Regan's Reach 2: Orbital Envy

by Mark G Brewer

  He stood and began to pace around the table, forcing each to turn and follow his progress. On reaching the chairman he paused and placed one hand on each shoulder of the uncomfortable Canadian. "We, this council need to take up the responsibility and leadership the world expects from us. The proposal which is outlined in the documents you now hold has been prepared by the Russian President and I in consultation with the Chinese leadership and many other like minded concerned nations. In short, the proposal is for this council to take oversight of Hillary Station, on behalf of the world and in defense of the Earth. It's time for the secrets and opportunities offered by Hillary to be made available to all and for the benefit of all. Now gentlemen," he put emphasis on the word and as he did so clearly spied the Chancellor, "and ladies, is the time." Finally, he released the Chairman's shoulders and returned to his seat.

  The Canadian Prime Minister, clearly rattled, perhaps undiplomatically removed a handkerchief and wiped down his shoulder pads before proceeding.

  "Well . . . we have had the discussion document since last evening and the formal proposal is tabled before you. The floor is open for discussion. I understand the New Zealand Prime Minister would like to speak and perhaps that might be a good way to kick things off. Prime Minister Jarvis, I hand over to you."

  Bob Jarvis leaned forward, a picture of calm. What a change Regan thought from her security camera view, In four years he has gone from a first term PM to a man of genuine gravitas, a respected international leader.

  "Thank you John," he sounded warm, comfortable in his position and he smiled as he looked around the room. "I join with the President in congratulating Regan Stein for her achievements. She has truly opened up a gateway to the stars. Who would have thought it possible only a few years ago that we would make such progress so quickly. It would be all too easy to attribute this progress more to the visit of our Dahlian friend than the work of any other however I have had the privilege of discussing this with him personally. Make no mistake; Marin is in no doubt as to the force that is Regan Stein. That he is here and that she returned with technology the envy of many is a result achieved by her efforts and personal risk. It is not the charity of distant neighbors that she profits from at others expense. Further Marin points out that already she and her team are building on this technology and improving it, something that will be of benefit to his world as well as ours." He paused, clearly choosing his next words carefully. "President Johnston, with respect, in your introduction you called for the secrets and opportunities offered by Hillary Station to be made available to all and for the benefit of all. You spoke of the good of the world, ongoing wellbeing, all humanity benefitting. You implied this bounty might become the preserve of just a few. Sir, I fail to see how your proposal will in any way improve on the situation as it now stands. The huge gains you speak of have been made and continue to be made under the inspired leadership of a private corporation showing generosity of spirit that could put many to shame. You speak of the world sir. You may not be aware that as at today twenty seven nations are represented on Hillary with ten more soon to establish research missions there. Those nations include many on this council today such as major partners, Japan, India, Australia, Canada, the African and South American coalitions. Collectively they represent more than half the world's population. Of the other half, only The United States, Russian and Chinese Governments have so far chosen not to participate although I understand the invitation remains always open. It should also be noted that private corporations from all of your countries are active on Hillary station as we speak and work together well. Sir, the 'world' has no need of this committee's assistance sharing in this bounty. They already are." He paused to nods of approval from around the table, some more circumspect than others.

  "The member has failed to see the point of our proposal . . . with respect." The Russian President drew out the last word pointedly, glaring at Jarvis as he did so. "This is the Security Council after all." He gestured expansively with his hands and smiled disingenuously. "Clearly Stein has, how do you say, prodded the beast. It is time," he continued, dismissing all previous arguments, "time that those with knowledge of such matters take control, for the good of all you understand, this is self evident."

  "Not to me," Bob Jarvis interjected, "and I think possibly not to others around this table. Private companies, not just STEIN are taking a lead here and doing a damn fine job of it. The last thing this project needs is controlling beurocracy."

  "Security!" The Russian leader thumped his fist to the table. ". . . This is about security!"

  Jarvis remained calm, almost soothing as he replied. "Oh please, this is about control. She has it and you want it. If there is anything self evident it is that your Governments have been invited to participate fully but chosen not to. Why, because you're not prepared to unless it's on your own terms. Regan won't allow military or spies on station and you won't agree to leave them out."

  "It's not as simple as that Bob." The US President was conciliatory but unmoved. "Most of our senior pilots and astronauts are military simply because that's the way they've been trained. It's the same for the Russians and the Chinese. It could be argued that Regan's demands are a convenient way of keeping us out."

  Jarvis turned to him. "Cliff, you know that isn't true. She's even offered to put all their resources at your disposal to establish your own base in orbit. Regan wants you there and she's delighted to be in partnership with USDynamics but, she won't entertain any nation's military presence, or spying on Hillary Station. Is that too much to ask?"

  The Canadian PM stepped in. "I think we should get some insight on how the Committee feels with regard to the proposal. Shall we take a show of hands on whether to refer it to a later meeting or vote this session?"

  "Nyet!" Sokolov, sensing the mood in the room stood suddenly. "I exercise veto; we withdraw support for the proposal. There will be no vote."

