by Bob Mauldin
“Where are you taking me?” Brian asked
“To see the First Captain, of course. That is what you wanted, isn’t it, sir? Her office is on a different deck.”
Brian followed the crewman down a crowded, metal-walled corridor and up in an elevator, equally crowded. Kinda like a hive, he thought, with all the people running around on unknown missions dressed alike and acting so serious. Or, more like some giant machine going about the business of replicating itself.
The areas he’d passed through so far seemed to be mainly living quarters. So many people! He wondered how they kept from killing each other. His escort finally stopped in front of a door with a brass plaque at one side.
“Fleet Headquarters,” he read. “First Captain Lucy Grimes, Commanding.”
Pressing a button below the plaque, the escort said, “Lt. Commander Trent reporting. I have a visitor for the captain.”
The door slid silently open, and the man gestured for Brian to enter first. The room he walked into was about as ordinary as any secretary’s office could be except for the metal walls and lack of windows.
“Welcome aboard the Galileo, Mr. Jeffers. Please have a seat. You’ll be able to go in momentarily.”
While it seemed that the woman was busily shuffling papers around and making occasional notes, it also seemed he was under her constant scrutiny.
And who can blame ‘em, after what happened to their boss. And here I am, telling ‘em he’s not really dead.
Brian stared around the office. He saw a coffee table covered with magazines—none old he noticed—flowers in vases, all freshly cut, and pictures on the walls. All pretty prosaic, until looking at the pictures more closely. He got up and went over to look at them. He recognized a Mamba in flight from the telecasts, but the backdrop was blackest space with a rock in the near background. An asteroid! he realized. He saw what could only be the Galileo in another picture, and in another, three ships together—the Galileo with two others and Earth in the background. The small brass plaque beneath it read: Galileo, Heinlein and McCaffrey in Earth orbit. All of them appeared to be authentic photographs.
Brian turned around when heard the secretary speak.
“Follow me, please.” The Asian-looking woman got up and led him into another room. Furnished on the lines of a conference room, it had a long, narrow table capable of seating at least fifteen people with chairs to match, five of which were already filled, and more of the same type of photographs that had been in the secretary’s office.
Somewhat surprised to find five people waiting when he entered the room, Brian hesitated a second.
“Please Dr. Jeffers. Have a seat. I’m Lucy Grimes, and with me today are Captains Kane of the McCaffrey, Miller of the Clarke, and Greene of the Niven. Also present is Commander Walker of our Science Division. You’ve already met Commander Kimura, who’ll be recording this session. I understand you have a most... original story to tell us. Please. Go ahead.”
The group he faced didn’t project optimism so much as a polite willingness to listen to his story. He sat in the chair indicated and reached out, picking up the glass sitting in front of him.
“I don’t know where to start except at what was the beginning for me.” He took a sip from the glass, relieved to find that it was just water, and set it down with deliberate care as he ordered his thoughts. “It was evening on July 28th when my brother called and told me he had a patient filled with bullet holes...”
“Well,” Robert Greene said after Brian finished his story. “That’s quite a tale, Dr. Jeffers. It ties everything up into a nice neat package and even explains the pistol. But it doesn’t convince me that someone like Daniels would go against a lifetime of training and conditioning on such short notice. The dilemma would paralyze most people.”
“I say let’s go for it,” Gayle said excitedly. “It’s just the thing Simon would do! He’s a target, so he can’t travel openly. He can’t get to Europe where Lucy has been. And he can’t openly approach someone in the United States until we can get an embassy open. He knows Brandt and Collier, of course, so naturally he’d go there.”
Stephen looked up from the sheet of notes and doodles he’d been playing with. “Simon was... is... nothing if not daring. And inventive. It’s the correlation between coincidence and Daniels that keeps getting in my way though. There are just too many of them. It was coincidence that he chose that particular time to stow away, and he just happened to have stolen a laser, and just happened to exit the craft right before it was destroyed. He happened to stop to see if Simon was alive and then just happened to find your brother’s mission, Mr. Jeffers. You see where I’m headed with this? Or do I need to continue?”
Marsha spoke into the angry silence that followed. “Stephen, we all know how close you were to Simon. And you, too, Gayle. You were his friend from way before. But, guys, we’ve all seen the videos. I don’t buy this hiding-in-the-smoke nonsense. It’s too convenient. Somebody wants to use these two,” she said, gesturing angrily in Brian’s direction, “as some kind of smokescreen to get next to us. Look, you all saw the video. Kitty blew that shuttle and half of Camp David into their component atoms. And Simon went up with it, along with three others.”
In other times and places, the look on Lucy’s face would have been called the “thousand-yard stare,” and it burned a hole through Brian as she turned in his direction. “Well, I want to thank each of you for your opinions. I hate decisions like this. I swear to God that if Simon were alive, I’d kill him for dumping this on me, but I don’t see any choice.”
