“Sounds like fun,” Alex said. “Maybe you can give me a tour soon.”
Count on it. You ready to fly?
“Roger that,” Alex said.
The simulator came to life. They had run weapons exercises in atmosphere at the beginning of the week, and they were learning to fly in hard vacuum with zero-gravity. Their training in the zero-G bubble was helping, but like anything new it was taking some time to gain proficiency.
First up is a ship-to-ship transfer.
“Where’s the other ship?” Alex asked. “I can’t see it.”
It’s on the other side of the planet. You’ll have to lead your team around in orbit, then make a safe landing.
Alex switched to his team channel on the simulator’s com-link. “You guys ready?”
“Always,” Ash said.
“Roger that,” Sly replied.
“Yes, team leader,” Newt said.
“All right, let’s launch,” Alex said. “Thrusts once we’re clear of the ship.”
He didn’t have to tell them how long to let their thrusters propel them through space. Each operator was paired with a controller. Alex had Nyx, and she gave him exact instructions. She was part navigator, part co-pilot. Her main job was to feed him the information he needed so that he could focus completely on what was happening around him. In the case of a battle, Alex would need to be able to react to enemies and couldn’t be distracted by instrument readings or radar feeds. In an emergency, Nyx could even fly the battle suit, but her perspective was different from his. Alex could feel the battle suit around him like a thick second skin. When gravity was a factor, he could feel the way the Titan was flying. Of course, the simulator couldn’t replicate that very well, but in an actual mission, his piloting skills would be invaluable.
They did a measured thrust for half a minute, building up enough speed to circle around to the far side of the planet in just under two hours. It would be a long, boring flight, unless the simulation had some surprises in store. Their counter-burn to slow down would take much longer since their pace would be increased by the planet’s gravity. Alex didn’t worry about the details. The controllers would see about all that. His focus was on keeping his team together and avoiding trouble until the other ship came into view. When that happened, they could slow down, and Alex would land the simulated battle suit on the designated section of the target ship. He could imagine the need to board another ship in a space battle, but he didn’t really relish the thought of it. Fighting on board a spaceship would be difficult, even deadly. The armor on the Titan battle suit would give them some measure of safety, but the close confines would make maneuvering challenging. Still, if the need arose, he would be ready. The Titan operators were considered the elite division in the CDF, and he was willing to do whatever it took to make sure he was the best he could be.
Chapter 9
Loman stared at the holograph of Ciara Prince. He could tell by her posture and the look on her face that she wasn’t happy. He didn’t blame her; it was never pleasant to tell the boss bad news.
“So we know nothing,” Loman said.
“Whoever was behind the attack seems to have dropped out of the picture,” Ciara said. “They might be laying low, or they might be out of the game. There’s been no talk and certainly no activity that we can find. My entire team has come up empty.”
Loman wanted to criticize her team, but he knew they were the best investigators in the company. He couldn’t afford to believe that she was right, but on the other hand, he couldn’t really argue the point, either. If there was no news, he couldn’t fault her for that.
“Well, don’t give up,” he said. “It’s possible the attacks were an effort to keep us from bidding on the Carthage mineral rights.”
“That would mean that whoever was behind the attacks on our colony ship and the Perrin system would have to have inside information.”
“No surprise there,” Loman said. “We had it, just not as soon as someone else.”
“Well, that gives me another avenue to explore. Maybe if I find a leak in the Free Trade Association, it will lead to whoever was behind the attacks on the company.”
Loman nodded. He was impressed at her drive and ingenuity. The door swished open, and he frowned. His new partner, as ordered by the board of directors, had formed the habit of entering his office without notice.
“Check it out and get back to me,” Loman said. “I’ve got to run.”
She nodded, and the hologram faded away.
“Who was that?” Zan Fordham asked.
“One of our security administrators giving a report,” Loman said.
“Concerning?”
“An investigation. How’s the research going?”
“I’m done,” Zan said irritably. “And don’t think that I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“What I’m doing?” Loman asked, feigning ignorance.
“You’re trying to brush me off and bury me with busy work.”
“That’s not true,” Loman said. “If we’re going to co-lead the security division, we both have to be up to speed on what’s going on.”
“Somehow I doubt you know all that information,” Zan challenged.
“Oh, I might surprise you.”
“Really? Then you won’t mind a little test.”
“Zan, I appreciate your enthusiasm for the task you’ve been given, but we really don’t have time to play games.”
“Actually, I insist,” Zan said with a wicked grin. “I do have a report to make to Chairwoman Faulk, after all.”
Loman grimaced, but he’d been expecting such a move. Few people in the company knew that Loman had an INC chip and could connect with his AI computer. He didn’t do it often—the Implanted Neural Controller was meant to help operators pilot battle suits—but there were other uses to the advanced technology. He nodded to Zan while mentally syncing with his computer.
“You know the number of employees on the gas refinery in orbit around Atlantis Eleven?”
Loman cleared his throat. He could see the look of delight in the manager’s beady eyes. He mentally asked the question to his computer.
