by Martin Tays
“Indeed.” The governor turned to look at the new window. “And you are?”
“O’Hannihy, sir. Miles O’Hannihy.”
Valentine nodded. “Thank you for wearing sensible underwear, Mister O’Hannihy.”
“I’m a sensible man, sir.”
Valentine leaned back and regarded the operative. “Sensibly, then, Mister O’Hannihy, what are our options?”
“The truth, sir?”
The Governor nodded. “That would be a refreshing change, yes.”
Miles nodded in return. “Then truthfully, sir… well, truthfully we don’t have a lot of options. The ship’s only a couple of klicks away, but they’re piling on delta v. This shuttle doesn’t have the fuel to catch them and then come back again. And if we could, I don’t think we’d be able to accomplish much.”
“Isn’t there a way to shoot them down?”
The operative’s eyes widened. “Shoot? You mean like ‘bang, bang, you’re dead’ shoot?”
Valentine’s eyes narrowed. “I mean exactly like that, Mister O’Hannihy.”
“Huh. Well, sir, first off what would you shoot them with? We’re an internal security group. Shooting down spaceships was never in our charter. I’d have noticed.
“Secondly.” He continued implacably. “Even if we could rig something up, you wouldn’t find anyone who’d be willing to pull the trigger.” Miles glanced over at Grace. “Well, anyone competent, anyway. I sure as hell wouldn’t do it.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“No sir.” Miles looked out of the vid window levelly. “I wouldn’t.”
“I see.”
Constantine Grace cleared his throat. “Um, sir?”
Valentine looked over at Grace darkly. “If you’re expecting to save your job, this had better be something extraordinary, Mister Grace.”
“Well, sir, we’ve already established in the public eye that Dunn is a loose cannon. We can play off that. Announce that he went insane and stole the ship, intent on some pointlessly stupid, suicidal mission. A self-glorification stunt. All of his cohorts here on Haven are in custody, so it’s not as if the tru… as if any other version of the truth could get out.”
In his separate vid window, Miles made a face but said nothing.
Valentine paused, considering. Finally, he turned to the head of the security detail. “Mister O’Hannihy. Would you be willing to provide corroborative support for this?”
Miles paused, himself. He was evidently uncomfortable with the idea. “I… sir, if you believe it necessary to do this, the best I could do would be to not provide contradictory evidence.”
“There are the remains of a good man about you, Mister O’Hannihy. It’s going to get you in trouble one of these days.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well.” Valentine rubbed his hands together briskly. “Gra… Mister Grace? Return at once. We will set up a press conference and see if we can get this particular cat back into its bag. Then we can discuss your future career options.”
Grace swallowed visibly. Just as Valentine was about to shut down the windows, though, Miles spoke up. “Sir? Mister Valentine?” A grin was playing across his lips.
“What is it?” The Governor asked sharply.
“About that bag, sir. I think it has more holes in it than you’re aware of.”
The governor’s face darkened. “What do you mean?”
Miles gestured to his displays, off screen. “Have you been keeping an eye on the public broadcasts, sir?”
Valentine looked quickly back over to the main window. In it, that brainless news reader Suave was speaking earnestly. “… in on this from the very beginning. I spoke extensively with Moses about his plan, and he kept no secrets from me. I know precisely why it is that he and his hand picked crew…” Valentine snorted. “Felt compelled to do such an extreme and extraordinary act as stealing a spaceship.
“And it all began…” Suave held up a datatab dramatically. “With a recording.”
“Oh, bugger.” Valentine’s head dropped back to rest on the back of his chair as he closed his eyes. He then opened one to squint back up at the other two auxiliary windows. “Oh, and Mister Grace?”
“Sir?” Grace replied nervously.
“You are so fired.”
☼
It was extraordinary. Everyone was out on the streets, staring up into the twilight sky. Staring at the brilliant, sparkling spot of light as it emerged from behind the moon and headed off into the unknown. Holding their breaths.
Praying.
Rafe stood among them, hands in his pockets, as he stared up toward the bright new star. He blinked away the afterimage and looked over to his erstwhile captor. “You know, it’s funny. A few micrograms of hydrogen, a few micrograms of anti-hydrogen, they come together, they go away. Buttloads of energy ensues. Repeat as necessary. No big deal.” He looked back up again. “I never considered it to be beautiful, before.”
“Eye of the beholder, I guess. Damn.” Sam looked away, rubbing her eyes. “That thing’s bright.”
“Yeah. We’ll have a few retinal burnouts in the clinics come morning.” He blinked again and looked around. “Huh. What’s everyone watching?”
She followed his glance. Everyone on the street seemed to have their pcomps tuned to the same broadcast. Sam brought up hers and quickly stripped the broadcast data from a nearby pedestrian. A vid window popped up in front of them.
“Yikes.” Said Rafe. “Suave.”
“Shush.” Sam gestured. Rafe shut up and watched the reporter.
“… at that point I requested that they play this mysterious signal for me. Moses, of course, acquiesced. The following is the signal that Ms. Brillerman recorded on that fateful Puerto Rican night. It is exactly as it was recorded by her, and has not been altered in any way.”
