“And a nice giant drill,” Abby added.
“And nice drill, yes. And I do believe idea that we get knowledge, and knowledge makes better life for all peoples. And makes richness for life.”
“The wow factor,” Abby said, not unkindly.
“Sure, sure. But is more?”
“Should there be?”
“I don’t know. Maybe so. But I lost something.” She seemed to fight off the sadness in her voice, and then she grinned. “I do love my big drill, though. We will find good secrets, yes?”
“Yes, I’m sure you will.”
They sat for a few moments, comfortable in each other’s contemplation.
“Anya, you do mind if I ask what happens to your parents?”
“They were murdered.” She had said it with her face buried in the plexiglass. Tanya almost didn’t catch what she said, but Abby turned toward her again. “Died in a quantum blast set off by a bunch of terrorists on Mars.”
“I’m so sorry, Anya. Did cops not see any things on CC data?”
“These people were very clever. Always clever. Got all the cameras offline before things went south. They were blowing lots of things up in those days, and Mom and Dad just got in the way, along with about a hundred other people. Wrong place, wrong time. But I’ve always been a good observer, and I saw lots that night. There was plenty of light in…in the fire, and I could see faces. Had to testify in court and everything. I had to face the man who I saw at the disaster. Guy named Demian Sable. Charismatic. Handsome. Ruthless.”
“How old you were?”
“Sixteen.”
“Sweet sixteen.”
“Not that sweet, believe me.” Abby rubbed her eyes and yawned. “See, the reason I have such a soft spot for Jeremy Belton—my ex-TBI friend?—is that he kind of took my sister and me under his wing when Mom and Dad died. He’s a good guy. Guess he had to; he was our godfather. But I always felt like he would have done it anyway.”
Abby was squirming. Tanya tried to calm her down. “Hey, I am sorry I dig.”
“That’s okay. Besides, digging is part of your job.” Abby jabbed a thumb over her shoulder toward the drill rig outside.
“I hit hot switch. You have some bags. I understand.”
“Actually, nobody understands,” she said, acid in her voice. She closed her eyes, calming herself.
“Abby, I’m glad you end up studying the sky instead of the past. Glad you are here.”
Abby thought for a moment. She weighed the historical possibilities. In one universe, she might have been on the Moon preserving early settlements or in a Sino-Iraqi desert mapping ziggurats, while in another she would be, well, here and now. And in its own way, here with the pumpkin skies and molasses seas and cinnamon-roll hills and Tanya Yampolskaya across the alcove from her, with Piers Wellington down the hall and even crazy Troy Fels still in the mix, this was good.
“Me, too, Tanya. Me, too.”
It was a lovely moment, briefly. Then, Tanya added, “I just wondering how much of past you are still studying. It might get in way at some times, you know?” Tanya left her to her little porthole.
© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2015
Michael CarrollOn the Shores of Titan's Farthest SeaScience and Fiction10.1007/978-3-319-17759-5_17
17. Cover-Up
Michael Carroll1
(1)Littleton, CO, USA
Marv placed his pad on Commodore Clark’s desk, trying to steady his hands in the process. He was shaking and sweating and generally feeling miserable. “I think it’s a brilliant plan,” Marv enthused.
Clark looked up from the screen, drilling Marv with his eyes. “Brilliant, no. But it might work, at least until we can figure out something more permanent. We can get one of our contacts on Ganymede to make the call; that guy in traffic control. We’ll try it. You can start praying it will work, for all of our sakes.”
“Yessir. I’ll call Ganymede.”
“Report back as soon as they transmit to Mayda Station. And tell them to make it look good and official. Government trimmings and all that.”
As Marv turned, the door opened. Sommers from flight control stepped in.
“Yeah?” the Commodore rumbled in his typically unwelcoming voice.
“We’ve just received a report that Montenegro’s ship completed Jovian gravity assist. Arrival now scheduled for the twenty-second. They’ll come around Saturn once and be set for the radar blackouts at Mayda and Warawoona. All other tracking stations will be on the far side, blind to their approach.”
