Regan's Reach 2: Orbital Envy

by Mark G Brewer

  "So I guess we just wait, you'll contact us if you hear anything won't you?"

  "You know we would Cliff, what about news from The Step? Do they know anything?"

  "Bottom line Bob is that we're only just getting established there. It's great to have a share of the platform but developing it is a huge undertaking, even with help. No, at this stage we need Hillary Station for everything. They're still the communications hub."

  "What about the Russians?"

  "Concerned looks and not much else, they're stonewalling us. Sokolov still looks like the cat that got the cream. I doubt he even cares about the chaos going on." They could see, even on screen that Johnston was struggling with something else he wanted to say. Finally he was rescued by Anne Marshall.

  "Bob, The President doesn't want to ask this, neither do I, but can you tell us, Has Regan considered, you know, trusting this to the courts either here or in Coran?"

  Jarvis sucked in a big breath. "It's the obvious question isn't it so I don't blame you for asking. The bottom line for me is that I trust her word. Regan believes this business with her is just a personal vendetta, nothing more so if she did go back there she'd be dead. She would still do that if she felt it would save us but she doesn't. The vendetta is a side show. The Coran's are scouting for a new mineral rich system and they like ours for a new colony. Her feeling is that either her team deals with it now or we deal with it on our own later. In other words it'll still happen sometime. Which would you prefer?"

  Johnston looked thoughtful, and resigned. "With the technology the Coran's have I guess it's a no brainer. If STEIN can't deal with it now we're stuffed anyway. Space will be out for us for generations, if ever, and the best we can hope for is some costly Gorilla war on the ground. It doesn't bare thinking about."

  An air of resignation settled on both rooms. "I'll call you as soon as we know something Cliff; they may even call you direct."

  "Take care there." The screen blanked.

  Jarvis stood and stretched. No one spoke for several minutes then as if by mutual agreement they moved to the drinks cabinet. They were too wired to keep talking.

  * * *

  Leah guided Regan to her room. She was inconsolable and for an hour Leah just lay with her until exhaustion took over and Regan fell into a deep sleep.

  Slipping away Leah returned to control.

  "Ham . . . what happened?" She hugged herself nervously.

  "Stephanie's dead Leah. They arrived in Dahlia and as we know, but they didn't, Beria and the Coran's were in charge. They were ambushed on arrival. Stephanie was shot on sight, they probably thought it was Regan. Marin couldn't do anything."

  "Can you show me?"

  "It isn't pretty."

  "I think I've probably seen worse. I know Regan's seen it, I want to understand."

  The view from the Transport was from behind. She could tell Marin was uneasy as they walked toward doors on the orbital flight deck. Something about the man with them unsettled him. But then it all seemed to happen so fast. The doors opening and the blast were almost simultaneous. There was no time for them to register the weapon, Steph was already dying. Marin was hit from behind in a sucker tackle and driven into the lift. She could see him struggling, ripping at the gunman's legs as the doors closed. Steph' seemed startled. She looked down at her stomach at the hole which was evident even from behind and then she crumpled to the deck. The flash as Ham snatched her was so quick she must have hardly landed and then the screen went blank. The next view was of Stephanie on the Control floor. She was clearly dead.

  Leah sat for a while processing the horror. For a moment her thoughts were quite personal. It had only been weeks and life had lurched from one crisis to another. She felt like a different person, shell shocked, weary. But quickly her concern switched back to Regan, and Marin, and Ham.

  "How are you feeling about this Ham, it must be difficult for you too?"

  "I feel . . . guilty. I had a difference, with Stephanie, on the way over. I don't think I was as concerned, watchful, or as alert as I should have been. All the signs were there, Dahlia was gone, and I shouldn't have let them go in like that."

  "Would they have listened?"

  "Probably not, it is Marin's home orbital after all. Honestly, an attack like that is unheard of there. But still, we argued, she's dead; we didn't really put it right."

  "Ham, I feel for you. I had an experience like that with my parents, and it cuts you up. You can't do anything about it. So I can understand how you feel and all I can say is something Regan mentioned to me the other day. This pain, well, it too will pass."