Rafe looked over at the former security operative, eyes wide. “Oh, my. It seems Moses has friends in quite unexpected places.”
Sam ignored him. She’d heard the signal before, yes, but that didn’t make it any less extraordinary.
Rafe turned to look at the crowd in the gathering dusk. The same look was on each of their faces as they listened to the series of sounds. It was a look of wonder, of astonishment.
Of joy.
Nearby a man dropped to the sidewalk as his legs gave way, tears streaming unnoticed down his face. The short, striking blond girl standing by his side just stared up at the sky. She finally blinked and, in an awed tone of voice, said “That’s… that’s just coolio.”
Some people were hugging, for mutual joy or just to hold each other up under the shock. Most of them, though, were just staring at their vidscreens, astonishment on their faces.
The recording ended.
After a long beat, Suave spoke again. He looked ecstatic, in a grave sort of way, thrust into a ratings heaven he’d only dared dream about before. “And when I heard this…” He intoned, sonorously, “I knew — knew ― that we were no longer alone.”
He said something else, afterward, but no one heard him. A man on the other side of the street started it. He pumped his fist in the air and just screamed. Others nearby immediately joined in, and within a few seconds the street was loudly echoing with cheers.
After a few moments, though, words began to take shape, in place of the joyously inarticulate cheering. One word, actually, repeated over and over again.
Rafe finally picked it out. He looked over to Sam, a stupid grin on his face. She grinned back and nodded, and they turned back toward that bright spot in the heavens and joined the chant.
Over and over again. One simple word.
“Go! Go! Go! Go! GO!”
☼
“Coming up on MECO in five… four… three… two… one…” The perv
asive rumbling stopped suddenly, leaving Mattie screaming the last: “MAIN ENGINE… sorry… main engine cut off.”
“Thanks, Mattie. Excellent job. Excellent job, everyone, in fact.” He twirled his finger in the air. “A round of kudo’s, on the house.” Moses looked about at the goofily smiling faces on the bridge.
“I suppose that that is supposed to include me?” Said the doctor, sulkily. Well, okay, so almost all of the faces were goofily smiling.
Moses looked over. “Well, yes, actually, Doctor… say, just what the hell is your name, anyway?”
“Smith. Clive Renlin Smith, as if you cared.”
Moses blinked. “You’re joking.”
“I never joke. Never got the knack of it, actually.”
“I’m not surprised.” A grin began working its way across Moses’ face. “Okay, now, let me see if I’ve got this straight. You’re a doctor named Smith. Who’s an unexpected passenger. On a hijacked spaceship. Heading out into the unknown?”
The small, colorless man hesitated, then nodded.
“And you complain a lot?”
“I’ll have you know I do not appreciate that comment.”
Moses was now grinning ear to ear. “Do me a favor?”
Smith looked uncertain. “What’s that?”
“Say ‘we’re doomed’ in a high, quavery voice.”
Smith looked over toward Ami, who just shrugged. She turned back toward Moses, a confused look on her face.
Moses shook his head. “Not important. I’m just glad we don’t have a robot on board.” He turned away, still grinning. “Shipwide. Okay, people, the quick hard part is over. Now the really, really slow hard part begins. It’s going to be a long day. Let’s get to work. Shipwide off. Bridge to maneuvering. Leo?”
Another vid window, as Leo replied. “Yeah, boss? Sorry. Yes, Captain?” To the side, Ami grinned.
“Huh.” Moses cocked his head, considering. “You know, a fellow could get used to that.” He shook his head and continued. “Okay, Leo… how’d engineering hold out?”
“And Cath?” Sandar asked from the navigation console.
Moses glanced over and nodded at the anxious girl. “Ah, yes, and did Cath survive? You know, being Cath and stuff?”
“She’s fine. She slipped and fell under the acceleration just a couple of seconds before MECO, but only a few feet. She’ll be walking funny a while is all.”
“Well, she’s always walked funny, but good. I’m glad. Officially, though, you tell her I said ‘ha!’”
“Tell her yourself, you schmuck.” Cath drifted into the window just behind Leo’s shoulder. “Jesus, Moses, I can’t believe you. Talking behind a woman’s back right there in front of her.” Leo stared off into the distance. His lips moving as he vainly tried to parse the sentence.
“Give it up, Leo.” Moses said. “She’s broken better minds than yours. Cath?” He looked back to the engineer. “Good job. Damn good job. Thanks.”
“Yeah? Well, I couldn’t have done it without wonder boy, here.” Cath punched Leo in the arm.
“Ow.” Leo responded as he rubbed the spot.
“Shut up, you wussy.” She turned back toward Moses. “You know, he’s a fair to middling bright kid.”
Moses nodded. “That he is. And he’d better be. He’s now officially the Assistant Engineer and your butt boy.”
“Awww. And I didn’t get you anything.”
“The look on his face right now is payment enough. Bridge out.”
He pushed across the bridge, toward navigation. When he got there he put a hand on Sandar’s shoulder and spoke quietly. “Told you she’d be okay. Are you okay?”
