New Title 1

by Jordan, Steven Lyle

  “I need your help,” Carter told her in no uncertain terms. “There are some perishables on board the Lincoln that need to be disposed of, before they present a hazard.”

  “Hazard?” Reya did not take long to think about it. “Let’s take a look. Rest of you, we’ll talk after I’m through!” She took Carter’s arm, and steered him through the crowd and in the direction of his passenger liner. A few people followed after them, but they moved at a fast-enough clip to leave most of them behind. When they reached the Lincoln, Carter let Reya on first, then turned and closed the main hatch to prevent anyone following them.

  When Carter turned around from dogging the hatch, Reya was waiting, hands on hips. She glanced at the door, clearly happy to get a break from the cacophony outside. “So, where’s the hazard, Lem?”

  “Up here,” Carter replied, and led her to the stairwell that led to the upper deck of the liner. Reya followed him up the stairs and onto the landing, where passengers were usually greeted by staff and directed to their suites and subsections. The entrances to the upper galleys and service areas were adjacent to the landing, and Reya started to move in that direction. But Carter waved a hand and said, “No, it’s not over there. It’s this way.”

  “What?” Reya asked, perplexed. “Is this some passenger’s stuff?”

  “Right around… here,” Carter was saying, examining the doors to the suites as he passed them, rubbing his chin as he went.

  Reya gave him a look. “Did you forget where it was?”

  At that moment, Carter threw out his hands as if he had just found what he’d been looking for. “Ah! Right in here. Come on.” Carter opened the door to the suite and stepped inside without hesitation. After a beat, Reya followed him.

  The suite was one of the first class private affairs favored by the more well-to-do of travelers. It was big enough to accommodate a large, articulated sofa in its center, complete with adjustable tables and drink holders. The forward and side walls were dominated by display screens, and the rear of the suite had two small alcoves, one for luggage, and one for a fridge and refreshment kiosk. A small door in the corner led to a tiny washroom. Reya took a second to admire the luxurious appointments, but then she frowned in confusion. “So, where’s the hazard?”

  “Right here,” Carter said, stepping to the rear alcove and opening the fridge. He extracted something from the fridge, his body blocking Reya’s view, before he closed the fridge and stood up. When he turned around to face her, he held a bottle in one hand and two flutes in the other.

  Reya stared at the bottle and glasses stupidly. “Uh… Lem, what?”

  “Yeah,” Carter nodded soberly, “I found these at about the same time I noticed a certain Executive Officer that looked like she was about to blow up, or pass out, I really wasn’t sure which.”

  “Lem—”

  “This wine, in particular,” Carter held up the bottle, and pushed the glasses at Reya, practically dropping them in front of her. As she reflexively reached out and took the glasses, Carter put his now free hand on the neck of the bottle. “This is a rare ‘ought-four from Manitoba,” he explained as Reya stared at him, incredulously. “I happen to know that this has a very short shelf-life. In fact, once the bottle is opened—” he paused just long enough to pop the seal on the bottle, causing Reya to flinch “—it pretty much needs to be finished off, that night, or it’ll spoil.”

  He tilted the bottle over one of the flutes in Reya’s hand, and the amber liquid poured slowly down and bubbled back up merrily. When he had filled one glass, he paused, looked at Reya and said: “Know what I mean?”

  “Lem,” Reya started, pausing when Carter began to fill the other glass. “Lem, I appreciate this, but I—”

  “You are dead on your feet,” Carter interrupted her, reaching out and taking the second glass from her. “Unlike some of these cretins around here, I know what’s been going on. I’ve also known you for a long time, and I’m sure I know how busy you’ve all been. As soon as I saw you down here, I could tell that you’ve been denying yourself a break… you’re wont to do that.” He held up his glass in salute.

  After a moment, Reya smiled, and raised her glass. “I am wont to do that.”

  Carter nodded to her acquiescence, and tapped his glass to hers. They provided a satisfying tring. “So, it’s time for you to join me, take a load off, and get yourself back together.”

