by Ben Bova
Tavalera trudged wearily back along the tunnel he had come down. At least he was pretty certain it was the same tunnel. He had taken a couple of turns out near the endcap, where several tunnels joined together.
No sign of Holly. Maybe those security goons got her. He felt anger welling up inside him—anger and frustration and fear, mixed and churning inside his guts. And the sullen ache in his side where they had whacked him with their batons.
The bastards, he thought. Holly never hurt anybody. Why are they out to get her? Where could she be? Is she safe? Have they got her? Where could she be?
He stopped walking and looked around the dimly lit tunnel. Pipes and electrical conduits ran along the overhead and both walls.
"Christ," he muttered, "where the hell am I?"
Monitoring the security cameras was easy duty. Gee Archer had his back to the double row of surveillance screens as he tapped a stylus against his teeth, planning his next move.
"You sleeping?" asked Yoko Chiyoda, grinning impishly.
"Thinking," said Archer.
"It's hard to tell the difference."
She was a big woman, with a blocky torso and thick limbs well muscled from years of martial arts training. Archer was slim, almost delicate, with slicked-back blond hair and soft hazel eyes. The tabletop screen between them showed the battle dispositions of the Russian and Japanese fleets at the Tsushima Straits in May 1905. Just to devil Archer, she had taken the Russian side, and was beating him soundly nevertheless.
"Gimme a minute," Archer mumbled.
"You've already had-"
Several things happened at once. The sprinklers set in the ceiling began spraying them with water. The intercom loudspeakers blared, "FIRE. EVACUATE THE BUILDING AT ONCE." Archer jumped to his feet, banging his shin painfully against the play table. Chiyoda sputtered as she got up, blinking against the spray of ice-cold water drenching her. She grabbed Archer's hand and dragged him limping toward the door.
Unseen behind them, one of the surveillance screens showed a lone woman walking swiftly along the empty street in Athens that led from the administration building to the complex of apartment buildings further up the hill. The security computer's synthesized voice was saying, "Ninety-three percent match between the person in camera view and the fugitive Holly Lane. Notify security headquarters at once to take appropriate steps to apprehend the fugitive Holly Lane. She is wanted for questioning..."
But neither Archer nor Chiyoda heard the security computer. They were already halfway out of the building, drenched, rushing blindly to escape the fire that did not exist, except in the circuits of the safety computer.
Computers are so smart, Holly thought, and so dumb. A human person would've looked to see if there really was a fire in the building. But give a computer the right set of instructions and it'll act as if a fire had truly broken out.
She grinned as she skipped up the steps in front of the apartment building and tapped out its security code. The door sighed open and she stepped in, out of range of the surveillance cameras at last, and hurried up the stairs to the second level, where Wilmot's apartment was.
And ran almost into the arms of the two security officers standing in the corridor outside Wilmot's door.
"Nobody's allowed to see Professor Wilmot," said the first one.
"But I—"
"Hey!" snapped the second guard, recognition dawning on his face. "You're Holly Lane, aren't you?"
Holly turned to run, but the guard grasped her arm. She swung on him but the second guard grabbed her other arm in midswing.
"Come on, now. We don't want to hurt you."
Holly saw it was useless. She relaxed and glowered at them.
The first guard banged on Wilmot's door hard enough to rattle it against its frame while the second one spoke excitedly into his handheld:
"We've got her! Holly Lane. The fugitive. She's here at Wilmot's quarters."
A tinny voice replied, "Excellent. Hold her there until we arrive."
Wilmot opened his door, a fuzzy robe of royal blue wrapped around him and tightly tied at the waist. His eyes widened with surprise as he saw Holly in the grip of the guard.
"Got a visitor for you, Professor," the guard said, pushing Holly past the startled old man and into his sitting room. Then he slid the door shut again.
"I suppose I shouldn't be astonished that you're here," Wilmot said, standing by the door. "The remarkable thing is that you've managed to elude the security people for so long."