  She stood up to leave. "Ham, I'm going back down to Regan. I hate to say this to you now and forgive me please if I sound like a heartless bitch. But we're in the biggest shit storm of our lives right now and we need you on your game. There's no one else who can hold this together like you. Leave things on Station to Hilary and look after us out there. I'm sorry to put it on you. All I can offer is if you'd like to talk, anytime, just buzz me." She walked from the room. He didn't reply.

  At that same moment in a strange phenomenon, all one hundred and fifty ADF's, fifty over Wellington, fifty over Hawaii and the flight surrounding the Coran vessel shifted, exactly one meter to the right. It was the equivalent of a soldier shifting weight from one foot to the other. The behemoth watchers moved a meter nearer their subject at the same time. Ham was in the game.

  * * *

  "What are they doing Terrin?"

  "Watching and waiting sir, as they have since arrival." She was brusque and didn't look up. Merryl ignored her attitude and brushed by on his way to the flight deck.

  Terrin paused a moment to gather her thoughts then continued tapping the keys, making final adjustments for the new attack times. Programming the smart missiles would have been a breeze if Merryl would only settle on what he wanted. She considered the projections on blast area and casualties and shook her head in despair. Not in several lifetimes had anyone viewed or experienced fallout from this type of action. It disturbed her that Merryl radiated an interest in using these weapons that bordered on psychopathic. His disappointment at the thousands escaping the cities was shocking, not just to her but other crew she could tell. He acted as if he was being robbed of his sport. Bringing the launch date forward and in particular hitting the Hawaii more than a day earlier than advised signaled the interest in Regan Stein was paper thin. It almost seemed he didn't want the woman at all. What were his orders, really?

  She logged out of the missile program. A discrete but nervous glance around control and she could see the few crew present were busy at their stations. Accessing Merryls files she looked long and hard at the folder marked confidential . . . this was crossing a line. With her technical security clearance she could access anything on ship, a right which to the best of her knowledge, Merryl remained unaware. She hesitated, her precious pass code finger poised over the touch screen, voice command out of the question. Holding her breath she brought the finger down, tapping the screen lightly. The folder opened like a flower. A cursory glance and the first file to catch her eye was a visual, simply marked 'Ryman'. Another touch and she could see it was a visual from the Shuttle. Bracing herself, she opened the recording. Watching from inside the airlock at Rymans panicked face, there was only a moment before the door opened and the view followed his tumbling body as it spilled out into space, a cold chill passed down her neck. A quick check showed it had been accessed forty seven times by the Commander, ten by the pilot. Bitch! All nervousness about what she was doing dissolved and Terrin scanned the many files. She hesitated at a folder designated with her own name. Opening it she could see at least thirty visual recordings and shuddered before closing it and moving on.

  A priority file caught her eye, simply marked 'Corannation'. Opening it she settled down to read the single document. They were orders. Reading slowly her tension increased with every second, the room suddenly unbearably warm. She unzipped her suit and fanned her face, findin
g it hard to believe what she was reading. Finally, she had seen enough. What do I do? Placing both hands on the desk she was suddenly rigid with stress.

  Turning her attention back to the file she quickly copied and compressed it then opened communications. Again her hand hovered, caste with fear, this time over the send command. If I send, and he finds out, which he will . . . I'm dead. Understandably her hand hesitated as she stared at command icon . . . then noticed the flashing light in the corner of the screen. A welcome distraction she tapped it and immediately a message flashed up, full screen.

  DON'T SEND. PLEASE REBOOT NOW!

  Terrin reeled back in shock, thumping the touch screen to shut it down. At the sound surprised faces turned. She was running from the room.

  * * *

  The STEIN Transport, unusually restrained in its approach nudged in from the moonward end and respectfully drifted down the pipe, the Saucer drawing looks and questions from the early watchers.

  Marin stood in control, his own nerves acute as he contemplated the next few hours. So much had happened since they left. Discovering he had almost lost Regan, finding out about the attempts on her life and the drastic actions taken to save it had been overwhelming. And now he had to bring Steph home. He would carry her in. She deserved that respect. Just as he had been brought up to date over the last twenty four hours he knew Regan would also have absorbed the truth. But what would she say? He couldn't bare the waiting.