  Carter placed the bottle on a table, then reached for Reya’s hand and guided her onto the sofa. Reya sighed into the luxurious fabric, and allowed her muscles to relax, as Carter sat beside her. Then he reached for a control surface on one of the tables, and tapped a glowing icon. Slowly, the lights in the suite dimmed, and Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony began to play in the background. At the same time, the wall screens activated, and peaceful natural scenes began to run, different on each screen.

  Reya took all of this in with her mouth hanging open in surprise. Then she turned to Carter, and a new light was in her eyes. “Why, Lemuel Carter! I do believe you have more in mind here than simple rest and relaxation.”

  In response, Carter reached for a folded bolt of cloth that sat on the head of the sofa. With one hand, he shook it out, and the cloth unfolded to reveal two white robes. He glanced down at Reya and smiled. “I’m a ship’s Captain. It’s my job to be prepared for every eventuality. More wine?”

  Reya drained her glass, and held it out. “Please.”

  ~

  Walter Gordon looked about nervously as he entered the flight bay. He was nervous because he had the distinct feeling that if he stayed in the bay too long, someone would force him onto a ship and send him back to Earth… which, despite what everyone was claiming, he did not believe was now fifty million miles away. He hadn’t gotten to where he was by being an idiot, and he knew something about physics. What everyone was telling him about being over Mars was just plain impossible.

  But he felt he had to come down, because he’d gotten word from one of his freighter Captains, Roy Grand, that the Makalu was being forcibly appropriated by Verdant’s CnC to be some kind of shuttle between Verdant and Earth. And despite Grand’s assurance that Reya Luis promised to make it worth their while, she had also mentioned to Grand their intention to retrofit some type of equipment “to allow them to return to Earth.” Since he didn’t believe they weren’t over Earth, he didn’t trust the idea of retrofitting anything to his ship. For all he knew, they were planning to turn his freighter into some kind of flying bomb, fly it into Denver and drop it on the High House, and somehow blame him for starting World War Four. It was bad enough Julian Lenz had all but promised he’d be going back to Earth, whether he liked it or not… he had no intention of returning as a pariah.

  So he stalked into the bay, looking furtively this way and that, until he reached the Makalu’s access tubes and started inside through the crew hatch. Just as he started aboard, Roy Grand stepped into the tube to exit. Gordon saw Grand first, and barked, “Roy! What-all’s going on down here?”

  Grand looked up at the sound of Gordon’s voice. “Oh, hey, Mr. Gordon. Uh, the Verdant engineers just got here. They’re in the engine bay—”

  “They are?” Gordon growled as he shouldered past Grand and half-trotted towards the aft end of the freighter. “What are they putting into my ship?”

  “Well, nothing yet,” Grand said, reversing direction and following Gordon aft.

  When they passed through the last cargo bulkhead, they came across over a dozen men and women, taking measurements, pointing at things, talking amongst each other. There was a room immediately adjacent to the main engine control room, and they seemed to be concentrated at the doorway to that room. A huge pile of equipment was gathered in a corner by the doorway, the only recognizable item being a brand new workstation standing on a dolly. Gordon stalked into the bay and shouted, “Who’s in charge here?”

  “That would be me.” Lin Sen Chiu stepped aside of a group of technicians to see who had yelled out. “Who are you?�
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  “I’m Walter Gordon, and I own this freighter!” Gordon snapped. “Who do you guys think you are, coming down here and taking over my ship?”

  “You’re talking to the wrong guy,” Chiu said simply. “We’re just doing our jobs. Complaints go to CnC.”

  “Bullshit!” Gordon spat, physically shoving one engineer aside to glower down at the much shorter Chiu. “I’m not going to let you morons turn my ship into a flying weapon!”

  “Weapon?” Grand repeated. “Boss—”

  “Weapon?” Chiu echoed. “Mr. Gordon, we’re not arming your ship! We’re putting equipment on board that will allow you to make the trip home.”

  “This ship can fly home just fine on its own!”

  “Not from here, it can’t,” Chiu said calmly. “Or haven’t you been told where we are?”

  “Over Mars?” Gordon sneered. “Bullshit! I don’t know what you guys are pulling, but I’m not like the idiots you’re used to dealing with!”

