Beyond Asimios: Book One

by Martin Fossum

  —So everyone, Carrera went on… Austin’s been with us for over twenty years, from the time ESCOM bought out his consulting firm here in Seattle to his ascent to ESCOM project manager on Phobos.

  —It’s exciting to finally meet you. I’ve always wanted to visit Phobos. I’ve heard that nothing compares to a Martian sunrise.

  —That’s not true, Halpern said. A Martian sunset, by consensus, has it beat.

  —Because of Austin’s service, Carrera continued, and the challenges ESCOM faces, I’ve appointed him our new Chief of Security. It’s a cabinet position with the highest levels of clearance. Please make him feel at home as a new member to our circle.

  The three again extended congratulations.

  —Welcome onboard, Isabelle said.

  —Yes, welcome, Inver said. I’m sure we have much to discuss.

  —We’ll give him our traditional security briefing, Carrera said, and then everyone here will help him to settle in. There will be a transition phase, of course, but the sooner we move on this the better. Now, Austin, I insist that you get some rest. Tomorrow looms large. Your accommodations have been arranged and your assistant has been instructed to provide you with whatever it is you might need. Good day, Mr. Halpern, and thank you…

  Halpern gave a short bow and then shuffled toward the door where he paused to retrieve his cane. For the sake of his audience, he exaggerated his limp, and as he did a slight smirk crossed his lips…and the smirk travelled over the valley of his mouth and over to his scar where it climbed, in hunger and haste, up the pitted trench of tender, new flesh.

  There was much to think about now, thought Halpern as he hobbled through the empty hallways of the ESCOM wing. Whitney had left her desk and Ernesto was nowhere to be seen, and as he tried to navigate the corridors and causeways by memory, he began to brood over recent developments.

  —The game is afoot, he muttered to himself as he halted along. He had met his obstacles to the throne and they were mere mortals, and that is all that was needed to assure himself of the tangibility of his prize. He was the “rising star” as President Carrera had put it. It was clear that he stood in the old man’s favor. Then again, it might be presumptuous to assume that Carrera was playing favorites. It would be reckless to think that the president held one, and only one, as his chosen heir; but, then again, the promotion and the heaps of praise…if that wasn’t a signal of some sort, what was? It was a sign that one stood out from the pack. It was a hint that one’s time has come, and to ignore this would be to shirk from one’s duties to the company. Then again, reading the hearts of men is a dangerous endeavor: it’s reckless and often leads to delusion. Ambition has ruined many a good man…but Halpern wouldn’t be so foolish to let this happen to him.

  As the new Chief of Security wandered the halls of the executive wing, he began to succumb to feelings of estrangement. He felt…lost. After ten or fifteen minutes of meandering, he concluded that he had seen not one soul in the entire time he’d been trying to escape this dreadful section of the building. He sense of time was distorted. With no VI and no wristwatch he began to wonder just how long it had been since he’d left the president’s office: was it ten minutes…or was it an hour? He stopped for a moment. His raised his good hand and observed the tremor. He waved it—traced it six inches in front of his face—and drew up his VI. What? His VI was up! He immediately hailed Ernesto and Ernesto’s face spilled out into the visual.

  —Yessir? What can I help you with, sir?

  —Larkin, goddammit! I need you to send for a car. I need a car.

  —Right away, sir.

  —And Larkin…

  —Yessir?

  —Where the hell am I?

  As the limousine glided over the bridge to Mercer Island, there was a brief downpour—a rain that descended in sheets—and the lights and feel of a real Earth city—its colors, its sounds, and its smells—stirred old memories of restlessness and desire.

  The moment he realized his VI was up, after stumbling through the corridors of ESCOM HQ, Halpern saw that Esther had answered his message. She asked if the two of them could meet, and, considering the situation, he accepted the invitation. Nava, of course, would be the topic of their conversation. Her tangles with the authorities were becoming inconvenient, and Halpern wondered what Esther thought of it all and what he might be able to do to rectify the situation.

