Regan's Reach 2: Orbital Envy

by Mark G Brewer

  [Actually] Hilary was casually dismissive [we just stepped aside; A tricky displacement. I'm going to call it, 'The Lucy']

  [I'm sorry, the what?]

  [The Lucy . . . Ham was so right. There is so much to learn from your data . . . The Lucy, it's from one of your cartoons] The gracious woman shook her head and brought one hand to her mouth trying to contain her laughter [Lucy . . . she pulls the oval ball thingy away when the Charlie boy tries to kick it, it's very funny. A bit nasty too I know but you understand, orbital to protect, lives to save, that kind of thing]

  Regan shook her head and smiled to herself. This is going to work out juuust fine.

  [Incoming message from the ship] Hilary announced.

  It was a familiar voice, unexpected and wonderful to hear, just two words.

  "STRIIIIIIKE ONE!"

  * * *

  Chapter Eight

  Slowing rapidly and still turning the huge ship carved though thin moon atmosphere sucking dust behind it in a massive swirling storm. It then continued on its path, scything out into space. Even at the speeds this ship could manage it would be a day at least before return.

  Lights came on throughout the vessel, as if someone were turning a dimmer switch with slow deliberate intention. Air systems hummed into life, temperature rapidly adjusting to normal and heart rates, of their own accord, beginning to settle. But not, the heart rate of Commander Merryl. Leaning on Terrin's chair for support his heart was racing. Looking down at her battered body he first seemed shocked, and then threw the metal pipe across the room to clatter against the wall.

  "Helm . . . do we still have manual?" He looked up at the forward screen, seeing only starscape and scowled.

  "Sir, I have nothing. The ship is out of my control."

  Merryl's eyes were still fixed on the screen, the Starscape subtly changing. They were turning. "Not out of control, someone's controlling it." It came as a whisper, to himself.

  Suddenly he barked. "SHUT EVERYTHING DOWN!"

  "Too late, was the cry?" A new voice emanated from the system . . .

  Merryl crouched, as if ducking from the ceiling. The crew turned to him with questioning looks. He returned only a blank stare, thinking desperately.

  "You have only a short time to secure Commander Merryl," The voice came again, "before all air on the ship will be withdrawn from free use." The voice commenced counting down. "Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . ." Merryl stumbled to the centre of control. "Seven . . . six . . ." Behind him a man picked up the pipe. "Five . . . Four . . ."

  A short sharp thud punched around the room and Merryl dropped to his knees before falling forward, no arms, onto his face. The man stood there, pipe hanging from his hand, the few remaining crew aghast.

  "Yes, well . . ." The voice spoke again, "That will do instead. Please take Mr. Merryl to his quarters. I will secure him there. Everyone please return to your stations, you are perfectly safe, provided you cause no trouble. I highly recommend you cooperate. You are a long way from home and if you desire to return there you will consult me before any operational action. We are returning to Earth orbit where you will have the opportunity to clarify your position. Until then the ship is in my control, you need do nothing. You may call me anytime, my name is Ham."

  Merryl woke achingly. His neck felt stiff, his head wet with blood, arms wrenched and sore. He rolled off the bunk and quickly made for the door. It didn't open. Banging on the surface produced no response. Padding his communicator similarly produced nothing. He stepped to his desk, three long strides and slumped down into the chair. Reaching into the small alcove in the wall he extracted a long thin blade. Dragging it across the fabric of his suit it produced a clean cut. He rested there a moment, eyes closed, drawing in long steady breaths, calming himself. Despite this, to his embarrassment his eyes watered and he dragged a sleeve across his cheek. He rested one forearm on the desk, wrist up and brought the other hand over, blade poised . . .

  "DON'T DO IT!" The voice boomed, ridiculously loud in the room, such a shock to Merryl that he dropped the blade to the floor.

  "It's too good for you," the voice whispered, and immediately gas hissed through the system. Merryl looked up startled to the vent but already the effects were hitting him, he slid off the seat with a thud.