  “Clearly,” Chiu said wryly. Before Gordon could reply, Chiu continued: “Look, Mr. Gordon, the deal is made, and I’m authorized to call security if you get in our way. So, if you need to talk to someone, go talk to CnC. Now, if you’ll excuse us—”

  “You’re out of your minds!” Gordon bellowed, causing Chiu to nod at one of his technicians, who brought a com to her mouth. “I will not let you steal my ship, turn it into a flying bomb and drop it—”

  “Boss, boss, calm down!” Roy Grand was suddenly alongside him, putting an arm across Gordon’s shoulders, drawing him aside. “They’re not gonna blow up anything!” In a lower voice, he added, “What are you so mad about? They’re paying four times scale, both ways!”

  “They’re setting us up!” Gordon snapped at him. “What’s wrong with you, Roy, you gone as stupid as the rest of these idiots? We are not over Mars! They’re soaking us! You don’t need special equipment to get home!”

  A rhythmic tromping of boots brought everyone’s attention to the forward bulkhead, where two Verdant security men trotted inside. They noted Gordon and Grand, and one of them came to a stop by the two men, as the other stopped in front of Chiu.

  “Officer,” Chiu said calmly, “Mr. Gordon, there, needs to be escorted to CnC to speak to a ranking officer about this project.”

  “Yes, sir,” the officer nodded smartly. He then joined his partner to confront Gordon. “If you’ll accompany us, sir?”

  “Dammit,” Gordon growled, showing no sign of being willing to leave. He glanced past the guards at Chui.

  Chiu returned his look with a shrug. “The sooner you talk to CnC, the sooner you’ll have this situation worked out, Mr. Gordon,” he stated. He started to turn away, then threw back, “Thank you, officers.”

  The officers took the hint. “Mister Gordon?” One of them raised an arm in the direction of the forward bulkhead hatch. Gordon glowered at them, and past them at Chiu, but finally, he realized he would get nowhere this way. Slowly he turned to go, the officers flanking him as he went.

  In the meantime, Chiu had resumed speaking to the technicians. “So, in order to get the power converter in, we’re going to need to knock out a piece of the bulkhead between here and the fuel cell bank and—”

  “Knock out bulkheads!” Gordon roared, and spun about to go after Chiu. The officers quickly grabbed him by each arm, yanking him almost bodily off his feet. “You don’t cut into my bulkheads… dammit, Roy, don’t let them cut up my ship! This is bullshit! I’ll sue! I’ll—” The officers dragged him out of the bay, kicking and screaming all the way, and when he was finally far enough away that the sound in the bay had resumed a conversational level, Chiu and the technicians got back to work.

  ~

  “You’re already having second thoughts, aren’t you?”

  Shay turned her head in the gloom of the bedroom, and looked at Gaston as he stared at the ceiling. He seemed calm, his arms back and cradling his head on the pillow. A very uncharacteristic pose for him. “Why would you say that?” she asked.

  “Because the one thing you aren’t, is an actress,” Gaston replied calmly. Shay started to comment, but he amended, “Well, let’s say, not the best actress.” Shay made a wry face that was probably lost to him in the dark of the room, but she was sure she got her message across. “The word’s out,” Gaston continued. “It doesn’t look as though I’ll be able to stay on Verdant when this is over… not even as a private citizen. If I have to go back to Earth, I’ll be thrown out of office soon enough. I have a villa in New Hampshire, and I’ve made some good money, but… that’s all I’ll have when I get back. I won’t be getting more.”

  In fact, he was severely understating his position. Between his villa, sitting on a few hundred acres of prime New Hampshire land, and at least four hundred million in the bank (according to best estimates), Lambert would be more than comfortable.

  He finally turned his head towards her, and although she could not see his eyes, she could feel them upon her. “Not even you, eh?”

  “I haven’t said I won’t go back to Earth with you,” Shay replied. “It’s just… not the outcome I expected, that’s all.”