"Not long enough," Holly said ruefully.
"Well... do sit down. We might as well be comfortable. Would you like something? Sherry, perhaps?"
"No thanks." Holly perched on the edge of one of the twin armchairs. She glanced at the closed door. No other way out of here, she knew. Wilmot sank down into the other armchair with a pained sigh.
"Whatever brought you here, to me?" he asked.
"I wanted your help," Holly said. "Colonel Kananga murdered Don Diego and he's after me now."
"Diego Romero? I thought his death was an accident."
"It was murder," said Holly. "Kananga did it. He tried to kill me when I found out about it."
"And Eberly is in on it, is he?"
"You know about that?" Holly asked, surprised.
His face showing distaste, Wilmot said, "He's put out a dossier that purports to show you are dangerously unbalanced."
Holly bit back the anger and remorse that surged within her. "Yes. Malcolm's protecting Kananga."
"A little earlier this evening Dr. Cardenas sent me your dossier from the files on Earth. Eberly's done some creative lying about you."
"Then you'll help me?"
Wilmot shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm not even able to help myself, actually. He's got me locked in here."
"Locked up? You? How could he do that? I mean, you're—"
"It's a long, sad story," said Wilmot wearily.
"Well, now he's got me, too," Holly said.
"Yes, I'm afraid so."
SATURN ARRIVAL Minus 3 Days, 45 Minutes
Eberly frowned as Kananga shooed the last of the well-wishers out of his apartment. He had enjoyed his triumph at the rally, gloried in the crowd's adulation. Carried off on their shoulders! Eberly had never known such a moment.
Now, as midnight approached, Kananga officiously shoved the last starry-eyed young woman out into the corridor and slid the apartment's front door firmly shut. Morgenthau sat on the sofa, nibbling at one of the trays of finger food that had been set out. Vyborg hunched by a three-dimensional image of the newscast, already showing a rerun of Eberly's minidebate against the red-haired scientist.
"You've got them," Vyborg said. "They all want to get rich. Most of them, at least."
"It was a brilliant stroke," Morgenthau agreed.
Still leaning against the door, Kananga snapped, "Turn that thing off. We've found her."
A surge of sudden fear cut through the elation Eberly had been feeling. "Found her? Holly?"
Smiling grimly, Kananga said, "Yes. She tried to sneak into Professor Wilmot's quarters. Looking to him for help, I suppose."
"Where is she now?"
"Still there. My people have the apartment sealed off. I told them to cut Wilmot's phone off, too."
"What are you going to do with her?" Morgenthau asked.
The euphoria ebbed out of Eberly like water swirling down a drain. Morgenthau had asked Kananga, not him.
"We'll have to eliminate her. Permanently."
"Tricky," said Vyborg. "If she's with Wilmot you can't just go in there and snap her neck."
"She can always be killed trying to escape," Kananga said.
"Escape how?"
Kananga thought a moment. Then, "Perhaps she runs away from my guards and goes to an airlock. She puts on a spacesuit and tries to go outside, to hide from us. But the suit is defective, or perhaps she didn't seal it up properly."
Morgenthau nodded.
Spreading his hands in a fait accomp
li gesture, Kananga said, "Poor girl. She panicked and killed herself."
With a mean chuckle, Vyborg said, "She always was unbalanced, after all."
The three of them turned to Eberly. This is getting out of control, he thought. They're making me a party to their murders. They're forcing me to go along with them. They'll be able to hold this over my head forever.
And after tomorrow, when I'm the elected head of the government, they'll still have power over me. I'll be a figurehead, a puppet dancing to their tune. They'll have the power, not me.
Kananga slid the door open. Eberly could see that the corridor outside was empty now. It was late. All his adoring crowd had gone to their own homes.
"Shall we go pick her up?" Kananga said.
"I'll go," said Eberly, trying to sound firmer, more in control, than he really felt. "Alone."