  * * *

  "Is it insider trading if you're sure of yourself?"

  "You're asking me?" Kevin handed him a stubby beer and sat opposite on the couch. "You're the lawyer here my friend. I take it she's cleaned up again?"

  "Cleaned up isn't the half of it. She had me buying the moment the markets crashed. Mostly strategic positions at a bargain but a few were just speculative. Honestly it is worrying. It's not like she acts on any knowledge other than that she is supremely confident she will win but her strategy is so successful someone is going to question it one day."

  "If they had any sense, they'd follow her lead." Kevin replied.

  "I do . . ." Marcus laughed, delighted.

  Kevin took on a more serious look, a cloud seeming to come over him. "On a more sombre note, are you going to speak at the memorial service?"

  Marcus paused, suddenly reflective. "Sorry for sounding so flippant, God isn't it amazing how quickly we move on? Yes, I'd like to pay my respects, just a few words . . . you?"

  "Probably," Kevin drank from the bottle, "Although I have no idea what I'll say. What a way to go."

  "Ham did say it was quick. He also said Marin broke the shooters neck." Marcus grimaced.

  "Good on him, he saved Regan the job, she might have done worse." Kevin looked over his shoulder, pointedly, "She's talking to Steph's brother now, through there." He gestured with his thumb.

  In the office Regan looked with real grief at the image on the wall. Steph's brother, Philip, a man she had never met but someone who could tweak all kinds of emotions so similar was his resemblance to Steph.

  He seemed flat. A relationship that had been close but seldom near was gone forever and any chance of spending more time with his sister had now been lost. His obvious regret about past wasted opportunities was profound.

  "I wanted her to follow her dreams," he continued sadly, "as she did for me, but, and please don't take this the wrong way; ever since her involvement with STEIN I had this feeling it wouldn't end happily. She was like a moth to the flame."

  Regan smiled. "We did get up to a lot; she was a real risk taker, a thrill seeker."

  "No," he replied sadly, "That's not what I meant . . . you, you're the flame Regan."

  She froze for a second, shocked. "Phil, I don't know what to say to that. Steph was my closest friend; she pushed me to my limits. I hope we both grew stronger through it."

  "I'm sorry Regan, I put that badly. If you risk nothing you've got nothing to lose, she certainly believed that. I just meant that of all the people she's ever talked about, you seemed to be the one who inspired her to risk the most. If you're living on the edge I guess there's always a chance of losing your balance."

  "Steph didn't lose her balance Phil; she was blown off the edge. She lived her life the way she wanted, be confident of that."

  "Please," he spoke anxiously, "Don't feel responsible, I spoke out of turn there. She loved you like a sister, if anything I was jealous. I'm glad she had you there."

  She sat silently for a moment.

  "Phil, Steph made me her executor for her will, with Marcus Jackson our Lawyer. I want you to know that she left everything to you. We'll make sure you get all her entitlements and if you'd ever like to work with us there'll always be a job for you . . . What do you do by the way?"

  "Just a struggling artist, I'm doing ok."

  "Well, you're a billionaire artist now. I'll look forward to meeting you at the memorial. My partner Ham will pick you up as arranged tomorrow."

  As she disconnected the feed her feelings were mixed. He looked astonished, speechless.

  [Are you all right?]

  [I'm ok Ham, he's hurting and there's no going back. I can understan
d how he feels]

  [You're not responsible]

  [I know, thank you for caring] She quickly changed the subject. [We're going to be busy my friend]

  [Leave all the organization to Hilary. She's got everything under control and it'll save you worrying about whether you've forgotten something]

  [When does the ship arrive?]

  [I'll be bringing it in early tomorrow; the crew will be prepped and ready for your meeting]

  [How are they taking it?]

  [They're in shock, but I'm sure some will take up your offer. Regan, stop it. You're still working. Take a break, have a drink with Kevin and Marcus, go to the gym with Leah. Anything but work today]

  She just nodded. Recover now, meetings tomorrow. That works. She walked through to the lounge to join the guys.