The Commodore smiled at the perfect placement of their base, distant enough from civilization to dodge most radar with their comings and goings. “Right on time.”
“And sir? They seem to be pulling another ship with them, an entire captured transport. Quite a feat considering the energy they needed to get here.”
“Quite a feat indeed. Brash, even for our own Montenegro.” The Commodore sat back in his chair and glared at the man. “Well?”
“Thank you, sir.” The minion scampered away just as another entered.
This entrant barely fit through the hatch. The huge mahogany-tinted hulk stood evenly on his two boat-like feet, planted as firmly in the light gravity as anyone could be, standing at attention.
“Commodore Clarke, sir.” The basso voice boomed with enthusiasm.
“My files name you as Kinto. Kinto what?”
“Just Kinto, sir.”
“Boy soldier in the northern wars. Sierra Leone?”
“Uganda.”
Clarke grimaced. “Bad business, that.”
“Over now. Makes you strong.”
“I suppose.” Clarke stood and slowly circled the towering man. Time to cut him down to size. “Well, look at you, all tattooed and muscly in that skimpy shirt. Don’t you get cold here?”
“No sir.” He clenched a fist and slammed it against his sternum with a grin. “Too much heat in here. Too much spice.” He drew the last word out like a hissing snake, the word escaping through a gap in his dazzling front teeth.
Clarke was about to take command of the situation when Kinto, eyes still forward, spoke.
“I understand you have a problem, sir.”
“A problem?”
“Loose end, shall we say? At Mayda Station? Somebody knows about our little operation? I specialize in those kinds of problems.” He held up two fingers in the sign of a “V,” turned them horizontally, and jabbed the air. “If we have an asset on site, I assume we can get the identities of the witnesses?”
Clarke stiffened. “Assassination is not called for at this time, but thank you. I prefer a more subtle approach. We are not a band of thugs. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly, sir.” The tall man leaned over conspiratorially. “But keep it in mind.”
“Dismissed.”
As the door closed, Clarke added to himself, “I will.”
(*)
The call came in from Dardanus Base, Ganymede, during Piers’ shift. Because of the light-time distance of just under an hour, the message was prerecorded.
“Mayda Station, this is Dardanus. This message is coded as Security Level One. You have one minute to clear the Comm. Please station a person with appropriate clearance. When the area is clear, punch in your code to decrypt the received transmission.”
Piers had appropriate clearance, although Mayda seldom received secret messages from anyone. There was an international incident at Novum Baikonur a year or so back, but it hadn’t amounted to much. This sounded like it would be the same: a lot of excitement that would blow over in a day or two. He keyed in his decryption code, sat back, took a sip of coffee, and waited for the call. After an exceptionally long and annoying beep, the voice returned, this time with visual. The man sat behind a desk backed by a non-descript blank wall.
“Mayda Station, this is Dardanus Base with a Security Level One communication.”
A banner scrolled across the base of the screen, repeating Security Level One.
&n
bsp; “Please be advised that the North American Space Agency recently began conducting proprietary flight tests of a new transport vehicle at high northern latitudes of Titan. Some of these tests may be visible to your radar. Please note that these are to be treated as covert. They are not to be publicly discussed by any Mayda personnel, nor are their trajectories to be published in any form. The agency thanks you for your cooperation. Dardanus out.”
Piers frowned. “Just like that? Highly irregular.” He chewed on a swizzle stick. “Highly irregular.”
One thing was certain: Abby and Troy would be blabbing about the test all over the lab. He needed to put the kibosh on that as soon as possible.
Abby didn’t answer her remote. Troy picked up immediately. Maybe he didn’t have much of a life, but then, who did on Titan?
“Glad I found you,” Piers told him. “Can you get right down to Comms? And do you know where Abby is?”
“She’s right here,” Troy said, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. Piers thought they had been spending an awful lot of time together lately.