  The US Secretary General exchanged concerned looks with the President. Clifford Johnston looked ashen.

  "Perhaps it's time for a break?" The Chair made the suggestion quickly as the Russian Representatives were already departing the room. They were followed closely by the Chinese.

  The room cleared quickly, a number of the gathered leaders taking time to shake Bob Jarvis hand and request later meeting time. He was under no illusions about his own importance. Their interest was in Hillary Station, favors' in space, and possible contacts with these latest rock stars, Marin and Regan. It was a cross he bore happily. Gathering his papers he hardly noticed the young man approach from behind. He slipped a note into Jarvis hand, a request from the President, a meeting, now. Quickly he pulled himself together and followed the junior official to a side room off the main conference hall. Inside, waiting for him were Cliff Johnston and Secretary of State Anne Marshall, the only person, man or woman to be invited to hold that role in consecutive governments under different administrations. Without a word they all took seats and looked at each other. Appropriately it was the President who spoke first.

  "We're good Bob, don't worry. Anne's been good counsel on this but you need to understand, and I'd appreciate it if you'd pass it on, we're in a difficult position here. I meant what I said when I pointed out most of our top prospects for Hillary come from military or ex military. I'd like to work something out that works for both of us but I also understand what any compromise might set as a precedent. If you can do anything to get some movement from her it would mean a lot."

  "I hear you Cliff and I'll talk to her but I can't promise anything. I'm more concerned about the Russians, he looked seriously pissed."

  "Oh, he'll get over it. Sokolov hates appearing to be begging on anything. I think he just decided on his own that they'd go it alone. They have their manned mission to the moon due there any day. If it comes off they'll establish a base there. Don't be surprised if they claim it as sovereign territory. No, we need to move forward and we want to do it with Stein. Their partnership with USDynamics is too impor
tant to us and we don't forget out friends."

  "Not if we can help it anyway." Anne Marshall added the comment sheepishly, a clear reference to the earlier James Walker fiasco.

  Jarvis was conciliatory. He didn't like grandstanding and definitely didn't want to get offside with such important friends. "That's history Anne, don't worry about it, but it's worth remembering that Regan never lost faith then either. This stand isn't personal, but it is principled and she knows principles don't always make you right. I'll see what I can do."

  They stood and shook hands. Bob hesitated respectfully, watching them leave as the young assistant guided them from the room.

  Entering the main foyer he spied Regan stretched out by the windows. She stirred as he walked over. Not for the first time he stared, reflecting on her stunning looks, and then castigated himself.

  She saw right through him. "Don't beat yourself up Bob," and she smiled, breaking the tension.

  God was I that obvious! He blushed, and then joined her on the seat, perching on the edge so that he could look at her as they talked. "Sorry to drag you all this way. It seems you won't be needed after all. The Russians had a hissy fit and left. There are still some things I'd like to discuss with you, but perhaps when we're at home?" Why does she make me feel like a schoolboy!

  "No problem, it was very . . . enlightening shall we say. I'll head back to Hillary; I could give you a lift if you like?" She stood, effortlessly.

  "No, no, thank you, there are more meetings this evening." He found himself almost stammering.

  She smiled again, disarmingly. "I'll be off then, and Bob, thank you, you were magnificent."

  To his embarrassment he blushed again, speechless for a moment and then turned to walk away. Suddenly he stopped, wondering, how . . . ? He turned back, "Regan?"

  But she was gone.

  * * *

  Base Camp Wairarapa was abuzz with excitement. A new flight of ADF's rested on the tarmac, thirty six of the delta drones all fitted out and ready for the Wellington Air Show in two days. A huge shuttle, Sherpa Tenzing, first in the Sherpa fleet sat almost fully laden and due for takeoff in an hour. But more importantly word had spread quickly that Regan was stopping in on the way back to Hillary Station. Most in the small crowd gathered at the empty pad had never seen the legend, except on screen. Hillary Station had consumed most of her time for the last two years and when on terra firma understandably she headed for home, Riverside in the Hutt Valley. The small black dot swinging in on a curving path from the southwest hardly would have drawn attention if they had not known it was due. The Interceptor came in slow and silent, well under the sound barrier drifting resistance free through the strong wind that had picked up during the day. A small pocket of protestors began chanting as the craft came to a hovering halt, banners appearing from nowhere and eggs raining down on the black surface.

  It was a disturbing welcome and one that was becoming all to frequent. "What's the problem Ham and who are these people?" Regan watched arguments developing between supporters and protestors as she prepared to disembark. "Shit I was only planning on a short stop. What a welcoming committee!"

  "Well at least you know you're not completely disregarded . . . will you look at those ADF's!" Ham's disinterest was obvious, joyriding the little fighters far exceeding any concern over a few eggs he would beat off through the atmosphere.

