Not With A Whimper: Preservers

by D. A. Boulter

  Johannes shrugged. “I don’t know what else to suggest.”

  “That’s not your job,” Bill replied. “You concentrate on getting those people up, we’ll deal with the rest.”

  He nodded. “Good advice. Right now, however, I need a few hours of sleep, too.”

  Tannon gave him a wry smile. “Most of us haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time. Get used to it.”

  CHAPTER 11

  FTL-1

  Wednesday 07 July

  Johannes woke with the alarm, still tired. He washed his face, and then walked to the operations room, only to find Jill Paxton already there, working on the computer.

  He looked at her. The Yrdens and Paxtons didn’t get on particularly well. “Thought you had duty on Maid Marion, Ms Paxton.” He had seen her on the trip to Yamato.

  She raised her head, and looked at him. “Johannes Yrden.” She didn’t look pleased to see him, either – didn’t even look like she expected him. “My Family dropped me here to co-ordinate our evacuation from Earth. Bill Tannon took me off that, and sent me here.” She took her time. “If I’d known it was for you Yrdens, I wouldn’t have come. Apparently you have a similar problem.”

  Johannes nodded, tired of the old rivalry. “My problem is bigger. What has Bill told you?”

  “Not much. Just that we have to get about three score people off Earth, and put them on our ships or stations, or take them to the colony worlds of their choice.”

  “Closer to two hundred,” Johannes corrected her. “Fifty-six primaries plus families.”

  She gave him another glare. “I think I’ll ask for reassignment.”

  Sighing, he nodded again, and took the seat next to her. He glanced at her screen, which showed the itineraries of Family ships. So many coming so soon? Word must have gone out immediately upon Preston’s warning. He asked.

  “No, before that,” Jill countered. “His warning just made it more urgent. Now, what do you have that tops me getting my people out?” He heard the anger in her voice.

  “We’re to become ‘Keepers of the Knowledge’.”

  “What knowledge?”

  Johannes smiled at her quizzical expression. “All of it. If Preston has given us the straight goods, the Colonies won’t be able to count on Earth for anything. No equipment, no spare parts, no readers, no nothing.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “That would send most of them back to the Middle Ages.”

  “Earlier than that. They don’t even have the ability to make ink.”

  “Ink? Who uses that?”

  “They’ll have to once their readers and computers begin to fail, and their pens run out of marker.”

  “Dear God!” She sat there quiet for a moment as she considered it. Then he saw Paxton’s face go pale. “It wouldn’t take that long,” she said. “And then they won’t be able to supply us.”

  “And then we’d be right there with them, planet-bound.”

  “‘Keepers of the Knowledge’, you said. And these 60 people?”

  “Fifty-seven. Plus families where applicable. We already have one. Her name is Helen White, and she’ll arrive here about 0900hrs. The other fifty-six? They belong to Preston. He foresaw this, and they’ve spent the last several years collecting all the old processes, the old patents, everything. They have blueprints, documents, aural accounts, vids detailing processes, formulae, and more. Our deal with him: get his people out, and we get the data. We share – not sell – the data with those worlds who need it, bring them back to an industrial level where they can support their stations,” he paused for a moment, “and us.”

  He gave her a long look. “Still want reassignment?”

  Jill Paxton stared at him, stared right through him, it seemed. Finally she shook her head. “Where are they?”

  “All over the world. Europe, Asia, Africa, Australia, North and South America. Some might be on small islands in the Pacific – I don’t know. Helen has the list.”

  Paxton rose and walked over to the sideboard. She poured herself a cup of coffee, and took an appreciative sip. “Not an impossible job. We have ships coming in, and we can arrange shuttles. We’ll have to get other Families involved, though. Paxton’s shuttles aren’t exactly welcome in Japan, for example.”

  “The Nakamuras can take care of that.”

  “Right. So, thirty or forty shuttle trips, including these people in with our regular schedules.” She walked back to her screen and scrolled down. “We should have them all up in less than a week.”

  Johannes laughed, and her eyes snapped to his face.

  “What? Did I say something funny?”

  He pursed his lips.

  “Actually, no,” he said, turning as Helen White entered. He introduced her before continuing. “However, there’s a slight complication: no one must know what we’re doing. We can’t allow anyone to even guess at it. If the Families start openly picking up researchers from all over the globe, the relevant authorities will figure it out.”

  White agreed. “As it is, the Earth governments restrict what their colonies can import – information included. If they begin to suspect that we plan on giving them the ability to become independent, they would react swiftly ... and violently.”

  Johannes nodded his agreement. “And not only towards those we wish to take up, but towards the Families and, especially against Haida Gwaii. She has machine shops, the ability to make tools and machinery.”

  Jill looked from one to the other, looking a little sick. “And she’s not ready to move yet.”

  “And she’s not ready to move yet,” Johannes reiterated.

  “Then we can’t let anyone know.”

  Unsure of what they were talking about, Helen took a seat and brought out her reader. “I have the list here. People and locations.”

  The three of them studied it for some minutes.

  “Not possible,” Jill finally said. “Some of them live under highly repressive regimes. None of the Families have landing privileges there. Besides, we have our own to get up and out.”