Kananga's eyes narrowed. "Alone?"
"Alone. It would be more believable if she escaped from me than from two of your thugs, wouldn't it?"
Before Kananga could reply, Vyborg said, "He's right. We've got to make the story as plausible as possible."
Morgenthau eyed Eberly carefully. "This young woman is a definite threat to us all. Whether we like it or not, she's got to be eliminated. For the greater good."
"I understand," said Eberly.
"Good," Morgenthau replied.
Kananga looked less agreeable. He obviously wanted to take care of this himself. Eberly pulled himself up to his full height and stepped to the door. He had to look up to see into Kananga's eyes. The Rwandan tried to face him unflinchingly, but after a few heartbeats he moved away from the door. Eberly walked past him and out into the corridor.
Not daring to look back, he strode down the hallway toward the outside door.
Standing in the apartment doorway watching him, Kananga muttered, "Do you think he's strong enough to carry this out?"
Morgenthau pushed herself up from the sofa. "Give him a few minutes. Then you go to Wilmot's building and take the guards away from his apartment door. Wait for him and the girl outside the building. When Eberly brings her out, you and the guards can take over."
Vyborg agreed. "That way he's not party to the killing. Good."
Morgenthau cast him a contemptuous glance. "He's party to it. We're all party to it. I want to make certain that the girl is taken care of properly."
Holly came out of Wilmot's bathroom and sat tiredly on the sofa. The digital clock showed it was past midnight.
"My phone doesn't work," the professor grumbled. "They really want to keep us incommunicado."
"What's going to happen now?" she wondered.
With a sigh that was almost a snort, Wilmot replied, "That's in the lap of the gods. Or Eberly and his claque, rather."
"I wish there was some way I could talk to Kris Cardenas."
"Dr. Cardenas lives in this building, doesn't she?"
"Yes."
Wilmot glanced at the door. "With those two guards outside, I don't suppose we'd be able to get to her."
"Guess not." The sofa felt very comfortable to Holly. She leaned back into its yielding softness.
"It's rather late," said the professor. "I'm going to bed. You can stretch out on the sofa if you like."
Holly nodded. Wilmot got up from his armchair and walked slowly back to his bedroom.
He hesitated at the bedroom door. "You know where the bathroom is. If you need anything, just give a rap."
"Thank you," said Holly, suppressing a yawn.
Wilmot went into his bedroom and shut the door. Holly stretched out on the sofa and, despite everything, fell into a dreamless sleep as soon as she closed her eyes.
Thinking furiously, Eberly walked slowly along the path that led from his apartment building to Wilmot's.
The voting starts in a few hours, he said to himself. In twelve hours or so I'll be the head of the new government. I'll have it all in my grasp.
But what good will that be if Kananga and the rest of them can hold their murders over my head? They'll be able to control me! Make me jump to their tune! I'll just be a figurehead. They'll have the real power.
It was enough to make him weep, almost. Here I've struggled and planned and worked all these months and now that the prize is at my fingertips they want to keep it from me. It's always been that way; every time I reach for safety, for success and happiness, there's someone in my way, someone in power who puts his foot on my neck and pushes me back down into the mud.
What can I do? What can I do? They've put me in this position and they'll never let me out of it.
As he came up the walk in front of Wilmot's building he saw that one of Kananga's guards was standing outside the front door, waiting for him.
Of course, Eberly thought. Kananga's already talked to him, told him that I'd be coming. Kananga and the others are probably coming up behind me.
And then it hit him. He stopped a dozen meters in front of the black-clad guard. The revelation was so powerful, so beautiful, so perfect that a lesser man would have sunk to his knees and thanked whatever god he believed in. Eberly had no god, though. He simply broke into a wide, happy smile, grinning from ear to ear. His knees still felt a little rubbery, but he strode right up to the guard, who opened the building's front door for him. Without a word, without even a nod to the man, Eberly swept past him and started up the steps to Professor Wilmot's apartment.
