader, and Xiaogang, from communications.”

  “All of them had access to the bridge. We raised the alarm. The guy in New Mexico will intercept our friends on the shuttle.”

  “The shuttle had an incident on the way down and crash-landed close to the NorAm coast. It will take a couple weeks to transfer it to Cape Kennedy for repair, and probably a month for repairs. No resupply during that time, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s where your supplies from the moon will make a difference. The Lord already set up rationing. So, whoever took the computer is now somewhere in NorAm. Did you ask for the help of the police? You’re part of them now.”

  Wilfried sighed inwardly. “What for? To get Laureen Cattlin on our back? We have taken over the station against the United Organization’s orders. Lord Burroughs is conveniently out of reach. Certainly with proof that the computer was in place when he left.”

  “They believe you will charge him and discredit yourself?”

  Wilfried nodded soberly.

  “A security division under the command of the President?”

  “Useless for this things.” Wilfried replayed his call with Anaru. “They have field operatives working, but they are limited in numbers. I’ve called Anaru. He has set his team onto on the search. He can’t do more than that. Chances are slim unless we are tipped off.”

  “It’s a start, at least. And the Federation Marines? They’re fearsome, aren’t they?” Reiner sounded fearful, which was rare.

  “No, they need to have a target to act on. We don’t have a locator on that computer.” Wilfried swore. “Without mentioning the need to convince Commander Grayt not to look at it once he recovers it.”

  “OK. So, if I sum it up, you can’t find it on your own and official forces can’t do a thing for you.” When they were boys, Reiner had spent long hours coaching Wilfried on life outside the wharf, believing in the younger kids. “Your brother?”

  Wilfried turned to his friend. “I can’t. I’m the Observer. I’m the one who has to keep the rules in place and the station out of trouble. I just can’t. Meeting him in New York was already stretching things.”

  As Reiner pondered this, Wilfried recalled his talk with Althal before he had left Adheek. She had been adamant about his duty regarding the health of the other pilot and the illegal use of nanites. But she hadn’t talked about anything else.

  At last, Reiner broke the silence. “From what you’ve told me, the Federation lets governments do whatever they want unless they threaten potential pilots or trade.”

  “Reiner, get to the point, please!”

  “Do whatever you need to keep the station working. This is the only rule of the game the Federation plays. Time for you to work more with your shadier friends. Why do y
ou think your brother sent me here?”

  “I thought you had been trapped by your actions?”

  Reiner shrugged.

  Wilfried thought this over while Earth rotated before him. The Americas came into view. “No one from the wharf has deep enough contacts in NorAm. I can’t go that way.” Wilfried wasn’t as much an idealist as his friend believed. He’d already considered the option.

  Again, Reiner adopted his coaching voice, an even lower rumble than normal. “Did you hear of the Cattlin? The husband, I mean?”

  “The father of Emily, yes. The one with shady connections all over Central America?”

  “Used to be. Your information is a bit out of date. Now it’s wider than that. I would say all over the Americas. Your brother has a lot of contracts with him. If someone can find your missing computer, it’s him. Be careful when you ask him.”

  Josh

  NorAm Alliance, Washington, March 27, 2141

  The underground city nestled in the old St Andrews bunkers. The former army base had been taken over by rebels when the old republic had crumbled into pieces. It had remained a dissident stronghold in the new NorAm alliance, a maze of a cool air fifty yards below the surface.

  Josh arrived via the Potomac River and the underground wharf. At the turn of the last century, the rebels had dug over ten klicks to build the installation, and workers continued to maintain the tunnels, making it one of the largest markets in NorAm. In many places around the world, life felt safer below.

  A fast submarine had brought Josh here when the order had come. A strange order, bypassing the standard security procedure, directly from the top. And an even stranger vessel. Josh hadn’t known there were still nuclear vessels roaming the seas. Many had broken down over the years and were buried in concrete to avoid contaminating the oceans. This one had picked him up from the island of Cuba, where he was recruiting a new crew of mercenaries, and had rushed him here in less than a day, locked alone in a cabin. After that trip, he had welcomed walking among the crowd of bystanders.