  Early morning on the pipe and the activity he could see was already picking up. Considering all he had heard it surprised him that things seemed like business as usual. Hilary's influence no doubt. Ham had hardly communicated with him on the approach and that suited his anxious mood. He asked Ham to keep their arrival quiet, he wanted to surprise Regan. What he would say he hadn't decided. They made their final spin and slotted into place underside of THE STEIN with a clunk.

  Leah woke still wrapped around Regan and realized her friend was already awake. Propping on one elbow she leant over, gently stroking Regan's arm. "Are you ok?"

  Regan put her hand on Leah's and squeezed it. "Numb but warming . . . That's life I guess, nothing can be taken for granted, nothing and no one." She stared off into the distance, her eyes unfocused.

  "Come on Regan, things to do, places to go. Let's get you showered; you'll be in a better place to face things."

  Regan allowed herself to be guided to the bathroom and just leant on the wall as Leah activated the water. Her head draped forward she drifted in her thoughts as Leah massaged her shoulders and neck, working down her arms and breasts. She let the warmth soak into her and began to luxuriate in the feelings.

  Marin lifted the body, still cool and stiff but curled up as if sleeping. Cradling it in front of him he carried it to the lift and began the slow journey to the spare room next to his own. As he passed Regan's door he could hear the shower and gasped with tension. Laying Steph on the tidy bed, he removed the sheet wrapped around her and arranged it as best he could, leaving her face clear and surprisingly relaxed considering her last moment. He then washed his hands in the bathroom and made for Regan. Entering the room he considered how best to approach things. No sex, not even a hint, but a loving embrace yes. Show restraint. He stripped off his own suit, sniffing it and confirming the traces of Steph that made him shudder. He opened the room door and threw it outside into the corridor, then walked to the bathroom and hesitated before padding the door.

  Leah had worked her way down Regan's body and now she knelt, working her way up each leg, massaging as she washed. Neither had spoken for some time, Regan allowing herself to enjoy the attention and feeling better by the minute. As Leah's hands reached her upper left leg Regan heard the door swish open. Looking up there was Marin. She looked into his face stunned but with unconscious delight. He looked surprised. Leah still kneeling was looking straight ahead, waist height. She was the first to speak.

  "Err; hi . . . you must be Melon?"

  Regan looked down at her strangely, Leah's hands still resting on her thigh. "Leah . . . the name is Marin."

  She looked up at them both, embarrassed. "What did I say?"

  It was perfect. Regan, so relieved to see him made eye contact with Marin and they laughed. She turned and embraced her lover lifting her legs to wrap them around him. Marin looked down at Leah and smiled. "Do you mind, we're going to need a minute . . . just to talk."

  She nodded and Marin carried Regan to the next room, the door shutting behind them. Leah sat on the floor, still under the warm stream. She reached up for more soap and looked around the room. "We're going to need a bigger shower." She whispered.

  Marin carried Regan into the room and sat her on the bed. Kneeling on the floor he took her hands. "I'm so sorry Regan."

  She pulled his hands up to her chest and clutched them there. "It wasn't your fault; you have nothing to apologize for."

  "Not that," he looked down and took a breath. "I'm sorry for what I did, with Steph, I shouldn't have."

  She looked surprised. "You shouldn't be, we agreed, you've always been free."

  "But not with Steph; I was a fool. It wasn't her fault either. She misunderstood something I said. It doesn't matter now but I want you to know she never would have done anything with me if she had understood properly."

  She stroked his head. "I'm just glad your back and what shits storm you've come back to."

  He reached up and stroked his hand down the left side of her head, looking closely for any sign of damage. He shook his head in amazement. "He's a genius, but don't tell him I said that." They both smiled. There were no secrets from Ham.

  "Is she here Marin?"

  "In her room; are you sure you want to see her?"

  "Definitely, I need to say goodbye." And she stood, hauling a sheet off the bed and wrapping it round her. Marin did the same. They walked out into the corridor and he kicked his suit back into the room. They then padded Stephs door. Marin stood back and let Regan enter first. She stayed calm, sad but resigned to the truth. A night of grieving had left her empty, there was nothing left. Kneeling, she reached out and stroked a strand of hair off Stephs face. The sheet wrapped tightly around her she reached up to Marin and drew him down beside her.