  Helen glared at her. “All of them, or you get nothing.”

  * * *

  Johannes rubbed at his temples. He felt a headache coming on. Both Jill Paxton and Helen White remained adamant that their missions took priority, and that the other’s could be set aside. Neither seemed willing to compromise in the least. He now wished that he had taken Matt’s offer and had exchanged places with him. Anything had to be better than this.

  While they continued arguing – nothing he could say would stop it – he scanned Helen’s list, and looked from it to the scheduling that Jill had on her screen.

  “Hold up, both of you,” he said. He had to repeat himself before they went silent. “According to this,” he pointed at the schedule, “the FTL has a shuttle picking up a cargo from Mumbai.”

  Both women looked at it.

  Jill nodded. “Yes. Returning to FTL-1 tomorrow morning, their time.” She then clenched a fist. “But we need it up on schedule; it’ll go back down as soon as we unload it, bound for ... Perth, Australia.”

  Johannes held up his hand before she could continue. “And you,” he turned to Helen, “said that you have your people on an hour’s notice.”

  She raised a palm. “As soon as you agreed to my terms, I sent out the word. Naturally, not all of them will be able to move immediately – some will require permits – but they should all have either packed or, where that’s not feasible, have organized their belongings for a quick packing, and be ready to go shortly after they receive the word.” She pursed her lips. “I can’t guarantee one hour.”

  “But this man, Sarindar – I can’t pronounce that last name – lives within easy distance of Mumbai’s field, right?” At Helen’s nod, he continued. “And he has only his wife to bring with him, right?” Another nod.

  Johannes turned to Jill. “And we either have two empty seats, or we can set them up?”

  Jill let out her breath in a huff, but Johannes could see th
at she had surrendered to the inevitable. This time.

  She sighed, and said, “And India has relatively lax control over its citizens, yes. Send him word. If he doesn’t make it by lift-off time, we will leave him behind.”

  Johannes smiled, and indicated the comm system to Helen. “If you please?”

  While Helen talked to Sarindar, Johannes turned to Jill. “So, that’s two down.”

  “And one hundred ninety-eight to go,” Jill retorted.

  Johannes wanted to throttle her. “But it’s two down without either of you compromising anything. Surely the pair of you can find other places where this occurs.” He glanced at the chrono. “My son is attending Detector Class here. He’s has an hour off, and I’d like to see him. You two go over the next week’s schedule, and match it where you can with the researchers. If there’s only one to come up from any particular spot, and all regular seats in the shuttle are booked, perhaps that person can ride up on the flight deck.” He stood. “Use your imaginations. Fight later.”

  He left them, still glowering at each other, and hoped that they would find some way to work with each other before he got back.

  * * *

  “Hello, Owen,” Johannes called out, seeing his son exiting the Detector School. He smiled broadly at Owen, but received a less than warm smile in response.

  Now what?

  “Come, let’s go get something to eat,” he said as if he sensed nothing amiss.

  “I have to study, Dad.”

  And that sounded cool, as if his son had some sort of grudge against him. “And you have to eat to keep up your strength in order to study. We’ll eat in the cafeteria.”

  Owen agreed, but reluctantly, Johannes thought. He said nothing until after they had filled their plates.

  “Something’s bothering you, Owen. Want to tell me about it?”

  “Not really.”

  He’d rarely found Owen so reticent – not with him. Something must have happened to cause this.

  “It’s not your mother, is it? She’s really very busy – hardly has time to sleep.” As he’d found out every time he’d tried to call her.

  “She hasn’t called me once,” Owen admitted, stabbing at a piece of potato. “But that’s just Mom.”

  “And I’ve been on Earth. Just got up yesterday. I had endured a long, tiring day, and I needed to get some sleep. I wouldn’t have been good company.”

  “I know.”

  Johannes blinked. “You know what? That I wouldn’t have been good company?”

  “That you got up yesterday. I saw you,” he paused, bit his lip and then continued, “with a woman.”

  Johannes closed his eyes, remembering. He’d had his arm around Helen, supporting her. Owen must have mistaken the intent. A bright lad, he would know that his parents had hit a bit of a tough patch. The separate vacations would have spelled that out only too clearly.

  “Who is she?”

  “Her name is Helen White. I’ll be working with her for a while.”

  “Working?” Owen’s eyebrows went up.

  At nineteen, one could no longer call him a child. Although shy, he knew more than he said, saw more than others thought he saw.

  “Working,” Johannes confirmed.

  “At what? She’s not Family.”

  “She’s researching the Yrden Family and FTL for a paper. She’s an academic, a historian.” Johannes hated lying to his son, but after he’d agreed with Bill Tannon that secrecy held a paramount position, he couldn’t afford to tell the truth.

  “So, you’ll be spending a lot of time with her.” It came out as more an accusation than a statement. “Does Mom know?”

  Trying to keep from clenching his jaw, Johannes responded as calmly as he could. “I don’t know. I haven’t had any better luck getting her attention than you have. Certainly, it’s no secret. Feel free to mention it if you hear from her.”

