by Drew Wagar
'Search the ship!'
Quickly the men fanned out through the cargo bay, up the gravity well and into the rest of the ship. It didn’t take them long.
'All clear,' one said into a comlink.
A man, dressed in a dark green cloak trimmed in elegant gold finery emerged from behind the marines. He was tall and held a certain air of command. His hair was rich and dark, longer than fashion dictated but not unkempt. Around his neck was a large platinum medallion. His eyes were like two burning jewels of obsidian, set in a severe dominating face with regular features and a long aquiline nose. Two aides followed him in and stood flanking him, once each side. Jim stared in amazement. Rebecca caught his expression.
'Who the prak is that?'
Jim didn’t take his eyes from the man, 'It’s the President. The Galcop President.'
Rebecca turned to look back at the man. 'Wow. The big cheese himself.'
The President walked across to them and examined them closely.
'Jim Feynman and Rebecca Tyley, I presume.' His voice was measured, clipped and precise.
They both nodded. The President gestured to the guard, 'I think we can dispense with the binders.'
The guard nodded and released Jim and Rebecca from their restraints.
The Pre paused impressively. 'On behalf of the Galactic Co-operative, our thanks.'
Rebecca looked at Jim and then back at the President.
'You’re thanking us?' she burst out.
'You are our saviours,' the President replied. 'It is appropriate, I think.'
'Saviours?' Rebecca echoed, completely bewildered.
'Saviours,' the President repeated magnanimously. 'I am gratified to see you are still alive after that frightful battle.'
'But we weren’t alone in taking down that Thargoid mothership…' Rebecca began. 'So why…'
'I am not talking about that. The mothership was indeed a most serious threat, but I am talking about something much more important. You have saved Galcop itself.'
Next to her Jim made to say something, and then stopped himself.
'We haven’t saved Galcop!' Rebecca burst out. 'Why would we? You’re a bunch of murderous fiends! Your assassin! Jim’s colleague! You tried to kill us! The Vipers…'
'Our Military Chief of Staff’s idea throughout,' the President continued gently. 'As was the Achenar plot, ‘Operation Manhattan’, I believe it was called. Most unfortunate. Operating outside of overall control. A loose cannon. I have only just become aware of it myself. He has been, how shall we say, encouraged to retire early.'
'But…'
'Jim understands, do you not, Jim?'
Jim looked the President in the eye. 'I think so.'
Rebecca looked at them both with exasperation. 'Well, I don’t, so will someone explain it to the rest of us lowlife pond-suckers?'
'The bomb didn’t work,' Jim volunteered.
'Fortunate for you it did not,' the President intoned. 'Up until that particular piece of information was forthcoming, we were attempting to destroy both you and it as threats to Galcop’s best interests.'
'So?' Rebecca hissed at him.
The President answered her, eyes still locked with Jim’s. 'Consider what would have happened if the bomb had been deployed as planned.'
Jim answered him. 'The plot was to destroy Achenar. You’d have discovered pretty quickly that the bomb didn’t work in a gravity field, despite all the successful simulations. The Imperial guard would have descended on the SuperCobra. Without a working laser your team would have been captured in short order. Even if they self destructed the Imperials would have the bomb and vid footage of the attempted attack.'
'Yes. The Imperials would have absolute proof of a failed military coup. A concrete violation of treaty. A permit for a just war. Galcop’s moment of glory would become its undoing. The Imperials would have declared war immediately. The Federation would have joined with them out of self-interest and the Thargoids would have finished off whatever little remained. I would have presided over the end of the Galactic Co-operative, which is not exactly what I wanted on my epitaph. I have only two years left before retirement, you know.'
'Frag…' Rebecca’s jaw hung slightly agape.
'As it stands, your bomb was a complete success for Galcop. It destroyed the Thargoid mothership and yet demonstrably can not be used against planetary targets, so we can reasonably claim that the ‘Manhattan Project’ was a piece of Imperial propaganda. You saved the remains of the Federation and Imperial blockade whilst putting the fear of God into them regarding Galcop’s military superiority. Our ambassador cannot wait to accept their thanks. Absolutely marvellous.' The President actually grinned.