  "The shooter?"

  "I killed him."

  "I know . . . I just wanted to hear you say it. Thank you." They sat there quietly, lost in their own thoughts.

  "Leah!" Hams voice intruded on her thoughts.

  Still leaning against the wall, the shower off now, her legs splayed, a slight redness to her cheeks from the afterglow and the sudsy remains of the smooth soapy substance drying around her crotch, Leah looked up in surprise.

  "Yes Ham, you know I can hear you."

  "Are you finished?"

  She smiled, "Is this what it's been like for Regan?"

  He ignored her. "Leah, you need to get up, it's time for the talk."

  "What talk?" She slowly climbed to her feet.

  "You know, the talk, the 'we need you on your game talk'. It's good, they need it now, get going."

  "Are you sure," She entered the bunk room. "Where are they?"

  "They're in the spare room, with Steph, this is the time, come on."

  She looked down at the floor and saw their suits laying there, with no sign of her own in the mess. She didn't search; walking quickly out into the corridor she passed Marin's room and saw the trail of water entering the room next door. She padded the door and walked in. They looked up startled, but clearly morose.

  "Guys, Ham sent me, I'm sorry to be the one to do this. She looked at Steph's body. I'm really sorry about your friend. It'll take a long time to get over this I know, if ever. But right now is not the time to mope. We're in a war people and everyone needs to be on their game. Call me a bitch but I have friends too, in Hawaii and they could be dead in a week. You have friends in Wellington that face the same threat in two days. What part are we going to play in it? That's what I want to know. There's no time to sit around . . . ok?"
>
  They looked back wide eyed. Leah remembered she was naked, the only naked person in the room and she looked down guiltily, the evidence of her recent attentions still smeared around her middle. "Right then . . . that said, I'll leave you to wind up here." she slipped out of the room.

  Marin looked sideways at Regan. "She's a ballsy little thing isn't she?"

  "You've got to admit, she's got what she needs," she smiled and winked. "Without her, and Ham, I wouldn't be here Marin and she's right, we'll revisit this, but we've got no time to dwell on it now. Everyone needs to be on deck."

  She stood, resting a hand on Steph's head for a final time. She then pulled Marin up and they left the room without looking back. As the door closed the temperature dropped suddenly, the body immediately enclosed in a blue gel like field.

  * * *

  "Terrin!" At the bark she jumped, so on edge now it was becoming suspicious. Calming herself she turned to see Merryl had taken his command chair.

  "Are you sleeping?" He glared across the room.

  She had just been staring at a blank screen, terrified to activate it in case the message was still there. "No sir, just reviewing things in my mind, we have had quite a few changes. I want to make sure we get things right."

  "You have another adjustment to make, another six hours earlier. Bring both forward and ensure they are primed for the same time. We want to make an impact."

  "Yes sir." She didn't look at him, scared he would notice her distress. Touching the power button the screen lit up instantly. Her sigh of relief at the blank view drew another glare from Merryl then she almost bit through her tongue at the flashing light still there at the corner. Cursing inwardly she ignored it bringing up the missile programming instead. The bombers would deliver the cargo to within twenty kilometers and then drop them to do their work. After ignition her programming would carry them to target. It was a simple matter now to make adjustments although she hid that from Merryl. The more complicated he thought it was the safer her position. As she worked the Commanders secret orders haunted her and the several hundred Russian warheads loaded over the last week took on fresh horror status. So stressed she could hardly think she tried blotting everything out, letting her hands work on autopilot. Still the flashing light kept calling to her. Her hands poised over the keys and she hesitated considering the final inputs. Then a calm certainty came over her, about responsibility as a Coran. She considered only for a moment more, tapped in the changes with renewed confidence and saved them; missile changes locked. Job done she glanced down at the flashing light. With one hand poised over the power button she used the other to tap the icon. It flashed up quickly, the message the same. Before she had time to think she shut down the screen.