Been There, Done That

by Mackey Chandler

  “The vessel is so specialized, what else could they intend to use it for but to mount a relief expedition?” Jeff asked.

  “One could plant another colony far away from the current one and leave them to their own devices,” Chen said. “I admit that wouldn’t be very popular with the public, but if they wait long enough some critical system will fail and there won’t be anyone to rescue. But we have no handle on all of that. We called because Tetsuo here is in possession of both the freeze dried organism and the bacteriophage.”

  Papa-san held up two glass ampoules and smiled.

  “Oh my God… I’m terrified to think of that being on Home,” April said. “If it got loose we’d be in the same boat as the Martians.”

  “No indeed,” Papa-san objected, “we have the bacteriophage. Also the ampules are very high strength glass. You aren’t going to crack them open with a thumbnail. The procedure is to notch the neck with a diamond file and crack them open with long handled pliers.”

  “Why do you even have such a thing?” April asked, and suddenly realized she sounded just like Delores objecting to her having a fusion weapon. “I don’t mean to sound so… disapproving, it just scares me.”

  Papa-san spread his hands in a placating gesture. It didn’t have the desired result since it left the ampules dangling between his thumb and finger.

  “Senior intelligence agents often have opportunity to acquire portable assets when they conduct an investigation. If one is collecting information on a new tank or aircraft you obviously can’t stuff a sample in your carry-on. But if you crack a diamond smuggling enterprise a number of fine uncut stones may jump in your pocket during the course of the investigation. Or if you are looking at electronic assets a few chips may be miscounted when you turn the samples in. They turn a blind eye to a certain level of acquisition. However I know of one colleague who had to be sternly reminded to turn in thirty kilograms of Plutonium he’d carelessly set aside when dealing with some terrorists. There are limits to it.”

  “So you don’t have any interest in using them yourself?” Jeff asked. “You’d make them available to us if we wanted to apply a political solution to the crisis?”

  “We don’t have the requisite transportation to utilize them,” Papa-san said. “You’ve always treated us very well when we conveyed information, whether requested or something we stumbled upon we knew would be of interest to you. Consider this to be covered under your generous retainer, and if it turns out to be particularly profitable, we’re sure you will share the benefits appropriately.”

  “As I said, I don’t like the Martians,” April said, looking from Jeff to Heather. “Yet I’d hate to see the Earthies, whichever Earthies are the guilty parties, to think biowarfare is suddenly a permissible and effective way to deal with spacers. That’s not to say I’d gift them with a cure for their problem as a public service. This play is at a level between sovereign states, so I’d leave it to Heather to decide what to do.”

  “I’d sell it to them,” Heather said bluntly, “if they had anything with which to pay. Trouble is they don’t produce much of anything but research and political propaganda. I don’t think they have even found any ore bodies to license us to mine. What could they offer we want?”

  “They are claiming to be the only authority on the planet,” Jeff pointed out. “I suppose, if they are successful in that, they can offer land grants. You seem to have your hand in for real estate already,” he told Heather. “What would be a generous enough grant to let them continue their existence? We don’t know what we might find, but any patch of dirt with gravity has some value, doesn’t it?”

  “If it isn’t near them,” Heather said. “I have no desire to be their neighbors.”

  “They are near the equator,” Jeff reminded her. “Perhaps some territory near one of the poles? There is a seasonal deposit of volatiles there if nothing else.”

  “You don’t want a patch opposite them on the equator to build a beanpole?”

  “It might take some time, but I think that would put us in conflict eventually,” Jeff said. “I’d rather ask for everything down to the fiftieth parallel from a pole.”

  “Just one pole?” Heather asked. “Even that is a vast territory. I have my doubts they would cede something like that.”

  “I think two would be psychologically difficult for them,” Jeff said. “They’d feel surrounded. It seems little enough if their survival is in the balance. But we could negotiate. Or rather you could negotiate it. I don’t negotiate… well.”