  “Nor I,” Gaston admitted. He did not speak for a time, then he sighed. “Well, I’ll be meeting Lenz in the morning. Maybe I can still pull something positive out of this. But I suppose you should give some thought to what you plan to do.”

  Shay’s eyes widened in the gloom, remembering Kris Fawkes’ words to her. “I will.”

  28: Coordination

  14Aug2229

  Julian instantly reflected upon how similar the morning seemed to that day, just over a week ago, when President Lambert had walked into this self-same conference room and sat down to discuss the situation caused by the Yellowstone Caldera. He stood up out of his seat, as did Reya, Aaron, Kris Fawkes, Dr. Silver, and Lin Sen Chiu, as Lambert, Enu Thompson and a staffer none of them recognized entered the conference room, two American guards flanking them and stopping to remain outside the door with the two Verdant security officers. As one of the security men closed the door behind them, the group exchanged formal greetings as they did on that other day, as well.

  The staffer was introduced as Anton Lavary, part of the American diplomatic corps and President Lambert’s choice as the new American Liaison with the Verdant CnC. Lavary shook everyone’s hand and smiled warmly, especially to Reya Luis, who could not help but notice how tall and handsome the man was. In fact, the two of them were recognized by everyone in the room to make a handsome-looking pair… an implication not lost on Julian as he considered their last choice of liaison. He stole a glance at Kris, but she gave no indication that she’d noticed. For her part, the smiles shared between her and the new liaison were blatantly mechanical, but they gave no other outward indication of contention between them.

  There was one other difference he noted: Aaron seemed to reflect a subtle unhappiness with Kris, mostly avoiding speaking to her, and looking distinctly unhappy whenever he looked at her, or when she was in proximity to him. Aaron spared Julian any such looks, however… he probably didn’t know about their night together, then. Julian had to assume that the information Kris had originally brought him, regarding Aaron and Silver’s collaboration on the secretive quantum translation project, had come at the cost of her brief relationship with Aaron. Julian felt for the other man, after losing Kris, then being blindsided by his senior scientist; he must have been feeling very fragile, and at the moment, it showed.

  It had never really been a secret that Kris had been expressly chosen for the liaison post with the intent of having her use her “feminine wiles” to penetrate CnC for the President… but it had certainly been a surprise to Julian when she had confessed her newfound opposition to the President’s intent to take over the satellite. Maybe she was simply the first to suspect she was on the wrong side… but she couldn’t have known how things were going to turn out, and so she must have expected she was joining the losing side. That left a change of heart based on
something else… and she had been waiting for him last night.

  But whatever the reason, he was glad, even thankful, for her coming to him, and not because of the intrigues between Verdant and the U.S.: Last night hadn’t happened because he did or did not trust her; but because he had needed her… needed someone… and she had somehow known exactly what to do, to save him from becoming completely lost in a pit of despair that he might never have crawled out of. And now, he felt as if at least one ponderous weight had been lifted from his soul, by her intervention. And it seemed to make it easier for him to focus on the task at hand.

  Finally, everyone sat down, Julian and Lambert at opposite ends of the table… already an unfortunate and adversarial beginning to the conversation, but at this stage, considered to be the most effective way to get things started.

  “Thank you for coming, Mister President,” Julian started as they settled in. “Let me begin by making it clear why we are here. This meeting is not about discussing terms of conflict between us. Rather, we want to discuss the details of returning Americans, as well as other citizens of Earth currently on Verdant, to their homes, and recovering our citizens presently on Earth.”

  “Are Americans to be considered political refugees, then? To be shipped off when it’s inconvenient to have us around?” Lambert asked.

  “Not at all,” Julian stated. “We are simply giving them a free trip home during our present emergency. We don’t want to see them inconvenienced by our situation any more than they have to be.”

  “So, sending Americans home is doing them a favor,” Thompson stated wryly.

  Julian shrugged. “I suppose, given the current situation at home, that we’re not doing them any favors. However, we are acting in accordance with international law. According to our U.N. charter, we are bound to provide outgoing transportation to all visitors and visiting officials when conditions aboard the satellite threaten their safety.”

  “With all due respect,” Thompson said, “things don’t look so dangerous around here.”