'And the bomb itself?' Jim queried.
'Since the bomb has proven to be tactically no more dangerous than the traditional energy bomb, we have already arranged for the technology to be made public in exchange for all manner of worthwhile leverage over our erstwhile political opponents. In fact, with this Thargoid attack we have become, if not friends, certainly much less implacably hostile during just the last hour. It has been most refreshing: real progress has been made. We are talking now, and the most optimistic amongst us even believe a proper dialogue may be established.'
'So everyone gets the bomb…'
'… and parity is achieved once more. Perhaps crucially, the bomb does seem rather efficacious against the Thargoids, as you ably demonstrated. Having many ships, both public and private, thus equipped may prove quite an advantage. We will be able to take the fight back to them.'
'So,' Rebecca said, getting tired of all the talking, 'what about us?'
'That rather depends on you. I am rather afraid that Tyley and Feynman must silenced. They know too much.'
Rebecca scowled. 'I knew it. You’re going to do us in! I won’t go quietly! You bunch of murdering, dictatorial stards!'
The President held up his hand.
'My dear, we have no intention of ‘doing you in’, as you so eloquently put it. Our problem is that your names are registered in too many data silos outside of our control. We can not protect you. Do not doubt that the Federals or Imperials have been closely watching! The prices on your heads at this time are enough to tempt any bounty hunter across the eight galaxies to investigate.'
'So somebody else will do us in!'
'In appreciation of your efforts we are prepared to offer you new identities, generous credit balances, permits, even background life stories. It has been arranged. We will take over your previous personas and manage them ourselves.'
'How? What’s the catch?'
'The Lave authority logs and your homeworld electorate information will be edited appropriately. True, you yourselves will need minor hex-editing, so you can fit in with your new identities, nothing more serious than that. Your memories will be intact, but we respectfully ask you not to speak of certain aspects of this incident.'
'And if we do?'
'You will find that various pre-prepared and somewhat unflattering psychometric evaluations on your good selves will find their way into the public domain. I would imagine incarceration and severe regression therapy would follow shortly afterwards.'
'Suppressing the truth?' Jim said cautiously. 'Altering the facts to suit your version of history?'
The President smiled. 'History is merely a consensus view written by the survivors… surely you understand that?'
Jim felt Rebecca stiffen beside him. 'And if we refuse to do what you say? If we refuse to be hex-edited?'
The President made a small hand gesture.
Every single Navy officer brought up his rifle, efficiently arming it and pointing it straight at them in a fluid co-ordinated fashion.
'Tyley and Feynman tragically die before they can be rescued from their mortally wounded ship. Now… that would be a great pity, do you not think?'
Rebecca swallowed, looking at all the guns. 'Hex-editing is good.'
'I hope you see we are being quite generous.'
Rebecca opened her mouth to say something. Jim stood on her foot, hard.
The President beamed at her, 'Miss Rebecca Weston, meet Mister Jim McKenna.'
They looked at each other.
'And who are we?' Rebecca demanded.
'You are pretty much who you were,' The President said, 'a trader, making her way upwards in the galaxy, with a clean legal status now, which I trust you will maintain. We will reinstate your credit balance, insurance and access rights. Jim will be a university professor, touring from another galactic sector giving lectures on flight systems. Obviously your locations at the time will show you were not involved. Jim’s family and colleagues will undergo similar conditioning. Due to those tragic circumstances which I truly and deeply regret, that is not necessary for you.'
'What about Tyley and Feynman?'
'It will soon be known that a new type of device was used to counter the Thargoid incursion here at Lave. It will eventually be found that two humble research scientists were involved in the construction of the bomb, and heroically helped deploy it here. Shy of public scrutiny, they will never be seen by anyone outside their comfortable ivory tower and will quietly be forgotten as time moves on. This will come to light over the next decade or so of course, as a thorough investigation runs its course and certain information is declassified as appropriate. Doubtless the media will do their best to pry. Infact, I am counting on it.'
