Confluence Point

by Mark G Brewer

  "Regan, I've been reviewing the report Commander Merryl sent back. You should probably see at least part of it."

  She turned automatically to the still picture on the wall screen. She could see Commander Merryl of the Behemoth, another familiar looking Coran she didn't know and two Russians looking comically small compared to their hosts. It was clear from the surroundings they were meeting in space, in a meeting room of the warship.

  "Merryl you know," Ham continued. "The other Coran you can see is Rymer, he was the Behemoth number two, and you may remember him from the Russian trial. The General is Lebedev and his offsider there is the shuttle pilot. I'm going to pick up the recording from mid way through the meeting."

  The visual resumed.

  "Commander," General Lebedev spoke, "the Russian Federation, as senior member of the Earth Security Council and as leaders in the Earth space program welcomes you to our planet. We have looked forward to such a visit since the knowledge of your worlds became known to us. Sir, we wonder at the purpose of your welcome visit, if any, and how we may work together to mutual advantage."

  Regan watched Merryl closely and he seemed arrogant, giving nothing away. After a long pause he glanced sideways at his First Officer, and then turned his eyes back to the General slowly. "Major General, we are here for the murderess - one Regan, and for the rebel Merali from our system. Do you know of them?"

  The General, staying admirably neutral glanced first at his assistant and then back at the Coran. "Commander, it seems fortune favors you. You have by chance or fate come to the people most able to assist you in your quest." He leant forward conspiratorially, "As I said, I wonder how this quest and our assistance might work to mutual advantage."

  Merryl's look was hard to read, but it seemed to Regan he was definitely taken aback. He hid it well.

  "Major General, it is our expectation that fate will always work with us. It would be a great disappointment for your words to prove empty - however, should you be able to deliver on the promise of assistance, who knows what benefits might accrue for those who assist?" Merryl conceded a tight smile.

  Lebedev remained calm. "Then we must work together to achieve our respective goals Commander. Might I suggest at your earliest convenience we meet with the leaders of our Federation, and develop a plan that will see your needs met and our own. You may yet have the bitch and her bastard son." The General’s excitement could hardly be contained.

  Merryl's demeanor remained cold, chilling. "This is my earliest convenience General, we will leave at once."

  [Enough Ham.] The picture faded away to nothing and Regan pursed her lips, squeezing them between her fingers, immediately troubled and thinking.

  [Where's Brian?] She subbed.

  [He's here on station by chance, looking after a small security matter for me. He's on the flight deck, why?]

  [Could you get him up here pronto please, I'd like him to escort Commander Cora back to the ship.]

  [Ahem! He might need time to . . . wash his hands, but I'm onto it.]

  "Commander Cora, thank you again for bringing your thoughts to our attention, we would like to consider them and you will be escorted back to the ship." She smiled and stood.

  He looked surprised. "I was hoping, Mistress, to perhaps see a little of your Orbital and also discuss other ways I might assist."

  "Another time perhaps, I don't mean to be rude, but we have a lot on today." She held out her hand; clearly the meeting was over.

  [Where is he Ham?]

  [At the door in four minutes.]

  Cora took Regan's hand and she used it to guide him slowly toward the garden. They walked casually to the door and waited, a little uncomfortably. To the officer's surprise it opened with Brian already standing there waiting. He looked somewhat disheveled.

  "Commander Cora, this is Brian," She made the introduction. "Thank you for coming up so quickly Brian. Commander Cora has been most helpful and we need someone to guide him back to the ship. I understand my Interceptor is on the flight deck. Please could you take him there and wait for instructions - he might like to try our coffee."

  She caught Brian's eyes and held them for a moment longer than necessary. The message; don't let him out of your sight.

  Brian nodded, message sent and received. "Yes Ma'am," and he turned to the officer, "you'll love the coffee sir." He gently guided the officer earthward toward the decks and Cora didn't protest. As the door swooshed shut behind them the image of Brian stayed in her mind.

  [Ham, what has Brian been up to?]

  It was Hilary who replied [A small matter for me Regan dear.] [A case of sexual harassment and bullying that, well, needed the playing field leveled somewhat.]

  [And was it sorted?]

  [It was . . . leveled, yes.]

  Returning to the lounge, she slumped into the chair and looked across at Marin, able to tell immediately from his dark look that he shared her thoughts.

  He spoke quickly, "We've got to kill the bitch!"

  "My thoughts exactly," she agreed. "Do you think she'll get to see that report?"

  "What's that Earth saying? Is the Pope catholic or cathartic or something?" He looked resigned, "This whole trip was at her instigation; oh yes, she'll be among the first to see it."

  Regan chewed her lip nervously. "You heard Lebedev; that comment he made about 'her bastard son'. What do you think Marin . . . Jared and Sarin, will she make the connection between the two?" Her concern was obvious.

  "She's so bitter babe she'll hear what she wants to hear. Yes, I'm certain she'll join the dots, and she will manipulate the information with the Emperor." He showed no doubts.

  "I agree Regan," Ham said, "I've just fast forwarded through the rest of the report and fortunately Jared's name or age isn't mentioned anywhere. I guess if she was a normal person she might consider you conceived after returning to Earth however . . ."

