by Allen Steele
Oh, hell, he thought, I’m dead…
“Relax. We don’t mean you any harm.” The voice that emerged from the Savant’s mouth grille was oddly soothing. “Did you think there was a fire here?”
“No, I…” Then Jonas remembered what he was holding. “Oh, yeah. We thought…I mean, we weren’t sure, but…”
“He wasn’t trying to put out a fire.” From behind the Savant, another voice, in the direction of the airlock hatch. Before it’d belonged to Jeffery Thomas, yet even though Jonas knew now that this identity was false, nonetheless it seemed familiar. “Take it away.”
A young woman came up beside them. As she removed the fire extinguisher from his hands, Jonas recognized her: Susan Montero, daughter of the president of the Coyote Federation. What in the world was she doing here?
“Chief? Do you copy?”
Jonas started to reply before the Savant ripped the headset from him. “Two more coming,” he said quietly. “Get ready.”
The Savant pulled away from the compartment hatch, and that was when Jonas saw the third person who’d emerged from the airlock. His hair was longer, and a beard covered much of his face, but Jonas instantly recognized him: Jonathan Parson, the second officer of the Columbus. It had been fifteen months, by the LeMarean calendar, since they’d last laid eyes on each other, yet Parson didn’t seem at all surprised to see him. A tight smile and the briefest of nods by way of greeting, then Parson moved to the one side of the hatch, with Susan taking up position on the other side.
“Chief?” Maurice’s voice echoed down the access shaft. “Are you okay?”
Jonas caught a glimpse of the stunner in Parson’s hand. He opened his mouth to yell a warning, but the Savant clamped a claw across his face. An instant later, Maurice came through the hatch. Seeing Jonas held captive by the Savant, he barely had a second to react before Parson leveled the stunner at him and fired.
Maurice spasmed as the charged wires hit his body, then he went limp. From somewhere close behind him, Jodi screamed. “Get her!” Parson snapped. He tossed the stunner to Susan, then hauled Maurice out of the way.
Susan caught the gun, then dove up the shaft. A brief commotion, then Susan’s voice came back to them. “She’s down…but I think they’ve shut the top hatch.”
“They’re onto us.” Parson reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a roll of duct tape. “Bring the girl down here,” he said as he pulled Maurice’s hands behind his back and began to lash his wrists together. “Manny, let go of Dr. Whittaker…but keep him under control.”
The Savant released Jonas from his steel grip, but continued to hold on to his shoulder. “What the hell are you—?” Jonas began.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” Parson paused to help Susan drag Jodi’s unconscious body from the shaft, then he proceeded to bind her as well. “How many more up there?”
Jonas swallowed. “Six.”
“You’re lying.” Parson glanced meaningfully at the nearest airlock. “Don’t make me do something I don’t want to.”
“Okay, okay. Two.” Jonas fought to remain calm. “Look, don’t hurt them. They’re not—”
“We won’t hurt anyone so long as you cooperate.” Parson passed Jodi over to Susan, then he took the headset from Manny. “Here’s what I want you to do,” he continued, holding out the headset to Jonas. “I want you to talk to those two guys upstairs, tell them—”
“They’re already making contact with the ground.” At least that was what he presumed Sam and Kenny were doing.
“Not my concern.” Parson thrust the headset into Jonas’s hands. “Right now, though, what I want them to do is open the hatch, let us come in. If they go along with us, I swear that no harm will come to anyone.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
“That’s a promise.” Parson’s gaze became a cold stare. “But if they don’t go along, then we’re going to have to start treating you and your crew as hostages. And believe me, you don’t want us to do that.”
Another meaningful glance at the nearest airlock hatch. Jonas’s imagination conjured unwanted visions. On one hand, he didn’t believe that they’d seriously consider spacing anyone. On the other, until now he would have considered it just as unlikely that someone would manage to hijack an EAS skiff, fly it up to the Gatehouse, and overcome three-fifths of its crew. He could refuse, and gamble with the lives of his team, or…
“Oh, hell.” He pulled on the headset, tapped it once again. “Sam, you copy?”
“Chief! What the hell’s going on down there?”