Commander Kimura drew all eyes when she stood up and spoke. “I beg your pardon, First Captain, but I think there’s a voice not represented here. Captain Hawke, Kitty, that is, has just as much at stake, even more, than the rest of you. I know how she felt about Agent Daniels and since so much of your decision is based on your opinions of him, you should hear hers. I was there when Captain Kitty met with Agent Daniels during her recovery from her... breakdown after finding the alien ship. After their meeting, she told me he was an honorable man working for the wrong side. She said she felt that he would be the kind of person she could come to like under the right circumstances. And I think saving her husband’s life qualifies, if he truly did save it. I agree that there’s reason for doubting the whole story at present, but there are also reasons to believe that it happened exactly as Dr. Jeffers said. Coincidences do happen. Look at the finding of the Galileo herself. Could Simon, Kitty, and Gayle have come into possession of her without the greatest of coincidences? The coincidences we’re discussing here pale in comparison,” she said, waving a hand in Brian’s direction. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, as an old saying goes. Just because he’s an agent of a government doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a heart or principles. Governments are made up of people, both good and bad. Aren’t we, here, right now, a government of a kind? Are we bad people? Must Agent Daniels be a bad person because he works for a government? For Captain Kitty’s sake, if no other reason, you need to check this out.”
Lucy listened without comment all the while Commander Kimura spoke. A thoughtful look stayed on her face as she asked, “Does anyone have anything else to say?” Heads shook and fingers twiddled until Brian hesitantly lifted his hand. “Yes, Dr. Jeffers?”
“Simon, that is, Captain Hawke, knew this would be the probable reaction. During his... less depressed... moments, we talked. Mostly he did. The man can spin a good yarn, that’s for sure. Anyway, he said that if nobody believed me, as was likely to happen, I was to ask Captain Grimes a question. As I understand it, Simon meant the question to be the key here, not the answer.”
“Well, what’s the question?” Robert asked with exasperation.
Ignoring the taciturn young man sitting almost across from him, Brian looked to the head of the table at the woman who’d said relatively little during the entire meeting. “Captain Grimes, the question is, ‘When was the last time you thanked Professor Westo
n?’”
A confused look settled onto Lucy’s face, and the newly promoted Captain Greene spoke into the silence. “What the hell kind of question is that? Every one of us who’ve revealed ourselves, and probably quite a few who haven’t, have already been investigated by the government, and I’ll bet they know everything about us down to the brand of diapers we wore.”
Lucy’s eyes twitched left and right as though she were reading a book while her mind processed the question. “Let me think a minute, Robert,” she said as she tried to put two people together from two totally disparate portions of her life. The silence seemed to go on forever, but it couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds before she exclaimed, “Oh... my... God!” A blush started on her cheeks, spread quickly across her face, and down her neck.
At the chorus of startled exclamations that followed her own, Lucy said, “I had to put together how it would be possible for Simon to have known anything at all about Professor Weston. There’s only one instance I can remember that I mentioned his name in Simon’s presence. And as embarrassing moments in my life go, that particular event was one of the most embarrassing. You were there, Robert. As a matter of fact, the whole thing was your fault! You were the one who figured out that we could turn the gravity off on deck eighteen. And do you remember what I said that day, floating in midair along with everyone else?”
Greene shook his head in bafflement. “I remember the day well, as well as the event, but I don’t remember what you said.”
“Of course, you don’t. It wasn’t an embarrassing moment for you. But it was for me, and I still recall the day very vividly. To this day, I don’t know which of Newton’s laws it was, but I do remember that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Which meant, Robert, that I started by taking off my shoes one at a time and throwing them away from me so I would move toward the gravity-control panel. But it wasn’t enough. By the time I reached the panel, I wasn’t dressed for a public viewing unless it was in the centerfold of Playboy, remember?”
“I confess that I don’t remember, Lucy,” Robert said.
“Well, as I said, there are parts I remember very clearly, and I definitely remember this. I said, ‘Thank you, Professor Weston!’ That means, ladies and gentlemen, at least as far as I’m concerned, Simon Hawke is alive!”
CHAPTER NINE
“We ran the prints through NCIC, sir, and it seems that we really do have Agent Daniels in custody in Aurora, Colorado,” the earnest-looking young man said. His short hair and conservatively cut dark suit made him look like he’d been stamped from the same mold as the other man in the room. “And it looks like the man arrested with him is Simon Hawke.”
The man behind the desk had a sleepy look on his face, and Richard Stanton had worked long hours to be able to adopt that look when he needed it. Most people would either underestimate him because of it or think he just wasn’t listening. Either one was a plus in his line of work. “Name sounds familiar. Wait a minute. You don’t mean the guy from the damned Alliance, do you, Agent Wilson? The one who went up with Camp David?
“Yes, sir, I do. It seems he didn’t die after all. I recommend that we get a team out to Colorado and get them both back here where we can keep a close eye on them.”
“Who knows they’re out there?” Stanton asked.
“Well, sir, there are a few, it seems. I would guess all the members of the Aurora Police Department know, since we put out that notice to be on the lookout for Daniels. Then there are the ones here who took the call about their arrest, and the agent who passed the information to me. And of course, you, sir,” Agent Wilson said. “I don’t have a specific number though.”
“Our people here, I’m not worried about. Get word to that police department that they’re to keep this under wraps. It already had a security tag on it, but it has just become a matter of national security, and if one word gets out, people are going to be shoveling shit with their bare hands for life. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir!”