  The restaurant was small and cheery—it was a small café—and Halpern recognized his former wife immediately as he stepped over the threshold and scanned the tables for familiar faces.

  She was thinner than he remembered. She wore a pleated jacket over a dark top and her graying hair was pushed into a subdued version of the popular double-horn style that the youth were currently wearing. Her features were older, but still delicate. Her nose was small and her cheeks healthy. There was something old fashioned about her appearance—a classic face—and she stood up when Halpern turned her way.

  —Esther, Halpern said as he limped over to her table. Good god. I can’t believe it. It’s been years.

  —You’re almost an hour late, she said as she dropped back down into her seat. Some things never change.

  —I’m hardly half an hour late, and yes, things do change.

  Halpern pulled out a chair and slowly sat down. He propped his cane between his legs and wrapped his fingers around the handle.

  —You look like you’ve been mugged, Austin. What in the world happened to you?

  —Oh, just a slight inconvenience, he said. A little matter of a disgruntled employee on Phobos. She was terminated, unfortunately. Halpern took a distracted moment to look through the window in the direction of the limo. Outside, he saw that his driver was leaning up against a light post while he looked in at Halpern and Esther, and Halpern wondered if Esther would notice his presence.

  —Well, we’re not here to discuss your sordid affairs, Esther said.

  Halpern sent her a sharp look: Esther, he said. If this turns out to be a fight, I’ll leave.

  —Excuse me. I apologize.

  —Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

  —I’ll be civil, Austin. It’s just hard seeing you again. I guess I’m a little afraid of how old we’ve grown. Please…

  The waiter came over and Esther pleaded that they order drinks and some food. Outside it had started to rain again, and Halpern’s bodyguard abandoned his light post and climbed back into the shelter of the car.

  —So, have you heard anything new about Nava? Halpern said as he turned to Esther. I haven’t had a spare minute since coming out of coldsleep. I haven’t had a chance to look into things.

  —Not a word, Esther said. I wish she’d try to contact me. She’s never been good at that, though. She’s always focused on other things. I wish I could just hear her voice to know that she’s all right.

  —I looked over her file when I was on Phobos, Halpern said as he picked up a glass of wine the waiter had placed in front of him. Apparently Interpol thinks she’s one of the leaders in the protest rally in Berlin that resulted in two fatalities. Two policemen were killed.

  —And they are sure Nava was part of it?

  —Apparently. There’s evidence: circumstantial.

  —What do you think we should do? I just don’t know how to approach this.

  —I’m not sure. She’s guilty by association, unfortunately, and she’ll likely be rounded up with the rest of them and be sent in for reprogramming, or worse. I suppose, once she’s caught, it will be up to the prosecuting judge to determine punishment.

  At this point Esther reached down and picked up her shoulder bag and she placed it on her lap.

  —I wanted to give this to you, Esther said. It was Nava’s. It’s been among her things, and I was going through them the other day and found it. You gave it to her a long time ago. I thought you might want it.

  Halpern took the package, unwrapped it and found a small broach in a bed of soft paper.

  —It’s a Martian opal, he said. It’
s a rare stone.

  —You gave it to her after your first trip to Mars. She had just turned sixteen.

  —Yes, I remember.

  Halpern turned the stone over and on the back, on the gold case, was inscribed a short note: For My Daughter, Nava, Love, Dad.

  —I haven’t seen her in years, Austin. I’m moving to a smaller apartment in the city soon, and I have to decide what to do with her things.

  —Thank you, Esther, Halpern said as he wrapped up the stone and slid it in his pocket.

  They took a moment to taste their food and take a sip of wine. The rain had lightened up a bit and there was light music surrounding them. A few customers came and went.

  —I’ve been promoted, Halpern said through the gap in conversation.

  Esther looked impressed.

  —I’m now officially ESCOM’s Chief of Security. It’s a pretty serious position. It’s a cabinet post and I’ll be working closely with President Carrera.

  —Carrera himself? My word. Well, that explains the ape you have keeping an eye on you.