“Sam, we…” He took a deep breath. “Look, we’ve got a situation. Maurice and Jodi—”
“Are they all right? We heard Jodi scream, then Ken shut the—”
“I know, I know. They’re all right. Sam, we—”
“I’ve radioed Liberty, told ’em we’re—”
“Sam, shut up. Please.” Jonas felt his heart hammering against his chest. “Maurice and Jodi are fine. So am I, but…look, we’ve got a major problem here, and it isn’t going to get better unless you open the hatch and let us come up.”
A long pause. “I don’t know…I mean, I can’t…”
“Look, just do it.” He sighed, shut his eyes for a moment. “On my authorization. If anything goes wrong, it’s all my fault. But they’ve got…they’ve got me and Jodi and Maurice, and I don’t think they’re taking no for an answer. So…”
“Boss, I don’t—”
“Damn it, Sam!” He found himself becoming impatient. “Just pop the hatch, all right?”
A click as the comlink went dead. Everyone in the ready room froze in place, waiting to hear or see what happened next. For nearly a minute, there was nothing but silence. All right, Jonas thought, they’ve already sent a message to the ground. Now what would they do next? What would I do if…?
Of course. He tried not to smile. Sam was a smart guy, and so was Kendrick. They’d take precautions.
From somewhere far up the other end of the access shaft, there was the hollow sound of a hatch being opened. “Come up,” Sam said. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Thanks. So do I.” Jonas clicked off, then turned to Parson. “Okay, you’re in…but I’m holding you to your word.”
Parson slowly let out his breath. He looked just as relieved as his captive, and so did Susan; the Savant was unable to register any emotion. “You’ve got my word. If this works out, no one will be harmed.” Then he smiled. “Who knows? Once this is all over and done, maybe you’ll thank me for it.”
“For what?” Jonas raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Taking us hostage?”
“No. For saving the world.”
LIBERTY / 1429
Government House was a two-story, wood-frame structure, located in Liberty town square next to the grange hall. Built of Great Dakota rough bark, with a clock tower rising from the center of its faux-birch shingled roof, it resembled a town hall from nineteenth-century America. The flag of the Coyote Federation hung over the front door, but other than that the only ornamentation was the life-size statue of Captain R. E. Lee, carved from a block of granite quarried from the Eastern Divide, that stood in the center of the square.
The office of the president was on the second floor, its window overlooking the square. Wendy stood at the window, her hands clasped together before her as she gazed down at the statue. There was a framed photo of Captain Lee above her desk, yet the artisans who’d rendered his likeness had captured him with such verisimilitude that it almost seemed as if he stood outside the building, holding vigil upon the colony for which he’d given his life. More than once since she’d become president, she’d sought solace by pondering his image, carrying on silent conversations with the man who’d led the original Alabama colonists to the new world.
Yet it wasn’t the statue that caught her attention now so much as the young man who loitered beneath it. Wearing a catskin hat, the collar of his jacket pulled up against the autumn wind, he nervously strolled back and fort
h, occasionally glancing up at the clock tower before looking away again, almost as if afraid of being observed. She couldn’t see his face beneath the wide brim of his hat, but there was something about him that seemed vaguely familiar. Almost as if…
“Madam President?”
“Yes, Tomas?” She turned away from the window. Her aide stood just inside the door, a sheet of paper in hand. “They’ve heard something?”
“Not exactly, no.” Tomas hesitated. “There’s been no voice contact with the Gatehouse since the duty officer said he was opening the command center hatch. A minute ago, though, we received a text message.”
“Let me see it,” Wendy said. Tomas walked across the room toward her. “Who else knows about this?”
“Only the guys in the com office.” Tomas paused. “Should I get your husband?”
“Yes, please. But don’t let anyone else know.” When she’d heard that the Gatehouse had been taken over by forces unknown, the first thing Wendy had done was post a Proctor at the door of the communications office on the first floor. She knew that she couldn’t keep this a secret very much longer, yet the last thing she wanted were unconfirmed rumors. Sooner or later, the Council would have to be informed, but until she knew exactly who’d assumed control of the Gatehouse, the fewer people aware of the situation, the better.