The knock on the door startled Holly awake. She sat up like a shot, fully alert.
"Holly, it's me," came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. "Malcolm."
She got up from the sofa and went to the door. Sliding it open, she saw Eberly. And only one guard in the corridor.
Turning to the guard, Eberly said, "You can go now. I'll take charge here."
The guard touched his right hand to his forehead in a sloppy salute, then headed toward the stairs.
"Holly, I'm sorry it's come to this," Eberly said as he stepped into the sitting room and looked around. "Where's Professor Wilmot?"
"Asleep," she replied. "I'll get him."
Wilmot came into the room, wearing the same fuzzy robe. Otherwise he looked normal, wide awake. Not a hair out of place. His face, though, was set in an expression that Holly had never seen on the old man before: wariness, apprehension, almost fear.
"May I sit down?" Eberly asked politely.
"I imagine you can do anything you bloody well like," said Wilmot, irritably.
Instead of sitting, though, Eberly took an oblong black box from his tunic pocket and swung it across the room in a full circle, then swept it up and down, from ceiling to floor and back again.
"What're you doing?" Holly asked.
"Exterminating bugs," said Eberly. "Making certain our conversation isn't overheard by anyone else."
Wilmot bristled. "You've had my quarters bugged for some time, haven't you?"
"That was Vyborg's doing," Eberly lied smoothly, "not mine."
"Indeed."
"I want to get this all straightened out before there's any more violence," Eberly said as he finally sat in the nearer of the two armchairs.
"So do I," said Holly.
Wilmot sank slowly into the armchair facing Eberly. Holly went to the sofa. She sat down and tucked her feet under her, feeling almost like a little mouse trying to make herself seem as small and invisible as possible.
"You're in danger, Holly. Kananga wants to execute you."
"What do you intend to do about it?" Wilmot demanded.
"I need your help," Eberly replied.
"My help? What do you expect me to do?"
"In eighteen hours or so I'll be the elected head of the new government," said Eberly. "Until then you are still the director of this community, sir."
"I'm under house arrest and threatened with scandal," Wilmot grumbled. "What power do I have?"
"If you ordered those guards away, they would obey you."
"Would they?"
Eberly nodded. "Yes, providing I second yo
ur command."
"I see."
Holly swiveled her attention from Eberly to Wilmot and back again. Scandal? she wondered. House arrest? What's going on between these two?
She said to Eberly, "Kananga killed Don Diego, didn't he?"
"Yes."
"And he wants to kill me."
"He certainly does."
"How are you going to stop him?"
"By arresting him," Eberly said, without hesitation. But his face looked worried, doubtful.
"Suppose he doesn't want to be arrested?" Wilmot said. "He's the chief of the security forces, after all."
"That's where you come in, sir. You still have the legal power and the moral authority to command the security officers."
"Moral authority," Wilmot mumbled.
"We'll need to arrest Morgenthau and Vyborg as well. They were parties to Kananga's crime."
"Easier said than done. If Kananga wants to resist, I'll warrant most of the security force will follow his lead, not mine."
Holly said, "But the security force is only about three dozen men and women."
"That's a dozen for each of us," Wilmot pointed out.
"Yes," said Holly. "But there are ten thousand other men and women in this habitat."
ELECTION DAY
Kananga looked at his wristwatch, then up at the apartment building. He'd been waiting out in the street with a half-dozen of his best people for nearly an hour.
"I don't think she's coming out, sir," said the team's leader. "We could go in and get her."
"No," Kananga barked. "Wait."
He yanked his handheld from his tunic pocket and called for Eberly.
"What's going on?" he demanded as soon as Eberly's face appeared on the miniature screen.
"Miss Lane is going to stay here in Professor Wilmot's quarters for the time being," Eberly said smoothly.
"What? That's not acceptable."
"She'll remain here until after the election is finished. We don't want to have anything disturb the voting."
"I don't see why—"