Four hundred and ninety-eight, with two companies of CDF operators on board in case of emergency.
“Four hundred and ninety-eight,” Loman said. “Including two companies of CDF operators. Now, can we please get to work?”
The look on Zan’s face was undiluted fury. His cheeks flushed, and a vein began to bulge in his forehead.
“How could you possibly know that?” Zan demanded.
“Because it’s my job to know. I keep tabs on all security personnel. I was reviewing the risk on Atlantis Eleven not long ago.”
“Fine, then what about the garrison on Solomon in the Zionist system?”
There are twenty-two operators stationed on the planet Solomon. All specialize in AT Defender battle suits.
“Twenty-two,” Loman said. “All running AT Defenders. This is getting old.”
“You’re tricking me,” Zan said.
“You’re paranoid.”
“Am I? It’s not my job on the line.”
“Who said anything about someone’s job being in jeopardy? Do you know something I don’t?”
Fordham looked down, and Loman wasn’t sure if the manager was angrier at Loman or himself. Of course, everyone in senior management knew they were fighting for their jobs. Chairwoman Faulk wanted her cronies running each division, giving her complete control of the largest corporation in the galaxy. Loman had a sneaking suspicion that once she got what she wanted, her puppets leading the company would run it straight into the ground. She would become the most powerful woman in the galaxy, but only if she could successfully push him out—and he was determined not to let that happen.
“If you’re through testing me, let’s talk about what you’ll be doing,” Loman said.
“My assignment is to prepare to run the entire division. We’re co-directors now.”
Loman ha
d to give himself a moment to calm down. He wanted to scream at Fordham that he was nothing but a weasel, selling his integrity to Lynn Faulk in exchange for position and money. But direct confrontation would not get Loman the results he desired, no matter how satisfying putting Zan in his place might feel in the moment.
“All right, well, how do you see that working out?” Loman asked.
“I need a real office, for one thing,” Zan snapped. “At least as big as this one.”
“Take it,” Loman said, trying not to sound bitter. “I’ll move my things out today.”
Zan started to say something. He even opened his mouth, ready to fight for his right to an office, but Loman’s concession took him by surprise. He closed his mouth and stared at Loman for a few seconds.
“Really?”
“Absolutely,” Loman said. “I’m a believer in getting things done. There is a lot of work in this division. I’m happy for the help.”
“Don’t think you can bury me in more paperwork.”
“I won’t. The most pressing concern is finding Colonel Bixby’s replacement. Why don’t we dive into that tomorrow morning, as soon as you’re settled?”
“Where are you moving to?” Zan asked.
“The office you were using, I suppose,” Loman said. “I don’t need all this space. Why don’t you go pick out a few items to make this office your own. We have an account at Bailey’s. I’ll have Raz help me move my personal things out.”
“Okay,” Zan said, still a little confused by Loman suddenly playing nice.
“Take the afternoon,” Loman said. “We’ll meet in the morning and get started.”
“First thing?”
“As soon as you’re here,” Loman replied.
“I’ll be here right at nine. I’m a very punctual person.”
Loman started to laugh but held himself in check. Being VP of security for a mega-corporation was more than a full-time job. The work never ended. Loman was usually in the office by 0700, and it wasn’t unusual to stay until everyone else had gone home. Even when he was away from the office, he was always on call. Loman took his job seriously, and he expected those who worked closest with him to do the same, but he would gladly make an exception for Zan.
“That sounds perfect,” Loman said.
The manager left with a smile on his round face and a spring in his step. Loman sent a mental command to his computer to begin compartmentalizing and locking off certain files and folders of information. He pressed a button on his phone to activate the intercom.
“Raz, call building maintenance. I need my office cleared out ASAP.”
“Yes, Mr. Haley. Should I send the furniture someplace specific?”
“Storage for now,” Loman said. “And set up a computer node in the room Loman’s been working on. I’ll be using that space for the foreseeable future.”
“Yes, sir.”
Loman looked out the window. He would miss the view, but the sacrifice was worth it. He just needed more time to deal with the growing list of enemies who were looking to take him down. Giving Zan Fordham a corner office with a view would satisfy his ambition and make him feel superior to Loman. The greedy little manager might be Chairwoman Faulk’s puppet, but that didn’t mean Loman couldn’t pull his strings.
Chapter 10
It took the Republic eight days to reach the Carthage system. Nyx had been training each day with Alex and his team of Titan operators. They were becoming a dependable, cohesive unit, which gave Nyx a certain amount of pride. She spent some time with the other three controllers working with Ash, Newt, and Sly, but unlike their counterparts, the controllers hadn’t really formed a bond.
Nyx guessed it was most likely a result of the type of person recruited to be a controller. She had picked up on the fact that most of her peers were very much like her: introverted, analytical, rule-following computer enthusiasts. Socializing just wasn’t in their nature, and of course it didn’t help that most of their training had taken place alone in front of a computer console. They didn’t persevere through daunting challenges together or work in groups. They didn’t even have to share quarters. Controllers spent most of their time on CDF carrier ships or orbital space stations. They were assigned to small, narrow rooms in their own wing of the ship, not far from the entertainment section, but isolated enough that they felt safe.