Tomas handed her the printout, then hurried off to find Carlos. Unfolding the paper, Wendy read:
11.68.14 (CY) 1427 EST / 21932 / UNCODED
FRM: STARBRIDGE COYOTE / GATEHOUSE (ID UNAVAILABLE/UNCONFIRMED)
TO: CFCOM / LIBERTY (ID 128294 CONFIRMED)
CLASS: T/S
SUBJ: (NONE)
BEGIN MESSAGE
WE HAVE ASSUMED CONTROL OF STARBRIDGE COYOTE. ALL GATEHOUSE PERSONNEL HAVE BEEN SUBDUED BUT NONE HAVE BEEN HARMED. NO DANGER WILL COME TO THEM UNLESS FORCE IS THREATENED AGAINST US. WE ALSO ASSUME RESPONSIBILITY FOR THEFT OF EAS VIRGINIA DARE. NO HARM DONE TO CRAFT OR CREW.
THIS IS A POLITICAL ACTION, UNDERTAKEN BY FELLOW CITIZENS OF THE COYOTE FEDERATION ON BEHALF OF ALL. STATEMENT OF DEMANDS TO BE DELIVERED SOON BY COURIER. ANY ACTION TAKEN AGAINST OUR COURIER WILL BE CONSIDERED HOSTILE AND WILL BE MET ACCORDINGLY.
WE INTEND NO HARM TO ANYONE, BUT WE WILL TAKE APPROPRIATE MEASURES UNLESS OUR DEMANDS ARE MET BY ALL CONCERNED. RESPOND VIA SAME SATCOM FREQUENCY OR THROUGH OUR COURIER.
END MESSAGE
Wendy read the printout twice, then slowly let out her breath. She wasn’t very much surprised; in fact, this was what she’d anticipated. No one knew who was responsible, yet she’d had little doubt that it was the same persons who’d stolen the Virginia Dare. This only confirmed her suspicions.
But who’d do something like this? And for what purpose?
Footsteps in the hall, then Carlos marched into her office. “You’ve heard from the Gatehouse?” Wendy nodded, then handed him the message. Her husband quickly scanned it. “Oh, hell. I was hoping that it might be—”
“A hoax?” Wendy turned away, walked over to a side table. “You should know better. Jonas isn’t the type to pull a practical joke.” She poured herself a drink from the pitcher of ice water she kept there. “Have you reached Ana?”
“Uh-huh. She’s on her way.” Anastasia Tereshkova had been aboard the Raleigh, the passenger shuttle that landed in New Brighton yesterday; now that she had her own place in Albion, she tended to stay there between missions. “She’s good and pissed, I can tell you that.”
“I don’t blame her.” Which was why Wendy had him get in touch with her. No harm in taking advantage of Carlos’s friendship with the Drake’s commanding officer. “I take it that she’s put her ship on alert.”
“I didn’t ask, but yeah, that’s a safe bet.” Carlos looked at the letter again. “‘Statement of demands to be delivered soon by courier.’ I don’t get it. Why didn’t they just contact you personally?”
“No idea.” Wendy idly spun the six-inch globe of Coyote that rested on her desk. Handcrafted by a Colonial University electronics professor who dabbled in cartography and mounted upon a pewter miniature of a boid, it was a one-of-a-kind piece, presented to her as an inauguration gift. “We’ll find out soon enough. Where’s Tomas?”
“Don’t know. Last time I saw him, he was heading downstairs.”
“I need for him to…” She stopped, remembering that this was something that Carlos could do just as well. Perhaps even better, since he’d once been president himself; his word would carry weight. “We should alert the Council members. Convene an emergency session.”
“So soon?” Carlos frowned. “We still don’t know who we’re dealing with. Why—?”
“Because we can’t keep this secret any longer.” Wendy turned away from the desk. “It affects everyone. If we keep the representatives in the dark any longer, they might—”
“Madam President?”
She looked around, saw Tomas standing in the doorway. For the first time that day, her aide appeared agitated; indeed, it was rare that he wasn’t utterly calm. Yet now there was someone behind him: the young man she’d spotted hovering around the town square.
“I think this is the person you’re expecting,” Tomas said.