  She didn't stay long. Drinking wouldn't cut it, not in the afternoon. Better to work off any negative feelings in the Gym. A quick scan of the pipe and she could see Leah was already on her way up there, ready to run. Good, that's just what I need.

  [Leah] As with Jared, she subbed, Leah heard, what a system! Just the thought brought a welcome smile to her.

  "What's up babe?" Leah talked as she walked, drawing the usual strange looks.

  [Wait for me will you, a run is just what I need]

  "Hey, that's great, thought I'd be pounding round on my own. I'll wait in Antigrav."

  [See you soon]

  Regan jogged up the pipe, rehearsing what she would say to the Coran's on arrival. Life was about to change for them big time.

  Entering the Gym she could see a queue stretching out from the Antigrav room, hoots and catcalls ringing in the air. Looking past the throng, just visible she could see a single person drifting through the air toward a large target. Gently pressing past the queue she entered the room, having to squeeze in with the crowd gathered on the side watching. And there, like ringmaster at the front was Jared. What the . . .

  He was clearly directing proceedings, a larger version of his catapult/flinger being used so that two people, presumably team mates, could launch a third across the room at the target. Don't people here have enough to do! Without shutting things down she couldn't reach him through the crowd, so she subbed.

  [Jared, what are you up to there?] On hearing the voice he looked around, spying her toward the back and waving.

  "It's my competition; they try and hit the centre. If they do they get a hundred to one." His voice was almost drowned by the crowd.

  [A hundred to one . . . what?]

  "Dollars silly. They pay a dollar for each shot."

  [You're collecting money!]

  "No Hilary collects it. It comes out of their pay. She's holding it for me. You should have a go; I'll give you a free one."

  Regan laughed. [So if I hit the target I get a hundred dollars?]

  "No mom, you don't get how this works, a hundred times nothing is still nothing."

  She shook her head, searching for something to say, [So has anybody won yet?]

  "Just one," A huge cheer interrupted him, ". . . Make that two."

  [Can you afford this mate?]

  "I'm doing good mom. Six hundred tries only two wins so far."

  [Wow, so if you stopped now you'd have made . . .] She hesitated, letting him fill in the number if he could.

  "That's four hundred dollars . . . less Hilary's cut . . . I'm a bit busy mom. Talk to you later."

  She laughed out loud. What a tonic.

  * * *

  Ham piloted the Coran warship in, nudging the huge vessel into position, perfectly joining the dance with Hillary station. In time they would extend a connecting spacebridge but for now he had no intention of allowing the Coran crew onto Hillary and simply held station parallel with the earthward end near the flight decks. It was time to talk. Gathering all crew on the ship flight decks proved simple. The threat of vacuum which Ham could just as easily provide inside the ship was a useful motivator.

  As Marin, Regan, Leah and Hayden waited near the field screen the crew sorted themselves, all looking for the best view and all nervous. Commander Merryl, by agreement waited in front with a small group of officers. He had offered to formally surrender and this was agreed as the best way to move forward. He looked understandably tense.

  Regan stepped forward two paces and waited. There seemed none of the traditional earth military formality and Merryl simply strode forward to meet her. Unusually he extended his left hand, catching her off guard. She looked confused for a second then too reached out while looking sideways at Marin for confirmation. In that moment he grasped her hand.

  Leah's dive followed her first glimpse of the blade. Just a hint as it dropped down from his right sleeve while he pulled Regan toward him. With one stride she leapt taking Merryls legs in a rugby tackle. At the same moment to Merryl's surprise Regan, much stronger than him, hauled back on the arm pulling him toward her while also stepping back. The combined effect with the tackle was to flatten him to the deck. Marin stamped hard on Merryl's right hand holding it in place and then made great show of reaching down to lift the long slim blade with his fingertips. He held the blade in the air.