Nyx had grown up on a scientific space station and had gone through a phase in which she’d felt the need to explore. But her first trip to a planet had made her quickly realize that she felt too exposed in large, open spaces. Since then, she worked to keep her world small and controllable. She didn’t mind visiting other places for short periods of time, but it was much better to keep things contained. When she’d been sent to the Republic, an officer had assigned her a room and a computer console in the control center. She’d quickly made those two spaces her own and hadn’t yet taken much time to explore the common areas of the ship. There was no rush and no real desire to mingle, despite the fact that she sometimes felt lonely.
Her operator ran simulations twice a day, and outside of those simulations she was free to do as she pleased. It made Nyx happy to spend most of her time at her computer console, even when she wasn’t running sims with Alex. So she was at her station when the ship passed through the space tunnel and appeared in the Carthage system. She was tapped into the ship’s command network, remotely viewing the reports and orders being given by the senior officers. She saw a video feed of the system. It looked normal to her. Carthage Prime was the focus and still thousands of kilometers away from the ship’s position. It was a bright white oval, almost egg-shaped, with one end pointing toward the system’s yellow star. That end was green and blue, but the rest of the planet was clearly swathed in a thick layer of ice and snow.
A bulky freighter was orbiting the planet, and Nyx could see that supplies were being ferried down. She couldn’t hear the communications back and forth, but from the commands given, she guessed that the freighter had supplies for a colony or at least an exploratory team that would descend to the southern hemisphere of the planet. She had no idea why they were there or what they hoped to accomplish. Her orders were simple: to assist Alex in whatever capacity was needed for the security of the company’s employees and assets in the Carthage system. Nyx didn’t mind not knowing more. She was curious enough, but she also relished the simplicity of her responsibilities.
The order she was waiting for came through less than an hour after reaching the system. Squads were being given the order to prepare to make their way down to the surface of the planet. Her console didn’t have specifics—only that Bravo, Charlie, Delta and Echo Companies were to prepare for departure immediately upon reaching orbit. A timer began counting down on her screen. There were just under twenty-three hours before they would reach orbit. She felt a thrill race through her body. She didn’t want to fight, but she wanted to be challenged. The last thing on her mind was the possibility that Alex or someone else might get hurt. Instead, she was focused solely on running a serious operation, one that would test her wits with other professionals. As odd as it might sound, she was excited by the prospect.
Her Flex PIL, which she kept wrapped around her forearm, vibrated. It was a reminder to eat before the morning training session began, and she got up slowly from her console, wondering if there would be any more trainings now that they were on the cusp of an actual mission.
She had no problems with training; it was an essential function to maintain mission readiness, but she couldn’t deny the feeling that it was somehow beneath her. Nyx West was ready for more than just a computer-generated scenario. She was about to get up when a message popped up on her screen. It was her specific orders, direct from her commanding officer Lieutenant Sanders.
Attention Corporal West, N
Mission specifics require you to continue simulator training with Titan operators on board the CDF Republic. Privates Evans, Timmons, Lasiter, and Newton are ordered to remain on board until f
urther notice.
Nyx felt an overwhelming sense of dread. If Alex wasn’t being called up, did that mean something was wrong? And how would he take the news? She didn’t know, and she certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell him. She turned from her console and saw Lieutenant Alyssa Sanders approaching. By the time Nyx’s CO reached her, the controllers for the other Titan operators had gathered close. Sanders held up her hand to silence the group.
“It’s not my decision,” Sanders said.
“Is something wrong?” Nyx asked. “Is that why we’re being held back?”
“No, there’s nothing wrong,” Sanders said. “I’m giving you the orders I was given. Nothing changes. You keep training.”
“The operators won’t be happy,” one of the other controllers pointed out.
“If so, they can take it to their CO. For now, we have our orders and we carry them out regardless of how we feel personally. Is that understood?”
The controller division was often more like a corporate position than a military one. The entire division exuded calm efficiency. No orders were shouted and no weapons were used—unless computers were classified as weapons—and orders didn’t seem heavy or absolute.
“Yes, Lieutenant,” the four controllers said quietly.
“Very good. Do your best to keep your operators calm. There’s bound to be plenty of ruckus as the squads are shipped out. Let’s not get caught up in the furor.”
She walked away, and Nyx felt as if her own hopes and dreams had been dashed. Obviously there would be other missions, but after so much training and anticipation, to be held back seemed cruel.
Nyx glanced at her Flex PIL and saw that she had twenty minutes until she needed to be back at her console and ready for Alex to arrive. The thought of his disappointment was almost too much to bear, but she reminded herself that it wasn’t her fault. She walked quickly to the nearest vending machine. She could have gone to the chow hall, but it would be busy, and the food would need to be eaten there. Instead, she got herself a package of salty cheese crisps, sweet shortbread cookies, and a bottle of water. It would be enough to see her through the four-hour training session, and she could get a proper meal at lunchtime.
Carthage Prime Page 5
