Hilary's voice joined the conversation. "I'll have rooms prepared for you and advise Regan you need to speak with her in the morning."
They continued their rapid climb through the atmosphere, Ham switching the screen to the forward view. They could see a craft ahead of them rapidly growing bigger in their vision.
"Ham, what are you doing?"
"I thought you might like a look at their vessel, I mean . . . what can they do to us?"
They passed Merryl's shuttle as if it was standing still and continued on rocketing through the outer atmosphere. In minutes through the screen they could see the warship in the distance, appearing tiny with nothing to compare. But soon they could appreciate its immense size. As they drifted along one face of the behemoth both men were in awe, oblivious to the alarms sounding inside the Coran vessel.
"Shit, I hope we don't have to fight." Steve muttered it under his breath.
"You shouldn't be too impressed," Ham was dismissive, "It's the fight in the dog that counts."
As the Pod flashed passed the Coran shuttle its superior speed only added to the apoplectic rage of the Commander, Ryman's running debrief of the hearing having already pushed him to the brink of explosion.
Unwisely Ryman continued. "It was possibly a mistake to give credit to the AI's integrity."
Merryl finally screamed. "You shit . . ." A glare at the alarmed flight crew and they fixed their eyes forward. Merryl stood and clubbed Ryman with the back of his hand knocking him to the floor. Dragging him to the airlock he punched it open, throwing the body through. He then shut the door and without hesitation opened the lock to space. Still fuming he walked forward in the shuttle, placing a hand on each shoulder, one on the pilot the other on the navigator. He squeezed painfully.
"An unfortunate accident on departure Commander . . ." The pilot spoke first.
"Exactly," Merryl replied his voice full of malice, "Accidents happen to the foolish."
"It shall not be spoken of again sir."
The atmosphere in the cabin remained cool as they made a shaky approach into the flight deck. Without another word Merryl exited the craft and stormed toward the lift. The two flight crew remained seated for some time, still shaking.
"We're dead," said the navigator.
"Not if you stay silent. He looks after those he trusts." Neither woman sounded confident.
True to form, he found Terrin waiting as the doors opened. Merryl eyed her suspiciously as he walked toward her.
"Commander," she bowed her head. "Ryman is not with you?"
"Ryman will not be returning. He had . . . an accident on departure." Merryl deliberately put hesitation in the words then walked on without further comment. He knew officer Terrin. There would be no concern for the idiot Ryman. She would be anticipating promotion he was sure. We will see. Waiting until the last second before entering control he turned back. Sure enough she was still standing there, clearly exultant. "Terrin, I will make my report, and then you will meet me in my quarters. I will summon you when I'm ready."
She watched as he disappeared through the door. No hint there . . . what does that mean?
The summons came to her in her room. More nervous than ever Terrin made her way to Merryls cabin, rehearsing different scenarios, approaches, attitudes of mind. He didn't acknowledge her as she entered and the room seemed filled with his radiating tension.
He stood slowly and turned. Stepping forward, seething he reached up with both hands gripping each side of her suit and ripped it apart at the seam, tearing it roughly from her body. Throwing her back on the bed he quickly freed himself and roughly mounted her, more force than passion as she twisted her head to the side. As he thrust painfully she tried to remain calm, until she felt his hands clasp around her neck and begin to squeeze.
He paused, slowing his thrusts, and glared at her, eye to terrified eye. "Now listen to me Terrin, listen very carefully." He stopped, still gripping her, resting his full weight on her much smaller body. "Have you been telling me the truth? Have you been telling me everything?"
Unable to breathe or speak, she jerked her head, desperate now, trying to nod. He released the pressure of his hands slightly and she gasped for breath, tears welling in her eyes. "Yes . . ." she coughed, rasping "Yes, you know all I know . . . Merryl, what has happened?"
He considered for a moment and then released her, rolled to the side staring at the ceiling, his breath labored, still seething with frustration and anger. "The AI, from Dahlia, the New Coran Protectorate, it was here, we brought it to this system." He swung back over her, threatening. "How . . . is . . . that . . . possible?"