“And we won’t move either of them right now. Get an interrogation team out there to find out what the hell is going on with Daniels. And see what they can sweat out of Hawke while they’re at it. Anything else?”
“Just one other thing, sir. It appears that Hawke is wounded. The arrest report details that he has a severe limp, his wrist in a cast, his arm in a sling, and a scalp wound.”
“That’s consistent with what we’ve been able to piece together from that cluster-fuck Anderson set up at Camp David. And find out who’s been giving him medical attention, too. We have enough traitors in our midst. Get a move on, Agent. Pick your team and be there yesterday. Got it?”
“Yes, sir, Director,” was the only response as he moved through the door.
Once Lucy committed herself to the possibility that Simon was alive, she wasted no time setting up a way to get him back. “And we’ll bring Daniels with him. I want answers, and he seems to be right in the middle of the whole thing.”
An extended interrogation of Brian resulted in finding out, among other things, the true extent of Simon’s injuries.
“So, who did the patch job on Simon?” Robert asked.
“I’ve already told you. I did,” Brian said, exasperation shortening his tone. “I got a call at about eight p.m. on the twenty-eighth. When I got there, I pulled a bullet out of his left thigh, patched his left shoulder—the round missed all major blood vessels, thank God—set his wrist, and cleaned up his scalp wound. I set up antibiotic therapy for the infection that was beginning to set in and helped him get past the shock and back on his feet. I played nursemaid for him all the way out here. And I figured out for myself that he wasn’t who Daniels said he was. It was a military 7.62 mm round that I pulled out of his leg. The only rounds of that kind that had been fired recently had been at Camp David that morning, and that fit in with the look of the wound and the beginnings of the infection. Roland finally told us to keep us quiet. Hell, he had to trust someone.”
Stephen, always invited to any Captain’s Call, asked, “How did those two get picked up and not you two?”
“Simon and Roland concocted the idea to split into two groups, saying that way we had a better chance of getting in touch with you.” He shrugged, hands out, palms up. “Bad luck, I guess. Or good detective work by the bad guys. I don’t know.”
Mustafa Morgan, the Galileo’s newest captain, broke in. “There’s a problem with your story, Mister Jeffers. What doctor in Washington, D.C. makes house calls?”
“I lost my license to practice medicine. I was caught prescribing medications that I shouldn’t have for patients who were terminal. My conscience didn’t have a choice. The Board didn’t either. So, I work for my brother on occasion when the need is desperate. Look,” Brian said finally, “I’ve been straight with you guys. Time will prove me right. My brother walked away from his position with the Church and came along because he’s as much of a visionary as I am. As you people are for that matter. Timothy fancies himself as the first missionary on the Last Frontier. Surely you have people aboard your ships who feel a need for church services?”
“Well, yes,” Gayle answered, looking around the table. “There are unofficial services held that aren’t of any specific faith, led by whoever wants to get up and say a prayer or sing a hymn, but we don’t have anything structured.”
“I get the impression from Simon that you’re short of qualified doctors, too,” Brian said. “And I think we could both contribute a lot if you’d let us.”
“Mr. Jeffers… Doctor,” Lucy corrected herself as she stood up and walked down the length of the table, “I realize that you have questions, too, but now isn’t the time for us to get into long answers. It appears we have a rescue to set up. Please accept my apologies and a rain check for you and your brother to visit after this is over. And you can sign on if you still want to, of course.” Lucy shook Brian’s hand and said, “It’s the least we can do if your info
rmation turns out to be good.” She turned to Kimura. “Please see that Doctor Jeffers gets a wristband, Commander. Level five, if you would. And see that he gets back to Earth.” Dismissing him from her mind, Lucy got back to the Captain’s Call.
“She’s not that abrupt, usually,” Kimura apologized as she led her charge down the hall. “She has a lot on her mind of late, and now this. You realize that this is almost as new to us as it is to you? We’ve only been out here for about three years, and she’s been in charge for less than two weeks. Is it any surprise that she should feel overwhelmed?”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Commander. I’ve had a lot of my own preconceived notions challenged a lot more recently than yours. What’s this about a ‘level five wristband?’”
Kimura answered as she led him into a room a short way down the corridor from the briefing room. “It’s a communicator, basically, a very simple one at level five. It will allow us to send a low-level charge through your wrist, a tingle, so to speak, and get your attention. Sit here,” she said, motioning to a chair positioned beside a small box on a table. “Put your hand in here,” she continued as she set a series of controls on the front of the machine. “When you feel the tingle, you’ll press the red button to let us know you’re in a secure location to be beamed up. If you’re not near a secure location, press the blue button. If it’s an Emergency, you’ll get a sharper tingle.”
“Suppose I press the red button without getting a signal?”
“It had better be important. Level five means that you’ll be met by armed security.”
“Trust me, Commander, I don’t want to have to test that statement. But I have another question.”
“Ask me on the way to Transport Control. You can remove your arm now.” The commander inspected the wristband circling Brian’s wrist. “It appears to be in order. Follow me, please.” As she led Brian down the corridor to the elevator, she asked over her shoulder, “What was your question?”