  Turning to face the ship crew he stepped forward with the blade. "This," And he waved the blade in front of them, "This, is not the way of Cora! We, you and I, are brothers and sisters. You know who I am. I am of the tribe of Mariner. My father worked alongside yours for the good of all in our system. For generations we worked together with mutual respect. Yet now, can it be true the people of Cora are those who would take another tribe's home, even my own home orbital? Are the Coran's now a people who would wipe out millions of another race or species on a whim? I cannot believe it. Who put this great tribe up to this? I fear I know, and I am ashamed. My own mother is behind this, of this I am sure. And if there is any justice I will end her life with my own hand. She is not a leader to follow, not for my people, nor yours. This must stop now! You are alive today only because of the generosity of these people whom you attacked unjustly. They have not shown you the disregard you showed them. It is time to put your foolishness aside. Work with these people and you will find a future. Work against them and I can tell you the future will be bleak."

  Marin turned back to Merryl and hauled him to his feet. Taking the blade in his right hand he held it to the Commanders heart, just the tip touching his suit. They made eye contact and Marin held it, silent and expectant. Slowly Merryl raised his arms grasping Marin's hand tightly in both of his. Then in one swift motion he pulled the blade into his chest. In the deathly silence that followed Merryl slowly dropped to his knees falling forward as Marin stepped back. The action drove the blade through, deep into his chest.

  Regan hardly looked down. Stepping over the body she walked toward the crew taking a few paces before turning from one side to the other as if assessing the measure of each individual. She then proceeded to speak, beginning quietly and slowly building. Gasps at hearing their language spoken by a human quickly gave way to respectful silence. Her delivery was mesmerizing. She spoke with authority. She made room for compassion, and she did not seek to apportion blame. She spoke of the future, how close the two systems would soon become, of the opportunities for trade, of opportunities for all the people of Cora, for each of them as individuals and for their families. As she talked most had the sense she was speaking personally to them, and most began to feel the first sense of hope they had known for countless Coran Periods. Lastly, she was fair and honest. Those who wished to return home would be able to. However those who wished to begin a new Coran/Human partnership could start now. They were asteroid miners, not soldiers or troopers and she could use their skills. They could start a new colony here, in this system, working for her mining asteroids in the outer belt and they would be well rewarded. They could bring their families here. And soon, they could freely travel back and forward between systems.

  Those who did not wish to participate would be returned as soon as possible but not with this warship. In the meant
ime they would be sent to earth, to Russia. There would be no demands. They were free to choose.

  Finally, perhaps the greatest challenge. They must decide and advise their position to the new ship mind, her partner Ham. If they wished to discuss anything further it would be with him, no one else. If anyone stepped out of line they would have him to deal with. If they wanted to move forward it was time to put all prejudices aside.

  "Be very clear," she said, her gaze slowly panning across the hundreds assembled. "Ignore Ham at your peril. Work with him and you will thriiiive." She deliberately emphasized the last word, extending it as if it were a blessing. In what could have been a tense moment, the lift in spirits was almost tangible. With a nod she dismissed them and immediately a hum of excited chatter broke out across the deck.

  With more respect than Regan felt Merryl deserved, Marin stood over the body a few seconds as if in prayer, then lifted it and carried him to the Pod. When he returned he looked thoughtful. "We should return him," was all he said.

  Three hours later having finished their tour of the ship they gathered in the control room of the vessel alone. Leah stood looking aghast at the bloody stains wondering what atrocity occurred here. It was a thought they all shared.

  "I'll have that cleaned up ASAP," Ham advised, "I didn't think it did any harm to have a reminder there for the crew. The Commander was becoming a despot and they knew it."

  "What happened?" Hayden asked looking around in shock.

  "Seriously, you don't want to know. Let's leave it as a part of their sad history and their own nightmares. You don't need it Hayden." Ham moved quickly on. "An update for you Regan, around one third of the crew wants to go back immediately. Most of those have family they can't leave. Some may want to return here later with family. Only a few are dangerously bitter. I'll make sure they are off ship as soon as possible."