Sandar looked up at him and nodded, relief evident in her eyes. He patted her shoulder once more, then continued in a louder tone of voice. “Okay, then, now we just coast. We’ve got, what, eighteen hours?”
Sandar looked down at her instruments. “Closer to twenty, I think.”
“Twenty hours, then, until we get far enough out to test our new toy.”
“Can’t we just turn on the drive thingy now?” Moses looked over at Fiona, who’d asked that as she drifted in through the hatch.
“Good question.” Moses nodded. “We certainly could turn it on now. We certainly could rip a manned moon into about a billion pieces from the tidal forces and possibly compress ourselves and the entire ship into a spot small enough to dot an ‘i’ with. Should we?”
Ami raised her hand. “I vote no.”
Moses raised his, too. “And the no’s have it.”
Fiona made a face. “You could have just said ‘no’.”
“I thought I just did. Where’s Doug?”
“In the galley, meany. He decided that everyone would be coming down from the endorphin rush and would need some food to make up for it.”
“No shit? Smart lad. Remind me to kiss that boy.”
“Only if I can take pictures.”
Moses cocked an eyebrow at Fiona. “Ouch. Have I started a fantasy in that perverted little brain of yours?”
“Now that you mention it…” Fiona shut her eyes. After a moment she purred “Ooooo… I’m in the middle.”
Moses instantly turned beet red. Ami saw the expression on his face and doubled over in midair, laughing. He stared over at her, started to protest, then just gave up and sighed.
It was going to be a long trip.
“How did it start? It started with rich people. It always starts with rich people.
I mean, we’re not talking about a fifteen minute outpatient visit. We’re talking ― at the beginning, at least ― of a very major, very intrusive, very time consuming and above all very expensive procedure.
So the first longevity clinics catered to the ultra rich. The old ultra rich. The scared old ultra rich.
Then Emma Warschazki had a brilliant idea. An idea that consisted of three simple words.
Volume, volume, volume.”
Hieronymus Atkins, from “Eternity on a Budget”
“Our big mistake was laughing at her. You look through history, you’d be amazed by the number of big companies and people brought low by a hyperactive person with an idiotic marketing scheme.
I mean, here we were ― an exclusive, unmarked-door facility in Beverly Hills selling hand crafted youth to movie stars and business moguls at a ten thousand percent markup. And some schmuck opens a clinic in WeHo offering the same services at ten percent over cost. With a payment plan, no less.
We thought it was the funniest damn thing we’d ever seen.
Then she opened another branch in the Valley. And then another. And then one in Compton, for Christ’s sake. They started cropping up everywhere.
Forty years! I spent forty years training to do what I did best ― take one old person and make them young again. And I was run out of business by a high school drop out with an assembly line idea and one of the most insidiously awful jingles you’ve ever had meme it evil way into your brain.”
Dr. J.J. Harriman, from Theo Hearn’s “Other Voices”
“Got the Grim Reaper just a knockin’ at your door? Send the guy a packin’, come on down to Death No More!”
Sales jingle for Death No More, Inc.
Chapter 18
“Age is a bad traveling companion.”
English Proverb
The vid window was full of stars.
And in the center, small even at high resolution, was the silver and gray starship. In the corner of the window, the ubiquitous Haven2Night! logo spun.
Rafe turned to his keeper, a dour SD operative named Keel, in exasperation. “Isn’t anybody else covering this?”
The squat little man shrugged. “Everyone is, but no one’s watching anything else. They’re all watching Jin.” He
looked about. “Anyone else want me to change the channel?”
Around the common room of the holding facility, Rafe’s fellow arrested crewmen shook their heads. One of the engineering techs spoke for them all. “Nah. Let’s watch the pea wit. He’s fun.”
Rafe made a face. “Don’t you think he’s getting… oh, I don’t know, a little desperate for things to do to keep our interest?”
Madeline looked over. “They probably all are. And you gotta admit that the sock puppet recreation of the boarding was a nice touch.”
“Okay, I can’t argue with that.” The scene abruptly changed and Suave’s face filled the screen, looking a bit the worse for wear after his near twenty hours of continuous coverage.
“Ladies and gentlemen! I’ve been informed that we are receiving a transmission from the stolen starship. We are… yes, we are getting a signal from the Endeavour.” He looked out at the audience. “Remember that this is a time lagged transmission. These words were actually spoken over twelve minutes ago.”
“A week’s pay says he explains the speed of light.”
Rafe glanced over at Mad. “No takers.”
“You see…” Continued the reporter, “The speed of light is our limiting factor. Since they are now over twelve light minutes away, it takes that amount of time for their transmission to reach us.”
“Hah!”
“Shut up, Mad.” Rafe leaned back and propped his feet on the scuffed coffee table.
“Hey!” The jailer turned to Rafe. “You’re not supposed to put your feet up on the furniture.”
“Eat me.” Rafe replied affably. After a moment Keel just shrugged and turned back to the program.
The face of Moses appeared. Around Rafe in the dingy little room there was cheering and clapping, mixed in with a few catcalls.
“Quiet, people! The hero speaks!” Madeline shouted over the din.