“Bring her, too. It’s important.”
Abby and Troy arrived a few minutes later, with Abby in the lead. She pulled the hatch aside. Piers opened his arms expansively, nearly touching the opposing walls of the cramped quarters. “Welcome back to my sanctuary.”
Abby glanced around at the boxes stacked on crates, at the papers draped over tablets and monitors askew atop various bits of hardware. In the corner, bottled water filled boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling, while empty bottles filled another box under the desk. “It’s beautiful.”
“Well, now,” Piers said, “a person can find beauty in the strangest places.” He pulled out a tiny origami sculpture and handed it to Abby. “Swan?”
“I would have guessed a duck,” Troy said.
“I’m better at giraffes,” Piers admitted. “And I excel at paper balls. I’ve got something to tell you two. Remember your mystery launch?”
“Yeah,” Troy said hesitantly.
“I just got some confidential information on it. All I can tell you is, it was on the level and they prefer that we not discuss it with anybody.”
That smacked of conspiracy or cover-up. Abby blustered. “What are you talking about? You can’t expect us to just go away without knowing something!”
Piers looked to Troy for support, but Troy was grinning at Abby. Abby grinned back, and then glared at Piers. “Well?”
Piers let out a breath of surrender. “Look, all I can tell you is that someone was doing secret tests there. Nothing to worry about. Okay?”
Abby’s hands were on her hips. “As in government tests? Bona fide flights by somebody who was actually supposed to be there.”
Piers nodded.
“Then why didn’t they tell you in the first place?”
“That’s what I’m trying to say. They did. Just now.”
“Don’t you find that a little weird?” she put in. “Where were they before the test? Did they forget that Titan has 20,000 people on it who just might witness this big secret test?”
“Sounds like damage control to me,” Troy said, but he lacked enthusiasm.
Piers looked as if he agreed, but he said, “That’s what they told me, and that’s all I can tell you. Now, I have incoming from Iapetus in five, so scoot.”
In the corridor outside, Abby turned to Troy urgently. “There’s something definitely not right with all that.”
“Yeah, I agree. But we’ll have help soon, from your TBI guy.”
“He’s retired from the TBI. But that’s not the point.” Abby crossed the corridor to look out a small port. The eight-day-long Titan night was well along. External lights illuminated a subtle black flurry.
“Troy, somebody made Kevin into a human ice cube, and whoever it was probably had something to do with that secret launch facility just beyond Mayda’s radar eyes. Test or no test. I just can’t wait for the cavalry.”
“Oh, yes you can. If you go off half-cocked and find something you can’t handle—”
“Like what?” she said defensively.
Troy lowered his voice a notch. “You are one of the most capable people I know. But if you barge into a top security government facility, they can lock you up until Titan’s sky clears, or if you run into some random launch crew who doesn’t want you there, nobody would be around to help.”
“Not even you?” She knew her tone would be hard for him to fight. Abby wasn’t a particularly manipulative person, but sometimes a person had to pull out all the stops.
“You know I’d be there, but it’s dangerous, Apps. Get that TBI agent. Get a pro.”
“And by that time, a crew of small chimpanzees could disassemble an entire launch facility. We can’t wait. If these people and their ‘tests’ had anything to do with Kevin’s death, I want to know.”
Troy frowned. “No, you would want revenge. Again, I say too dangerous.”
“Not revenge. We can leave that part to the authorities. But I’d sure want to find out what’s going on there so we can help the process of justice along some.”
Troy couldn’t argue that point. She could tell he wanted justice for Kevin as much as she did.
“Of course,” Abby added, “we’d have to wait for sunrise, and that’s not for another seventy hours or so.”
Troy looked toward the heavens. “You are impossible.”
Abby smiled. She had him. “Does that mean you’ll help?”
“I must be as insane as you are.”
“We need to find out what’s going on.”
“Why?” he said. She shot him a withering frown. He shrugged. “I just mean, if they didn’t have anything to do with Kevin, if they’re just playing rocket, why not let them do whatever they’re doing? As long as it’s not hurting anybody.”