The President actually winked at them.
'Elyssia Tyley and Richard Feynman will be regarded as heroes for saving us from a terrible Thargoid incursion. Only their names will be remembered for any length of time once the bomb is widely available.'
'Elyssia and Richard!' Rebecca spluttered. 'Where did you get those names from? And why will their names be famous?'
'Other than this Thargoid business? Well, we decided to call the bomb, the ‘Tyley-Feynman Quirium Cascade Mine’ once it is openly available, in honour of their achievements. Rather grand; rolls pleasantly off the tongue, do you not think?'
'I think it stinks.' Rebecca said after a moment’s reflection. 'Just call it the Q-bomb and be done with it. That’s what everyone else will call it!'
In the Onrira Torus station’s main hangar a brand new Cobra Courier stood gleaming in the bright repair lights. Its duralium was still reflective, still untarnished by radiation exposure or scarred by the inevitable docking scrapes. It had magenta running lights and trim. Jim could just make out the text Eclipse II inscribed on the fore flank.
'Nice ship. I thought you were going for a Mamba?'
Rebecca looked a bit sheepish. 'I really wanted one, then realised it was only a fighter escort. No hyperdrive. Don’t know what I was thinking. It would have been a little embarrassing the first time I headed for the witchpoint marker.'
'Oops. Good to see I’m not the only one who makes big mistakes. Cobra Courier, isn’t it?'
Rebecca looked fondly at the ship behind her. 'Latest and greatest. I was kind of spoiled by the SuperCobra I guess. This is the next best thing. Funny really, I used to think the Cobra series was so dull, but they're really a great all round ship. Doubt the SuperCobra will be up for sale any time soon though.'
'Maybe one day the design will be declassified. Where are you off to?'
'Arexe. I’m doing a favour for Galcop, hunting down some bad ass renegade ship. Top secret and all that prak.'
'Very public-spirited. Sounds like your kind of caper.'
'You could come with me,' she said, a trifle wistfully. 'It’s a two man ship. You’re not so bad as a techie. You did well with that missile.'
'I’m no fighter. My life so far has been building technology. Now it’s time I thought a bit more about the consequences. This is something I need to do. I want to get this bomb banned and that means I need to be here. There’s so much that needs changing.'
'That conscience of yours is still working overtime, I see.' she said with a hint of disapproval, 'What does Galcop think of this, then?'
'Oddly enough, they approve. I don’t think they were truly happy with the Q-bomb being wildly available. They don’t think I’ve got a whelk’s chance in a supernova, but they aren’t going to stand in my way.'
'So what are you up to now?'
'Believe it or not I’m attending a symposium on the merits of scooping escape pods.'
'Sounds thrilling.' She rolled her eyes.
'Apparently my little Pod scooping technique is being considered by the insurance industry as a way to rescue paying clients and drop pirates into the brig. You might soon get a reward for scooping rather than a rating hit.'
'And there was you thinking you hadn’t made a difference!'
'Look out for Galcop Pod Protocol resolution v1.65 later on this year!'
Rebecca looked at Jim for a moment. 'Sure you won’t change your mind?' she said. 'Last chance!'
He smiled, 'Rebecca, I’ve got to do this, I owe it to the people who died, to Geraint and all the others. Besides, we’d argue about coolants again. We’d kill each other inside a week.'
'I’d kill you first.' she replied jauntily, her head held high, but her voice tightened. 'So, any last advice for an incorrigible trader?'
'Yes, actually,' he said, seriously, taking a step closer to her.
'… which is?' she prompted, a half smile on her face, her head tilted to one side. She looked up at him expectantly, coyly, her eyes half-closed in anticipation.
'Give up the revenge.'
He saw her eyes snap wide and then saw annoyance, anger, frustration and defiance cross her face in sequence. She looked away.
'You should have just given me a kiss goodbye and sent me on my way,' she snapped. 'That’s how all the holovids, end isn’t it? Why do you always have to frag things up?'