  The two spies seemed interested in the byplay, but stayed silent. Heather looked up at them and frowned. “Can those samples be increased to amounts that would serve the Martians in a reasonable time? And can you make sure we retain them for our own use, in case somebody should decide to use them against us?”

  “There are two pharmaceutical companies on Home who have the facilities to make both vaccines and bacteriophages in short run batches,” Chen assured her. “Either or both should be able to make sufficient in a week to satisfy the Martians. If they have a production run for stock in process you might have to pay them a fee to dump that run to expedite yours. If they are tied up with all custom work against a deadline they may insist on meeting their contract no matter what you offer. Should I inquire?”

  “Please do so, and start them working on it if possible,” I’d rather not approach the Martians until I have a hard deliver date,” Heather said. “If I must negotiate with the scum I want it to be from a position of strength with hard numbers to offer.”

  Chapter 20

  “Director Schober there is a video call for you on the Phobos link,” His secretary said. “I think you should take it.”

  That was odd. Phil usually could decide whether to put a call through to him without any drama and discussion. He activated the screen and was faced with a young woman he didn’t recognize. It seemed to be a ship interior behind her.

  “Director Schober, I’m Heather Anderson, the Sovereign of Central on the Moon. I am aware of the nature of the assault against your base, and wish to sell you information how to deal with it and a physical cure. Are you interested?”

  “You aren’t speaking to me from the Moon,” Schober objected. “You are quite close to me if you expect to speak without a huge lag.”

  “Of course I’m not. I do understand you are sick and may have difficulty focusing, but I said I’m from the Moon, not speaking from there. Do try to track,” Heather implored him. “We are loitering near Phobos in the vessel Dionysus’ Chariot, and using your own satellite com system to speak to you.” She didn’t mention the Hringhorni lurking nearby, with Jeff, Alice, and Barak keeping an over watch.

  “I can deliver a cure for the illness you are all suffering within the hour if you are interested. It includes an explanation of all we know about its nature, origins, and history.

  “I can’t really tell you who inflicted this upon you. We have a laundry list of people who might have done it, but I imagine you do too. Our list may be a bit bigger because we have some idea who has the means, where your list would be primarily everyone who you know you’ve pissed off.”

  “How do we know you didn’t transmit this cursed thing to us to put us in this bargaining position?” Schober demanded.

  “Now really, do stop and think a little,” Heather suggested. “We are going to offer a deal whose value to us depends on you being the only sovereign political entity on the planet. If you did not exist we would have a bare planet ripe to have claims made upon it. It would be much simpler, if less moral, to simply drop a single small missile on you and the planet would be uninhabited again. I can’t think how anybody could connect it to us, much less prove it. Or we could just wait until your supply situation and the failure of your environmental systems does the same thing and leaves some free infrastructure. I suppose the Europeans might claim an ownership interest, but do you doubt that the failure of your colony is a very likely outcome?”

  Schober didn’t
address that but asked. “What do you want for it?”

  “I’m into real estate development. That’s the basis of my nation on the Moon. We’d like to allow you to convey a clear title to property around one of the poles. As far as I know one pole is pretty much the same as the other. You can pick which one for all I care. And if a pole turns out to have some unique value later you’ve retained one in your own possession as well as all the middle latitudes.

  The pain in his guts was joined by one in his chest, and Schober put a flat hand over both, leaning forward a bit. Heather was briefly worried he was having a heart attack, and she precipitated it.

  “Excuse me a moment, I’ll be right back and discuss this with you further.” Schober retreated to his private restroom, relieved himself and washed his face with cold water. He took a small sip but was just as happy he was pretty much empty, and wanted to stay that way so he didn’t have to keep doing this. That would be a horrible position from which to negotiate.

  “OK,” Schober said upon returning, “let’s talk time and numbers.”

  * * *

  Heather hit the key to disconnect and leaned back. Their negotiations had only lasted a half hour, she was exhausted, and so must Schober be too, if he was half as ill as he appeared.