“Not hurting anybody? There’s been a whole lot of hijacking going on lately right out here in the Saturn system, and even out at Uranus, and nobody seems to have a clue where it’s coming from.”
“Your point?”
“What if we do? What if we’ve stumbled onto what’s going on, right here at Kraken Mare?”
“Even if you don’t buy the military bit, pirates? On Titan?” He scoffed. “Bank robbers, maybe. Some con hiding out. But pirates? Sounds like a cheap holovid.”
“Well, I think we should go check it out,” she said defiantly.
“And by ‘checking it out’ I assume you mean go tooling across the lake for all to see, armed with our deadly scientific instruments? No thanks, sister.”
“Whatever happened to bravery and justice and—”
“Look, Apps, let’s be practical about this. We can’t take a Zodiac across the lake; they’d see us putt-putting a mile away.”
“Well, gee,” Abby said, looking up at the ceiling dramatically. “If only we had a way to sneak up on them.”
He was shaking his head before she’d finished the sentence. “Oh no. No you don’t. That submersible belongs to the Interplanetary Science Conglomerate. It’s expensive. It’s—” Panic strained his voice. “It’s delicate!”
“And it’s perfect,” she shot back. “We just skim under the surface. Go in from the southeast. Right below their little felonious noses.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions about what—about who—is up there. Besides, it’s—”
“Delicate, I know.” She wore a jack-o-lantern grin. “And it’s perfect.”
“I haven’t even taken it out yet. Who knows if the thing even works?” He looked at her, knowing the lame response would get him nowhere. “Look, I’ll make you a deal, gas girl. You help me do my engineering test cruise and the southwest coast survey and then I’ll go with you on your wild goose chase.”
Abby stuck out her hand. “Deal. What do I do?”
“You know, laser topo, sonar soundings, maybe some mass spec readings.”
“All that?”
“Yeah, but my outings are far less treacherous than yours. Besides, the fir
st is just a shakedown cruise—get all the kinks out. It’s chancy to go too far on a maiden voyage.”
“How about shakedown, then reconnaissance of the launch complex—”
“If that’s even what it is.”
“Okay, and then I’ll go help you on your southwest coast survey.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Troy agreed. “And we get some science on the shakedown cruise. Waste not.”
“But soon?”
“Far as I’m concerned, we can go at first light.”
© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2015
Michael CarrollOn the Shores of Titan's Farthest SeaScience and Fiction10.1007/978-3-319-17759-5_18
18. Breakthrough!
Michael Carroll1
(1)Littleton, CO, USA
Piers pinged Abby’s room late. “Hello, Abby. Got a message incoming from Mars, marked Belton. It’s full data, voice and image. Would you prefer it in your quarters or down here?”
“I’ll take it right here. Thanks, Piers.”
She pulled her legs up and sat yoga-style on the couch, waiting for the monitor to engage. It must have been an important message, to send all that data across all that emptiness. Then again, Jeremy was never good at plain texts. As soon as she saw the expression on Jeremy’s face, she knew the news was bad. She was glad she was alone.
“Hey kiddo. So, well, things have degraded rapidly here. Don’t know if you’ve heard the news, but I hope not, because I wanted to be the one to tell you. Demian Sable has escaped. I know this will bring up a lot of baggage, and I’m sorry.” As Tanya had said, bags.
The screen blurred. So did the rest of the room. Abby struggled to focus, but her lungs had frozen. Her head felt like someone had inserted an anvil into it while she wasn’t paying attention. She paused the feed, backed it up, and resumed it.
“…and I’m sorry. We’ve got the very best people on Mars hot on his trail, and everybody’s watching all the old haunts—”
Abby thought of the Villa. The charred remnants of her home. The graveyard. She wondered if something was wrong with the thermostat in her room. It was so cold.
On the Shores of Titan's Farthest Sea Page 10