Still trying to regain her breath, she struggled and desperately appealed to him. "Commander, please, I can't speak properly like this."
Merryl swung off the bunk, pulled his suit back up to the waist and crossed to sit, straddling his chair near the desk. Terrin sat disheveled on the edge of the bunk, still panicked at his look. He seemed crazed.
"Talk to me Terrin, I am this close," and he gestured, pinching his fingers together. The message was clear.
What happened to Ryman? "Tell me about the AI?" She asked.
He glared at her suspiciously. "The AI spoke at the hearing . . . AS AN INDIVIDUAL!" He bellowed the words. "It said it came here on my ship."
Rapidly regaining her composure Terrin deliberately didn't cover herself, she leant forward, thinking.
"SPEAK . . . TO . . . ME Terrin, or so help me . . ." he tailed off, frustrated.
"Commander, the AI, they were going to wipe and replace it on the orbital. Somehow it must have stored itself on ship. This was before my posting. Sir, I don't wish to hide, but this is not something for which I am responsible."
Merryl stood and clenching his fists screamed with rage. He thumped the wall. "We cannot risk battle." He started pacing. "They give me one pitiful warship. They send me with pitiful armament, twelve pitiful missiles against an enemy that has already destroyed two of our best . . . and now this!"
She could sense him deflating, the swing into depression. She risked moving to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Commander . . . the Russians have hundreds of nuclear missiles."
He stilled, seeming almost to fall into a trance. She didn't dare speak. She who speaks first loses.
Calm seemed to come over him and he looked down into her eyes. "Terrin . . . you have given me hope."
"That is my privilege sir." Stoking her hands lightly down his body she dropped to her knees and pulled down his suit. He reached forward, clasping her head, leaned back on the desk and closed his eyes.
Relief flooding through her, Terrin considered her position as she worked. What can I do now? Another day . . . live to fight another day.
* * *
On Hillary the assembled group made full use of the large dining area in the Stein Compound. Marcus, Steve, Kevin and Mary, Regan, Leah and Jean had enjoyed a magnificent meal provided by Station Chefs. For the first time in months they had laughed and talked with abandon, the feeling in the room one of victory and celebration. It felt good. Marcus didn't spoil the mood although he sensed this was far from over.
Late in the station evening the group began to break up, each returning to their respective rooms. Jean, Regan and Leah sat talking, the last on the lounge couch. They finished their wine.
"We'll head back to The STEIN tonight mom." Regan said, standing.
"You can do it here you know, you're both adults, and I'm not bothered." Jean looked up at her smiling.
"Mom, we're not doing anything, what's wrong with you?"
Leah looked embarrassed, but nevertheless stood and joined Regan.
"Of course dear, I'm just saying . . ." Jean stood and hugged her daughter then Leah.
Leaving the compound they both walked silently up to centre pipe. No words were spoken as Ham displaced them across, nor as they walked to Regan's room in unspoken understanding. They shed their suits in silence and walked naked into the bathroom.
"You first tonight?" Leah gently pushed her forward.
"Oh yes!" Regan padded the water and then positioned herself under the stream, Leah standing behind her. She leaned forward on the wall with both hands, legs apart and sighed as Leah started from the top of her head, soaping, rinsing, massaging, slowly working down her shoulders, leaning against and embracing Regan as she reached around to wash her breasts and stomach. Regan surrendered to the feelings as Leah used both hands on each leg in turn, working from foot to the thigh and then couldn't help a groan escaping as she felt the anticipated hand reach through from behind to cup her sex. God this is better than massage she thought.