  Esther nodded in the direction of the bodyguard who, once again, was leaning against the light post.

  —I’m on Earth for the duration, I think. No more Phobos.

  —That must be a relief.

  —I’ll miss Phobos and Mars.

  —You can always go back.

  —That is true, but there are things going on that need to be addressed. I can’t go into the specifics, of course, but you’ll probably hear about them over time.

  —Is it related to ESCOM or Asimios?

  —I can’t say.

  They were quiet.

  —Can you help Nava, Esther said. Is there anything you can do?

  —I don’t know. I’ll see. It might help to get her out of Germany, but there are a lot of hoops to jump through. We’d also have to find her first.

  Esther’s brow furrowed. I hope you can help her, Austin, she said. I simply have neither money nor the connections to influence action on this. You are the only one that I can think of who might be able to help.

  Austin nodded. Esther was a mother who wanted to see her daughter healthy and safe. He understood that. But Nava had entered a new world of hurt after getting involved with these terrorists. Finding her may be possible, but getting her out of her hole might not be in the cards.

  —So, said Esther after a moment or two, I’ve been meaning to ask. Avery…have you seen him? Is he on Phobos after the pullout, or maybe Mars?

  Halpern put his fork down and closed his eyes. Esther, he said as he looked up from the plate. I haven’t told you this, but Avery didn’t make it off Asimios. He didn’t come back with the team.

  Esther shook her head. What do you mean? she said. What do you mean he didn’t come back with the team?

  —I’m sorry that I haven’t told you this. Avery took his own life.

  —What? I don’t get it. What do you mean?

  —On the day of extraction, Avery killed himself with an explosive charge. From what we know, he was unwilling to leave the planet. He was depressed, Esther. Unhealthy. I’ve never seen him in such bad shape. Perhaps he’s better off where he is now. Maybe now he’s found some peace.

  Esther was silent for a moment. She swallowed and her eyes filled with tears. How sad, she said.

  —I’m sorry, Esther. You were close, I know.

  —Was there a service? Were you able to bring his body to Earth?

  —Unfortunately, we had a short window to make it back to the portal. We had ordinance set for detonation and if we weren’t through the hole in time, we jeopardized the safety of the ship. We had to leave him behind. It was hard on everyone. It was selfish, in a way, and maybe cowardly. We needed his leadership on the Tacitus, to get us all home, and he let us down.

  —Oh, how sad.

  Halpern nodded.

  Esther picked up her napkin and dried the tears that had cut wet paths down her cheeks.

  —I guess you think you’re too old to be affected by this sort of thing, she said. I didn’t expect to hear this. All the dangerous stuff you guys do, one feels immune to the news of a death. Then a wind hits you from out of nowhere.

  —I’m sorry.

  —Oh, fuck it. Fuck it.

  On the drive back to Seattle, once the car was off the island and on the bridge, Halpern waved his hand and brought up Larkin on his VI.

  —Yes, sir. I can I help you.

  —I just spent the evening having dinner with my ex-wife, Larkin.

  —Well, that’s good, sir. Isn’t it? I mean…I’m glad to hear that.

  —I need a drink Larkin.

  —You deserve it, sir.

  —I was hoping for company, Larkin, but I guess you’ll have to do.

  —Right, sir.

  —Let’s meet downtown. I have a place in mind…an old haunt. I’ll send my location.

  —I’m on my way, sir.

  After giving the driver directions, Halpern gazed out of the window as the car wound its way through the city and into the area of Belltown, just north of downtown. Halpern identified the old bar, and after they found a place to park his handler escorted the hobbling security chief inside. Lopez-Larkin wasn’t thirty seconds behind, and he came up to Halpern, slightly winded, but eager to please.

  —I’ve spent a lot of time in this place, Larkin, Halpern said where he stood, leaning up against the bar. Been a lot of celebrations here and a lot of good times.

  —It’s nice, sir, Ernesto said as he looked the place over. Has a kind of nostalgic feel. A bit of history here.