  “That’s all I think we could get,” Heather said. “I wonder if Chen and Papa-san will approve or think I wimped out?”

  “A wet ink treaty, the entire southern polar cap down to the sixtieth parallel, and guaranteed non-interference in orbital access? I think it was like getting the Louisiana Purchase for an ounce Au,” April said. “And I have to agree I didn’t want you exposing yourself to sign, not even suited up out on the tarmac. There would be too many people and we wouldn’t have control of a mob scene.

  “I think they already were using the workers waiting to go home as hostages, even if it wasn’t said explicitly, and they could do the same to you. Neither did I think we should have any part in the agreement that others might construe as our being an ally of these creeps. I’m sure they will do something that would make that an untenable position.”

  “Set us down on their field,” Heather ordered Delores. “They have a man from supply coming out with our hard copy, and I’ll go swap the case with him.”

  “I’ll go swap the stuff,” Delores said, “and you’ll stay strapped in ready to lift the ship if they pull some stupid crap. We don’t risk our sovereign, and it’s beneath your dignity. April can lift you from her board if I can’t get back.”

  The Dionysus’ Chariot dropped on the field like falcon on a hare. If they expected a normal shuttle approach and intended any treachery it would be very difficult. The ship was at fourteen G decelerating until a kilometer from the ground. It took that long to spool down the gravity compensators.

  Delores scrambled to get to the airlock and open both doors. She kicked out the ladder and went down hand over hand with the case hung around her neck. Their man was walking out to meet her with a thin attaché case. He didn’t seem to be armed and they both just walked until they met, neither trying to judge a halfway point or force the other to advance.

  Delores held the case out and held her other hand open waiting for the documents. The man surprised her by setting the case on the pavement, and holding a single digit up imploring her to not turn away.

  “I’m Adam Fallat, and I am a spy. I beg you for rescue. You are my only chance to escape. I’ll be killed now if you reject me since others will be listening on the suit frequencies. I have critical information about what has been happening here that is worth saving me. If you don’t take me with you I’m going to open my faceplate and commit suicide.”

  “Come on then and run,” Delores decided on the instant. There would be armed men coming from the building soon if she stood around asking Heather what she should do on the radio. She dropped the Martian’s copy on the pavement and snatched up their case.

  “Just lay down in the lock and I’ll lift us to a safe height before you come up to your couches,” April said.

  Delores urged Adam up the ladder opened the case to make sure it wasn’t a bomb, slammed it shut and swarmed up the ladder after him catching up easily. When she turned around Adam was flat on his back. She unhooked the ladder and heaved it out the open port, rolled over and shouted “GO!” Before she was all the way flat the deck came up to meet her.

  April kept it to a reasonable three Gs, but rolled and accelerated almost parallel to the ground. Looking out the open lock was disturbingly like a helicopter ride, except the ground was soon streaking past at a rate no helicopter could produce. April finally turned and climbed for altitude. It would be an interesting story to tell, if anybody believed it, but nothing she’d care to do again.

  “OK, you have two minutes to get your butts in the acceleration couches,” April ordered, and cut the acceleration. Delores dragged Adam through the inner lock and manhandled him forward to the couch, slapping two belts across him before she went to forward to her own seat. He wasn’t exactly resisting her, but he was clumsy and not much help, like dressing a toddler.

  “I know you’ve been in zero G before,” Delores barked at him angry. “Why didn’t you motivate to get your butt in your seat?”

  “Madam, I tried. I’m quite sick. Just walking out to you was an effort, and the sprint to the ship took more than I thought I could give. I’m afraid I’ve had an accident in my suit a diaper won’t contain. I’m just trying very, very hard not to throw up too. The suits handle that even worse.”

  “Why did they send you out if you were that sick?” Delores asked, but she was having a hard time staying angry.