* * *
She looked down at the little girl beside her, holding her hand. Standing together there on the rocks, an island in the centre of the river, she could feel a firm warm breeze on her face and the girl laughed with her as they leant into it. The sound of water on the stones soothed her thoughts and she closed her eyes for a moment. A sense of the winds support came to her and she leant forward, looking sideways to see the girl, smiling doing the same. Eyes locked, as if testing the other they began to laugh as a tipping point came close, the force of the warm wind still holding them. Then suddenly, they were lifting, riding on the wind, hovering there for a moment before, emboldened, they leaned further into the breeze and soared away together. In moments they were above the valley, still laughing as they climbed toward the warm sun and then curled away in laughing embrace.
Waking, happier than she had felt for a long time, she lay there in the warmth recalling the dream. Then, hoping to recapture the experience she allowed herself to drift back into sleep.
* * *
Chapter Six
For two weeks shuttles circulated constantly between the Coran vessel and Russia, carrying crew on shore leave desperate to experience the soil under their feet. Restricted to the tourist areas of Lake Baikal in Siberia and Sochi on the Black sea their presence nevertheless attracted worldwide interest. Invitations from other nations including the US were all politely rebuffed by the Russian leadership and the Coran warship continued to ignore all communications other than from their hosts in Moscow. In Washington daily updates kept the President in touch with developments but without support from the Russians there was little to report. NATO remained on full alert and nervous national leaders desperately exchanged calls trying to determine who best to side with if the proverbial hit the fan. Russia didn't even bother to attend the most recent emergency meeting of the Security Council. They were busy, and the world held its breath.
Any personal meeting between a Russian President and three Supreme Court Judges, currently presiding over a case with national implications was a little unusual, even inappropriate, but this is Russia mused Judge Turgenev, and what the little president wants, he gets. He focused back on the monologue as Sokolov repeated his 'key' point for the third time. The message was clear. Forget legal technicalities on jurisdiction. The woman must go to trial. Turgenev sucked in his ample stomach, uncomfortable on the hard seating, desperate to toilet and stretch. I am too old for this.
"Mr. President," He interrupted, "We are Judges of the Supreme Court. We consider matters of law and our whole justice system will be judged on the quality of our rulings. We must act on the evidence alone. It has been established that the testimony of the AI's is beyond question. On that testimony, if it is correct, The Coran jurisdiction is questionable and our own holds no weight whatsoever. In addition the woman Regan Stein has been pardoned. There is no basis for this case to proceed."
Sokolov stood sharply with the sort of intent that signaled given a weapon he would happily dispatch the Senior Judge on the spot.
Before he could speak Judge Rudin leant forward. "Mr. President if I may, there is a saying, 'out of the mouths of two or more witnesses'. It seems the only witness to Ms Steins pardon, is the AI Ham. Might it not be prudent to confirm the pardon with the Regent himself, this. . . Marin? If it were not possible to confirm the AI testimony, it might be appropriate to test the case in court."
Sokolov turned quickly to his Prime Minister. "Vasily, your thoughts?"
"It could be useful Andrei. This Marin has not been seen on any media for months. Intelligence does suggest he is out of this system."
Sokolov turned to Turgenev. "Then it is decided. Draft the ruling and dispatch it immediately. If the testimony of pardon cannot be confirmed by this, Marin, then the case goes to trial in urgency." He paused taking the measure of the Senior Judge. "And Turgenev, you have much at stake here, do not disappoint me. You are dismissed."
The three Judges rose stiffly from their chairs, Rubin, the younger making the doors first and holding them for his colleagues. Turgenev scowled quietly as he passed him. "Dance with the devil and you risk losing your foot."
Behind them Sokolov pulled Popov down for a whispered conversation. "Vasily, this is stalling. Stein has shown she will not honor any decision of our courts and the bitch has taken the people with her. We cannot let Hillary Station be lost to us. The visitors will surely target it. Plan B Vasily," He gripped the other mans jacket. "We need leverage against her. We need another target for them, for the Coran's."
* * *
On Hillary Regan and Leah worked themselves to exhaustion in the large new gymnasium just opened on the third level moonward end. Already the area was busy with men and women of all nationalities pounding the treadmills, pumping iron or performing acrobatics in the padded gravity free flying space. It seemed an indulgence using Grav plates to counter the effects of spin on this level but already it was obvious this would rank high as most popular recreation space on the pipe. Jared spent his time there as they worked out, Regan monitoring him constantly as he tumbled, delighting at his chatter with Ham. I wonder if that's what it was like for Marin she thought.