  Owen stared down at his plate, played with the food a little, and then began eating.

  “If it makes you feel any better, Son, my other duties have me working with Jill Paxton.”

  Owen choked on his food, coughed a couple of times, and then his face opened with a small grin. Johannes thanked the gods for small mercies.

  “Then we have something in common.”

  “Oh?”

  “Veronica Paxton teaches the Detector Course.”

  Johannes winced visibly. “Not making your course any easier on you?”

  Owen snorted. “I think she hates me. And I have Ben Paxton in my class.”

  “Ah,” Johannes said. “So that makes a good situation even better. I don’t know Ben, but I’ve heard that Veronica Paxton sets high standards for her students. Perhaps you mistake that for dislike.”

  Owen shook his head. “No, I’m pretty sure I don’t.” He looked at his chrono. “I have to go, Dad. I really have to study before next class if I don’t want to get caught out.”

  Johannes sighed. This hadn’t gone well. “Okay, Son. Go. I’ll introduce you to Helen White soon; no doubt she’ll have some questions for you, as well, as regards the Family.”

  Owen merely looked at him, and then strode off.

  “Damn it all to hell!” He had hoped to disabuse Owen of his notion, but bringing Helen’s name up again had merely done more damage.

  Speaking of damage, he had better get back to see what damage Helen and Jill had done each other during his short absence.

  * * *

  Friday 09 July

  “Thank you for bringing me here, Johannes,” Helen said from the other side of the table they’d claimed at Darcy’s. If I had to eat in the same room as that woman again, I think I’d end up throwing food at her.

  “Ah, a good old-fashioned food-fight. Might be fun.” He reconsidered. “Perhaps not. I think they would make the participants clean it up, in which case we would still have to work with Jill.”

  Helen laughed, and reached over placing her hand on his. “Thank you for that, too. I can’t remember when I last laughed.”

  She withdrew her hand, but he still felt the warmth of it.

  “Think nothing of it. The Paxtons and Yrdens don’t get along particularly well. And that’s something for your paper.”

  She blinked. “What paper?”

  “You’re a visiting academic, writing about the Yrden Family and FTL,” Johannes explained. “At least that’s your cover. We should have gone over it earlier, but things kind of got away from us – that and the Jill Paxton situation. Your little war with her hasn’t helped.”

  Helen looked away. “I’m sorry.”

  Johannes laughed “Don’t be sorry; she hates me, too – and it has nothing to do with you.” He gave that a moment’s thought. “Or me, really.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Huh?”

  “I appreciate what you’re doing for me – for us. I also appreciate you trying to make things easier. But anyone with eyes can see that you have your own problems – apart from those I brought you.”

  She had seen that? He looked up to her face, seeing sympathetic eyes looking back at him. He’d had no one he could talk to. Jaswinder wouldn’t answer his calls – always too busy, too tired, asleep, something. Matt slapped him down any time he complained about what the overwork did to both Jaswinder and their marriage, and he couldn’t talk about it to his children.

  “My wife and I can’t connect. Due to the situation, my Family Head has us working apart – of necessity, I have to admit. However, it’s making a bad thing worse. Much worse. My children are well aware of our problems, too, and I think they are siding with my wife.”

  “Yes, you told me your son had a course on station. You went to see him the other day.”

  Johannes laughed bitterly. “He saw us when we came onto the station. I had my arm around you, remember? He thinks I’m having an affair with you. And I can’t tell him the real reason you’re here, can’t bring him into the operations room to show him what we’re doing, can’t do a damn thing to ch
ange his mind.”

  She watched him with those kind, gentle eyes.

  He shrugged, looking over the dining room. “I’m losing everything I care about, and I can’t do anything about it.”

  Helen put her hand on his again, and he did not draw his away. “You poor man. I know what you’re going through.”

  Johannes looked to her face. “Do you?” He doubted it.

  “When Professor Preston first enlisted me, he did so as an assistant in his quest to gather The Knowledge. At the time, I hadn’t realized the real reason behind it. I thought he had it in mind to publish some sort of paper, a book, get a grant.”

  She took a sip of juice, then put her glass back down on precisely the spot she had lifted it from. “However, as I worked closer with him, after he began to trust me, he confided in me, detailing what the various governments had planned, how they echoed the past.

  “I came to believe in it. And when he had fully convinced me, and convinced me that time worked against us, not for us, I worked longer and longer hours. My social life went; my partner went.” She laughed as bitterly as he had earlier. “They went partially because of my work, partially because I knew I’d have to leave them behind. I didn’t want to live a lie. Every day I’d see them, and know that eventually – if Preston could swing it – I’d leave them on Earth to die while I and the other researchers escaped to safety.”

  “You could bring your partner with you,” Johannes suggested.

  She laughed again. “He’s long gone. What could I tell him? Just what you can tell your son about me – lies. And he wouldn’t leave his family behind, not knowing. And I couldn’t offer all of them – dozens – a place. And,” she shrugged even as he had shrugged, “even if I had offered him a place, and he had come up, he would never forgive me for leaving those others to die.”

  Their meals arrived, but Johannes had hardly the appetite to appreciate the food.