Of course. That was why he’d been keeping an eye on the clock tower. “Thank you,” she said quietly, then raised her left hand to the bridge of her nose, as if to rub an itch. “Bring him in, please.”
Her gesture was a prearranged signal: get the Proctor now. No one who’d served as president had ever felt the need to have a personal bodyguard, yet nonetheless Chris Levin had insisted that a blueshirt be assigned to Government House at all times. But Wendy need not have bothered, for as soon as the young man stepped into the room, she saw that he hadn’t gone unescorted; the Proctor on duty was close behind, his stunner already drawn from his holster.
Tomas stepped aside, allowing the young man to enter the room. As he came in, Wendy barely had time to notice her husband’s astonishment before the visitor removed his hat. Even then, she didn’t immediately recognize him.
“Oh, lord,” Carlos murmured. “Hawk?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” Embarrassment crept onto the young man’s face. “I’m sorry, but—”
“There has to be a mistake.” Carlos turned to Tomas. “This is our nephew. There’s no way he’d…I mean, he couldn’t…”
“He arrived just a minute ago, asked to see the president.” Tomas glanced at Hawk. “Said that he was acting as a courier, and that it was important that he see her at once.”
The blueshirt stepped closer to Wendy as if to protect her, but she waved him off. They had nothing to fear from their own kin…or at least so she assumed. “You have something for me?”
Without a word, Hawk reached into his jacket, pulled out an envelope. As reluctant as he was about meeting his aunt’s eyes, he was even more nervous about handing the letter to her. Wendy kept her expression neutral; this was her nephew, but just now she had to put personal considerations aside. Tearing open the envelope, she withdrew a folded sheet of paper, read the handwritten message:
Madam President, and whoever else it may concern:
By now, you know that we have assumed control of Starbridge Coyote. With luck, the Gatehouse personnel have not been harmed. Although we are holding them prisoner, they are not being treated as hostages. It is not our intent to do so, and unless any direct action is taken that would put their lives or our own in jeopardy, they will remain safe.
Upon witnessing the events of the last year, we have reached the conclusion that the existence of the starbridge poses a clear and present danger to Coyote—not only its human colonists, but also the native inhabitants. We believe that further colonization of this world, along with the unchecked exploitation of its natural resources, will inevitably result in the same environmental destruction that brought Earth to ruin.
We cannot allow this to happen. Unless they are stopped, the governments and corporations of Earth will destroy the place we’ve come to cherish as our home.
The construction of the starbridges, and the subsequent trade and immigration agreements, were done without consideration of their impact upon Coyote’s indigenous life. Since they’re unable to speak for themselves, we’ve taken it upon ourselves to act on their behalf.
Our demands are simple:
(1.) The annulment of all treaties and agreements made between the Coyote Federation and all governmental or corporate entities based on Earth, regarding immigration and trade.
(2.) All official representatives of the European Alliance and other Earth-based countries and coalitions, along with representatives of all Earth-based companies and governments, must leave Coyote within the next 81 hours, or three Coyote days.
(3.) All claims to government territory or private property held by said countries, coalitions, or private companies must be relinquished at once, to be returned to the Coyote Federation as unclaimed land.
If these demands are not fulfilled to our satisfaction, then we will have no recourse but to destroy Starbridge Coyote, and therefore bring an end to any contact between Coyote and Earth for the immediate future.
Please do not doubt that we have the ability to accomplish this, or that we will hesitate to do so. You may respond either through direct communication via satphone, or through our designated representative.
We await your prompt response.
— Jonathan Parson (Lt. Com, ESA, ret.)
Manuel Castro (WHU Council of Savants, ret.)
Susan Montero (faculty, Colonial University, New Florida)
Wendy’s hands shook as she read the last signature. “Oh, dear God,” she whispered.
“What’s going on?” Carlos stepped closer so that he could read the letter. Wendy let him take it; her legs weak, she staggered to the nearest chair, clung to it for support.
Susan. When she’d turned up missing that morning, Wendy had hoped that it was only a coincidence that her absence was concurrent with the disappearance of the skiff. Now she knew better. Her daughter—her own daughter—was involved in this. She was aboard the Gatehouse, and…