Not quite ready but soon to be opened was the outer ring track. A three point three km run around the outer hull with nothing but one meter diamond glass between the track and vacuum was an experience many were eager to try. The views would be spectacular.
Despite the numbers present in the room, it seemed most avoided the pair as they worked. Looks and smiles were warm but it was as if lines were drawn around them and no one had the courage to venture in. Even Rod and Minjee chose to work out at the other side of the Gym. Regan determined to train there more often. I might not be able to know everyone but I want them to know, they can get to know me.
She towelled off, waiting for Leah to finish her set. [Jared, Ham, I'm going to try the showers. You should too Jared. Dinner in an hour] It was unconscious now, the programming established. She subbed, he heard, wherever he was on Hillary or the Stein. And all he had to do was call; her system would recognize him and respond. Apart from Jared only Leah was fully aware of the ability and she too would talk to Regan from anywhere, her own earpiece connecting them twenty four seven.
Walking through to the showers Leah glanced across at Regan. Noticing her distant expression she misinterpreted the look. "Do you miss him?"
Regan hesitated a moment, wondering at her meaning. "Marin? . . . Yeah, I miss him. I didn't realize how much I would," she continued walking, "and I miss Steph too, you'll like her."
"We need a man." It was a sudden statement, unusual from Leah, and out of the blue.
I have a man . . . I think. "Leah, no one needs a man, or a woman." She said it defensively. "We need relationships, companionship, understanding, friendship, loyalty, partnership, god a host of things and yeah, sure, it's great to be satisfied, but our needs are more than physical I reckon." They stripped away their gear.
"You may be right but, as they say, 'me thinks you protest too much'. Do you wonder what will happen when he comes back?"
With Steph? . . . Yes. Regan stopped and sat on the new bench, looking off into space for a moment, her thoughts crystallizing. "I want him to be happy. If I can be a part of that, it will make me happy too." She looked up at Leah. "I mean this, I'm lucky enough to have good friends wh
o fulfill me in every way."
"I don't think luck has anything to do with it." Leah smiled and started toward a shower.
"Leah, I want you to know . . . for me, nothing is going to change what we have here. Not Steph or Marin. I'd like to think when they come back we'll all be in the mix, great friends, needs met. Maybe I'm unrealistic, but that's what I'd like to try for."
They took adjoining showers in the communal area, everything just as she liked it, torrents of hot water, real soap, towels and mirrors. I'm going to like this place. Thoughts now tumbled unbidden around her head. Marin, Marin . . . What are you up to?
* * *
Hilary had time on her processors. The pipe's expansion to full axel status had made huge progress and already she had orders placed for first stage spoke development. Prioritizing completion of the gym was a small contribution to the obvious needs she saw on station. Humans needed to socialize and while she could see countless couplings and budding intimate friendships there were also fomenting jealousies, loneliness and for some downright frustration. She understood the need to complete the priority spaces first, flight decks, manufacturing, laboratories, research rooms, accommodation. The fundamentals went on and on. But she could see it was high time to satisfy the emotional needs on a larger scale, especially if they were going to grow into the Orbital she now envisaged. She scheduled processor time with Regan's 'left' for later that day. They could discuss it then.
For now her current project was far more interesting. An interest that proved so engrossing she wondered if she had some infection, something caught from Ham, or somewhere else. Hilary was on the hunt, for a mole, a traitor and the race was on. Would she get there first? It shocked her how the thrill of the chase could be so satisfying. For a responsible logical thinker this was something completely new. It was fun. More shocking was the thought lingering in the background, the one she knew was there but refused to give time to . . . for the moment. When I catch the bastard, what am I going to do with them?
Regan's Reach 2: Orbital Envy Page 22