  "However, we all know she's not a normal person." She sighed.

  "Correct, she's mad as a meat axe . . . and she won't go away quietly."

  "Ok, this might bring forward our thinking." Regan stood and began to pace. "I'd like a meeting, sometime in the next few days on the STEIN Traveler, in the war room, with the whole team. Leah and Hilary of course and we should have Hayden and Aaron there. Whatever we decide to do we'll need a strategy for Hillary Station too."

  "I'll organize that Regan." Hilary offered, "I'll coordinate with everyone and let you know. Do you want to eat on the STEIN?"

  It was so easy to forget Hilary and Regan smiled despite her tension. Like Ham she was always there in the background, and such a great organizer.

  "Good point Hilary, yes let's meet at six, we'll eat at eight."

  She turned to face Marin "Now guys, Commander Cora . . . your thoughts?"

  "I think he could be all right," Marin said, "he's been helpful to us on the warship so far."

  "And he hasn't been stirring up trouble." Ham added.

  Regan sat quietly for a moment. "I have my doubts . . ." she said cautiously.

  "I do too." Marin said quickly.

  "Dispatch him?" Ham suggested.

  "Seriously?" Regan cocked her head and looked around, as if searching for Ham.

  "Well, of course I'm only joking," he replied with an unconvincing laugh. "What were your thoughts?"

  She stood and began to pace the room. "Why would he choose to tell us now, after all these months? By telling us about the drone now he ingratiates himself, but really, what use is the knowledge? The damage, if there is any, is already done. If he'd only told us earlier we could at least have mocked up regular drones and sent them off giving them false information."

  "So why tell us at all then?" Marin asked.

  "Well, he could be genuine; I don't want to dismiss that possibility, but let's assume for a moment he's a rat. He would know that on Cora they're expecting regular message drones back. It's a simple calculation, the Emperor's people would wait for say, two more months, expecting the next drone but then
it doesn't arrive. They allow for the fact that something may have happened in transit so they wait another two months, still nothing. Now they're getting antsy, so they make preparations to dispatch another warship. That would take two months journey time. Think about it; he would know we should expect to see them soon. By speaking to us now he perhaps thinks he can get into our camp and sit there as a spy on the inside."

  "I love your ability to see the dark side so clearly," Ham commented, "although it does leave me rather exposed."

  Marin sprawled over the couch. "You said that he could be genuine . . . what do your instincts tell you?"

  She hesitated before answering, massaging her chin with one hand and deep in thought. Then she turned back quickly. "He's a rat, an emperor's nephew rat."

  "So . . . I can dispatch him?" Ham asked.

  "No Ham, blimey, and for the record it worries me that you seem to take pleasure in this."

  "Only with the bad guys Regan, you know that."

  "Ham there's bad guys and really bad guys. This one is probably just guilty of being a loyal and ambitious nephew of the Emperor. I'm not gonna hang him for that. But neither is he going to hang around on my ship - where is he now?"

  "He's sitting nervously in the Interceptor." Hilary advised.

  As she blinked she allowed herself a quick cyber snapshot of the Interceptor and she could see Brian sitting with a coffee in hand, eyeballing Cora who seemed reluctant to settle in his chair. Cora's height clearly didn't intimidate Brian; Brian's width clearly intimidated the Coran.

  "Have Brian escort him straight down to the Siberian camp, Ham. He can join the bitter and twisted group down there." She turned back to Marin. "We need to talk about Leah."

  Marin looked startled. "I haven't done anything," he said defensively, "we've agreed."

  "What are you talking about?" She asked.

  "Weren't you referring to . . . you know?"

  "Marin, not everything is about sex, but since you mention it, exactly what agreement are you talking about?"

  "I thought . . . well, I meant that we won't be doing anything without you, she was quite definite."

  "She was quite definite, sooo . . . you tried."

  "Nooo," He took on the look of a rabbit caught in the headlights. "Well, I thought about it yes, that's true, but you'd be pleased with me, I decided I wasn't going to. But she beat me to it anyway, she told me no way."

  "I guess I should be pleased about that . . ." She looked at him sideways, a teasing suspicious look. "You know, you really should think more before you speak, you don't put your case particularly well."

  He embraced her then held her at arm's length. "Listen, I joke about it, but I want you to know, there will be no more Stephanie's. I won't go with any of your friends."

  "Without me . . ." she smiled and pulled him close.

  "Not unless you’re there," he agreed and laughed.

  She pushed him backward, playful but firm.

  "I've got to talk with the President shortly, you can sit in if you like and come to think of it that might be helpful, I do think he likes to see you there. I suggest afterwards we head up to the gym, meet Leah there for a workout and then go back to the STEIN. I do need to talk to her; what do you say?"

  He smiled at her agenda a little too eagerly, and then sprawled back on the couch.

  Hilary put the call through at two pm Hillary Station time, six pm in Washington, and as the screen lit up with Cliff Johnston at his desk in the Oval Office, he was working as usual.

  "Mr. President - how are you?" The question was more than a courtesy; she was shocked at how tired he looked.