  Halpern waved over the server and ordered two shots of bourbon. When the drinks came, Ernesto was about to pick up his glass when Halpern intercepted his hand.

  —Oh, no you don’t, Halpern said.

  —What?

  —These shots for me. Remember your promise?

  Ernesto looked defeated.

  —Sorry, sir.

  Halpern took his own glass and emptied it and he grimaced went the liquor hit his stomach. He then pushed the other glass of whisky back at Ernesto.

  —I was just kidding, Larkin. Down the hatch.

  And Larkin took the drink, a faint smile breaking over the corner of his mouth. After the second round, Ernesto screwed up the courage to ask Halpern about his visit with President Carrera, and Halpern, feeling slightly dizzy now after two drinks, pulled the young assistant in close.

  —Well, I’ll be damned if my little oracle didn’t foresee the future.

  —What do you mean, sir?

  —You were right, Halpern said as he tried to blink the fuzziness from his eyes. (Coldsleep has many side effects.)

  —Sir, please tell me.

  —I’ve been promoted to a cabinet position, Larkin, he said. Chief of Security.

  Ernesto came alive.

  —Congratulations, sir, he said.

  —This may be the last night I enjoy a certain degree of anonymity, said Halpern. Tomorrow, everything changes.

  —Why not enjoy one more round, just to celebrate? Ernesto said.

  —Good idea, Larkin. But that’s it. One more and we’re done.

  Halpern ordered another round of whiskies and a pair of beer chasers and they leaned into the bar and listened to the light music and the murmuring of voices echoing off the high ceilings. Eric, Halpern’s handler, stood still as a statue, scanning the crowd from behind a pair of defense-enhanced glasses. Eric was getting several terrified looks.

  —Sir, if I may, Larkin said after a minute of quiet.

  —What, Larkin?

  —I’ve been wondering recently…about ESCOM’s position on Mars.

  —Yes, Larkin, what were you wondering about?

  —Well, its just that…I know that we have about a sixty-two point seven percent share of the information networks on Mars, and that our long-term outlook for supply management is high growth…

  Halpern began to frown.

  —I was just wondering, sir—and I know this is a slightly aw
kward moment to bring this up—but I was curious, in relation to Fitzsimmon’s theories on off-earth market valuations, if it is possible, if one take into account Lubeck’s post-colonial collapse paradigm, if ESCOM could, or rather should, try exploiting the Roger’s model of expanding returns and sink investment in distribution chains of Martian (or asteroidal) poly-metalics?

  At this Halpern’s frown morphed into a full growl. He swung his can hard against the surface of the bar.

  THWAK!

  —Enough! Halpern cried out. Enough!

  8

  Anne Erlich’s apartment was small. The carpet was tan-brown, the couch was gray-brown, and the pictures hanging on the beige walls were of things brown, like flowers and churches and the sea. The wooden furniture that was scattered about the room was in disrepair and creaked violently when it took on weight. There was an end table near the couch, and on it stood, along with a lamp that cast an amber glow, an assortment of old person’s things, like bottles of pills, tubes of ointments, candy wrappers, old magazines, and glasses of water in different stages of consumption.

  With her body worn out and her pension exhausted, Anne Erlich made what little money she could by cleaning houses and by selling flowers and foodstuffs scavenged in the fields outside of town. Her extended family helped her to pay her rent, but money was hard to come by, and with each passing day there was a greater chance that she would have to give up her home and move to a retirement center along with the other old and disabled who could no longer afford to live. There she would likely be given euphoridol, among other drugs…medications designed to ease one’s “transition.”

  Anne Erlich had two simple wishes: first, that she would be buried in the church graveyard where she had been born, in Lietzen, Germany; and second, that Michael, Nava, and their new daughter would find the happiness all young people deserve.

  —Alles klar! Anne called out after the Flyboy rose from the landing outside her window and darted away.

  The others came out from where they had concealed themselves in the bedroom, and Anne handed over to Michael the small cardboard package she had removed from the belly of the drone.