'I don’t want to see you killed needlessly.'
Because you can't help caring for someone after going through something like that!
'That stard killed my family,' she ground out at him.
'Killing him won’t bring them back.'
'Stop being so prakkin’ self righteous!' she shouted, oblivious that people in the hangar were turning to look at them, 'This is my deal, not yours!'
'Rebecca, I…'
'Anything else?' she snapped with an air of finality. Her cold, indifferent manner sliding back into place.
He sighed, maybe he should have just kissed her goodbye, 'No.'
'Good. See you around, Harmless.' She stormed off towards her waiting ship.
He watched her walking across the hanger bay, he called out, 'Any advice for me?'
She stopped, looked around and then looked away. He’d expected a choice phrase of trader profanity, but it didn’t come. She simply stood there. He could see she was trembling.
There had been tears in her eyes. He walked over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t turn and refused to look at him.
'Stay safe. Watch your back.' She said, her voice catching on the words, 'And don’t trade in thrumpberry flavouring - it’s unlucky! Don’t get into any escape pods without a gun. Shoot first! Don’t…'
'This isn't about me, is it?' his voice interrupted softly.
She turned and stared at him.
'What happened to your family wasn't your fault, Rebecca.'
He saw the muscles in her face clench. For a moment he thought she was going to hit him again, but suddenly the fight seemed to go out of her.
'I was going to leave them when we reached Diso you know.'she confessed, 'I had this angle on my own ship and I’d figured out a way to do it! I was going to leave them high and dry. I didn’t care a damn about them. I was so prakkin’ selfish; I always have been. I was so concerned with my own future I wasted all that time I had with them.' her voice cracked and began to break up, 'Now they’re all gone and I wish I could have them back and I can’t…'
She burst into tears. He spun her around, took her in his arms and kissed her. She instinctively fought for a moment and then relented, succumbing willingly.
'You’ve got some nerve,' she snapped when she could speak again.
'Learnt that from you.' He replied with equal quickness.
She relented, relaxing in his embrace.
It would be so easy to stay…
'Jim… ' more tears appeared in her eyes, and trickled down her cheeks, 'I… I'm going to miss you. Promise me you'll be careful.'
'And you try to stay out of trouble.' he said seriously.
The tannoy sounded, echoing across the vast docking port of the Tori station, 'Cobra Courier Registration W4REB, please proceed to station aegis immediately.'
'I’ve got to go,' she whispered, resting her head against his chest. 'There isn’t time to…'
'I know. There never is.' His voice was soft.
'Stay safe. I mean it, I want to come back and see you some day.'
'Rebecca, I wish you’d call me ‘Jim’.'
'All right then, Jim.' She pulled away from him, her arrogant, jaunty manner returning almost immediately. He smiled to himself. For a brief moment he’d seen the real Rebecca, a softer, warmer, yet lonely woman hidden behind the tough, hot-headed, hard-nosed trader girl. It was a big galaxy, but maybe there was a chance he really would see her again.
Will she give it up? I'm not sure. I've said my piece, what else can I do?
'I’ll be here,' he affirmed. 'This is my home after all. Make sure you visit.'
She held him tightly again for a brief moment before letting him go, wiping at her eyes.
'Oh, by the way,' he said, giving her a chance to regain her composure. 'I’m not Harmless anymore.'
'Oh yeah? What are you now then?'
He shrugged, looking sheepish. '… Mostly Harmless.'
She grinned. 'Mostly Harmless! Oooh! Fearsome!'
'I’ll be Poor soon, you wait and see.'
She laughed, wiping away tears. 'You'll always be poor! You can't shoot straight! You can’t even cope with a witchspace mis-jump; some combateer you’d make!'
'I’ll get used to it, give me twenty five years or so and I'll make Elite. You wait and see.'
'Elite!' she said, almost choking with mirth, pulling a face reminiscent of the terrified expression he’d had on his face during their erratic ‘un-mis-jump’. 'More like Ooooolite!'