  “I’m better off than most and of course I needed to accept the assignment for my own survival. You have no idea how bad it is back there. I’m afraid I’m going to be a very bad traveling companion, unless you decide to push me out the lock.”

  “We’ll be back before we have to let you out of the suit,” April said from beside him. He rolled his head over and looked at her, unbelieving. It was actually a nonsense statement to him he couldn’t process, since it couldn’t mean what he thought he heard. Then he looked out the forward ports and the Earth and Moon were there.

  “Mon Dieu,” he said in a hushed voice.

  * * *

  “I have things to tell you,” Adam protested when they put him on the gurney.

  “There’s nothing that can’t wait a day or three. Let them get you back on your feet,” April insisted. “They’ll tell me when you are well enough to have an extended conversation with me.”

  “Just one quick thing then!” Adam asked, and raised an imploring hand. “In case I get worse or am silenced. We found a wreck. There are real aliens with starships and they are doing a secret archeological dig of an ancient alien ship wreck on Mars.”

  “Adam, you are safe here. Nobody is going to silence you. These are Heather’s sworn people who will take care of you. Trust us,” April begged. “As far as aliens, we know. I saw an alien starship just last week at Virginis 61. And it wasn’t any dead wreck we had to dig up, it was big and cutting through the same star system we were in.”

  Adam started laughing and could barely talk. “All the deceptions, they are doing it all for nothing. They think they’re protecting humanity from a shock that will shatter our beliefs, put our economy into a tail spin, and start wars. They’ve killed people to keep their secret.” He made a sweeping dismissive wave, “You just dispose of our terrible secrets as been there, done that. I should have figured that out the instant we were suddenly and impossibly back at Earth.”

  “If you are done talking now I’d really like to administer the patient a mild sedative,” a concerned medic told April quietly. Not quietly enough.

  “The patient would welcome that. Pump me full of all the happy juice you wish,” Adam invited, manic but exhausted.

  “Just a little something to calm you, not knock you out,” he insisted. “I thank you for your consent.” Indeed the medic looked taken aback
at such enthusiastic consent. As they wheeled him away April heard him start giggling again and wondered if she’d dumped too much information on him too soon. He’d been through an awful lot. She’d call tomorrow and ask after him if they didn’t call her.

  When she turned around Delores was standing there waiting for her. April had no idea when she’d joined them.

  “Heather seems to think I did the right thing, but I’m still concerned you may think I showed poor judgment. There wasn’t any time to think or talk about it with the rest of you. I probably took a hazard aboard, but it felt right to me.”

  “If I thought you were a hundred percent wrong, and Heather says you did right, this is her operation as sovereign, it was a political operation and she called the shots,” April told her. “Fact is, I’ve had some doubts about your command style. You think differently than me, and I don’t feel I can predict what you will do. That tends to make me nervous, but I think your instincts were dead on the money to grab this guy. If you poll my friends, they’ll all tell you I have a serious rescue complex myself. So in this kind of thing I’d do exactly the same as you.”

  “Same here,” Delores agreed, “you think differently than me. I’d have never said what you just did, so bluntly, except maybe to Alice in private, but thanks for your honesty.”

  Delores turned away and April could tell she was tired just from the way she walked. Now that she’d stopped rolling and allowed herself to think about it, she was pretty whipped too. If she called a cart she’d just have to wait for it, so she started walking to Heather’s.

  * * *

  “Was this entire operation just a ploy to retrieve their spy?” Director Schober asked. “Can we trust this supposed bacteriophage now? What am I to do?” he asked, burying his face in his hands.

  For the first time Safety Director Liggett really questioned his boss’ mental stability. That opinion had been creeping up on him for months. He was seeing bogeymen everywhere, and seemed right on the tipping point of cracking up. Logically, if whoever attacked them wanted them dead it would have been far easier just to use a much more lethal agent in the first place. If he was wrong and it was a poison of some sort, then at least he’d be out of his misery. He cleared his throat dramatically, but Schober didn’t look up…