  He looked up and smiled warmly, standing to move around the desk and sit in a more comfortable position. "Regan, Marin . . . I'm . . . good. And how are you?"

  Marin replied for them. "We're good up here sir, away from all the troubles you need to contend with, you have our sympathies."

  "Cliff," Regan leant forward getting quickly down to business, "I understand you wanted to talk with me."

  "Yes - and it will be no surprise to you I'm sure. Regan, I'm told development of the shuttles is going well based on the Coran drive and our scientists are excited by the whole effectors technology thing. I don't understand it of course, it's all beyond me, but then so is the working of a microwave." He smiled warmly. "The thing is we're now at that point we were always going to reach at some stage. We and our partners need the power source; it's as simple as that. I presume when you set us on this path you were aware our nuclear sources wouldn't cut the mustard."

  "That's true sir, and we do have the power sources for you but they're not unlimited. We can provide insertion ready tubes that will fulfill all your needs for now; we have enough for twenty shuttles at this stage. I understand you have two shuttles ready to trial and we will make matter available for those two and three more. The Chinese will also get five as, like you, they've backed us as partners on the Step. Our plan is for eight to go to the new Space Coalition, and they're all allies of yours anyway. It includes Japan, Australia, France, Britain, Germany, South Korea, Taiwan, and one representative each from the African and South American Coalitions."

  "You don't mention New Zealand in there I notice?"

  She raised her eyebrows pointedly as it didn't really need to be said; with STEIN Corp and Regan both Kiwi to the bone, New Zealand had access to the most advanced space fleet and technology by default. Regan didn't bother responding to the question instead addressing the shuttle opportunity.

  "We hope with that shared fleet of eighteen shuttles, all able to navigate the solar system, some serious work can be done to develop your presence in space. If you work together, it's possible. If everyone tries to go it alone well, you'll be left behind."

  "Left behind?" He let the question hang.

  "Well, we're not sitting still sir." She stayed neutral.

  "I see . . . it's like that - you know we can't compete with you."

  "We've talked about this sir. We're not even trying to compete with anyone, we're here to help. But we're not going to wait around while nations squabble in the space pit. Mr. President, with respect, I know you're not responsible for the squabbling or for the general problems of getting agreement on progress. But I'm just too impatient to sit around waiting for decisions by international committee. I would think you of all leaders would understand that." She stood and began to pace, knowing Hilary would track her on screen.

  "Sir, eighteen craft of this capability offers an unprecedented chance to leap into space and we've got to work together. Why not gather all the partners and agree to share resources, expertise, crews, I'd be interested to see what came out of that? In my view going down that path would be the best option and would enable you to make huge leaps. On the other hand, you could decide to use the shuttles to just work with us as partners on some projects; that will get you there even faster."

  "Hmm, I wish it were that easy. We would prefer to work directly with you but I'm sure if we did it on our own others would see that as a threat to them. I'd like to genuinely try and get this cooperation going but if that fails I'd appreciate working on ways we, that is STEIN and the US, might work together more." He paused, not waiting for a reply. "You mentioned eighteen of the power sources. What of the other two?" He tensed as he asked the question, clearly anticipating the response.

  "I'm holding two for the Russians sir, but you can be sure it won't be for long. Kevin is concerned that it might be safer to be working with them rather than have them become more desperate outside the camp. Having said that our problem is their leadership, after we told them Sokolov wasn't acceptable to us as President they tried to pull a shifty by having Sokolov move to Prime Minister and Popov to President. We're not stupid; the Russians won't participate as long as Sokolov or his supporters are in charge and that's an issue Kevin is sorting out now. Personally, I don't see a happy resolution but I want to give them the chance."

  President Johnston nodded sadly. "Regan, I'll talk
with the other partners and you're right; it is time we worked together. In the meantime, please do give my thoughts about working directly with you some consideration. I'm a controlled action junkie myself, patience doesn't come easily to me, I have to work at it." He smiled.

  * * *

  "Where did lunch time go, did we have one?"

  As Regan and Marin walked up the pipe to the gym they munched on energy bars and sucked in water to hydrate. It wasn't a particularly satisfying replacement for lunch but they knew Hilary would go overboard with dinner so perhaps something light was a good idea. Anyway, they both knew the gym would be competitive and neither could afford to work out with a full stomach. Leah would be locked and loaded and she didn't like to lose. They entered the gym to see her already warming up by the mirrors with a small group of young men gathered around pretending to do the same. Same as gyms everywhere . . .

  When she saw them reflected in the mirror Leah broke into a smile and bounded over to them. The small group followed her run from behind and then reluctantly began dispersing; no one wanted to mess with 'the big guy'. Regan smiled, Leah seemed blissfully unaware, as if she hadn't even noticed their presence; probably hadn't, she thought, and laughed happily.

  A quick warm up and they were into it; one hour in the gym and a lap of the pipe . . . easy.

  * * *

  Meanwhile Aaron Stiles worked out on the STEIN using his brain, not his brawn, constantly thinking, calculating, and learning. A whippet of a man, he hadn't seen the inside of a gym in years yet somehow seemed all muscle and sinew regardless.

  Ham, patience personified when it suited him, continued his attempts to break through.