  Regan concentrated for a moment, searching for the answer on line. Quickly it was there, news reports already covering the event. Aaah, the moon graffiti objectors, all rabidly opposed to her new 'Ring on the moon'. It wasn't something she had considered when choosing the position of Hillary Station. The Lagrange L1 point, balanced between Earth and Moon was a natural fit for her plans. That it would forever place a new image on the moon's surface from Earth's perspective didn't occur to her. God, she thought, what will they think when they see the finished orbital? Those plans resided in her and Ham's minds alone and there they would stay for the moment.

  The rear doors slid open and she stepped out onto the tarmac. At the sight of her the volume of cheers and catcalls increased substantially and she made her way carefully forward, shaking hands, greeting the few familiar faces trying to make progress through to Hayden and Jenny Joyce. She could see them on the building steps and he looked excited, she looked nervous. Regan smiled, first time in space for her, not quite, but almost a senior, I wonder what she's thinking? Mom will be so glad to have her there.

  She pressed forward, eyes on the pair, struggling against the weight of bodies. The pressure seemed inappropriately forceful, her instincts screaming to her, something's wrong! And then she felt the blow, a painful jab to the stomach, sharp, delivered with full body weight behind it. Unable to penetrate the suit it was enough to drop her to her knees with in agony. [Ham!] Regan cried out silently and the field instantly snatched her, the sight of a large hand coming down on the head of her assailant triggering her last images. The head seemed to squat down on the shoulders with the force of the blow and at the same time, although out of her vision, it appeared some shove had propelled the body forward leaving the head behind. As she materialized in the Interceptor she knew the attacker would be dead.

  Already she was communicating. [The big guy Ham, get him out of there] She was still on her knees, wiping tears from her face and rubbing the bruised rib as the form appeared beside her.

  Ignoring the man for a moment she glanced up. Looking back through the screen she could see Hayden, ushering Jenny back through the doors, both shocked and alarmed. Things had turned ugly quickly and the protestors found themselves retreating from a hail of vitriol and rubbish. There was no sign of a body under the swirling crowd. She sank back into a cockpit chair and turned to her startled guest. He wasn't as tall as she had anticipated, but broad, powerful, Maori she guessed.

  [Did you see that fist come down? It was like a sledge hammer! That guy was shorter by an inch before he dropped, wow!]

  Regan ignored Hams commentary and tried to put the visitor at ease. He was controlled, taking in his surroundings, all contained aggression. "Thank you my friend," and for the moment she followed her instincts, ignoring any possible threat from the man, "He didn't penetrate my suit with that knife but one more slash at my neck and it could have been curtains." She extended her hand, "I'm Regan by the way."

  "Fuck," He shook her hand as he looked around, "how did I get in here?" He seemed unnaturally calm considering his experience.

  She considered how to answer. "Just a little secret tech I trust you will be discreet . . ." She hesitated, leaning forward hoping the man would fill in the gap.

  "Brian." He said," Just call me Brian."

  "Brian?" She sounded surprised.

  "What, you don't like Brian's?"

  "No, no, it's not that, I just kinda expected another name, like Manu, or Tane, or Piri, or . . ."

  Ham couldn't bear it. [Keep digging sister, you're doing great]

  The man intervened. "It's Brian, as in, The Life Of . . . , I like it. Now, how do I get out of here?"

  "Brian, I don't think that's going to be wise at the moment. Ham . . . what's the status of the protestor please?"

  "He's dead, and by the look of that blow he'll need only a very small coffin. Regan I've modified all the recorded visuals to remove Brian's blow, but there were witnesses. There may still be trouble."

  "What were you doing there Brian?" She asked.

  "I work there, new, I'm on security, just doing my job." He looked around the control room, alert, and poised. "Where's this other guy you're talking to?"

  "All in good time Brian, indulge me for a moment, I really am thinking of you. Are you married, have a partner, kids?" She tried to look compassionate. It didn't work.

  "No, and I'm not interested if that's what you're thinking."

  "Brian, relax, it's not that, it's just sometimes, times like this for example, even when you've done the right thing you can end up in a power of shit. And this could be the mother lode! You say
you're new?"

  "I'm just back from the Middle East, SAS. This was my first job."

  She smiled. "Brian, I have a proposition for you, it's in security too and double your pay here. You could think of it as a transfer, what you might call an out of this world opportunity."

  He smiled, like a happy assassin. "Double my pay . . . Seriously?" He looked around as if it must be a joke . . . but he didn't hesitate. "I'm in." And he immediately walked over to the small galley area. "Can you get coffee here?"

  Regan watched him, still massaging her side [Ham, we'd better let Hayden know we have another passenger and that we'll pick them up from the roof in fifteen minutes. We can't leave Hayden; he takes over at Hillary tomorrow. Perhaps put those writing skills to the test too and compose a short PR release for the staff. Let them know I'm Ok and will definitely be back soon to say hello.] [Oh, and in case he worries message Kev' to let him know all is well, he'll worry when he hears what happened]

  [Is that it? You're sure there's nothing else on your list?]

  [Actually, there is. See if he can pull our business meeting forward to tomorrow, at their place. I'll be staying at Riverside]