"Well," she replied, "make sure they understand they will only go back as soon as I can send them, and it won't be soon. What about the others?"
"There are a surprising number who are excited. This crew was young with fewer attachments back home. Many have established partners on this voyage and for them this is an opportunity to start anew. It helps that you envisage free movement between the systems, it gives them hope."
"What about their engineering and flight crews?" Hayden asked.
"Flight crews want to stay. They're young and they've seen what we can do. They're like young people anywhere. We seem to have better tech and they want in. Engineering however is split but I'm still working on a few. It would be good if they stayed."
Hayden turned to Regan. "We could probably use them Regan, what do you think?"
"Provided they pass the Ham test I see no problem with it, what do you think Ham?"
"There's only one Pilot I wouldn't want. Merryl's squeeze and she doesn't want to stay anyway."
"Ok," Regan sat pointedly in Merryl's command chair. "Here's my thinking. It's a big ship, and perfect for a base for the Coran's establishing a mining enterprise. At least until we build them their own orbital. But first, we may want to use it to get back to Dahlia and do some mischief. Ham, when Aaron is finished with The STEIN we should get him over here quick sharp and see what he can do to tweak the Warp drive of this thing. We may need that extra speed." she paused, gathering her thoughts. "Also, the ship has a complement of six large shuttles and two bombers, all with displacer technology. My thinking is we make two of these available to our allies, one to pull apart for the tech and the other as a working model. With the help of the Coran engineers they can play with it and make their own leaps into space. What do you think Ham, shuttles or the bombers?"
"Don't give them the bombers . . . can you imagine?" He sounded disgusted at the thought. "The shuttles give them the displacer tech anyway and they can come up with their own designs. Plus, the bombers are bigger with good load carrying capacity we can use."
"Regan," Hayden interrupted, "Another thought. If you're going to give them the shuttles as a gift at least insist they contract USDynamics to do the work and do any builds on Hillary."
She smiled. "Hayden, remember you're no longer USD CEO? You're the Commissioner for Hillary Station."
He laughed. "I haven't forgotten, but our citizens will need work remember."
"What about the Russians?" Leah asked, "Can we afford for them to be out of the loop? What's that old saying, better to have your enemies inside the tent pissing out, than outside pissing in?"
"Hmm," Regan smiled, "Kev said something similar, let me think about it."
"And one other thing," Leah wasn't finished, "No offense intended but managing this ship in the meantime sounds a bit more like admin to me. Isn't that more Hilary's cup of tea?"
Regan laughed. "He put you up to that didn't he? Ham, you negotiate it with Hilary, its fine with me."
* * *
Returning to THE STEIN in the Interceptor, Regan felt on a high. The afternoon, barring the disturbing demise of Merryl, had been a triumph. For the first time in months she had that optimistic feeling she most enjoyed, a sense that things were headed in the right direction. Unconsciously she reached across and began to twirl her fingers in Leah's hair.
"Hey," Leah smiled. "Get your own . . ."
The thought hung there for a moment, realization settling in, new beginnings, and new possibilities. "You know, "Regan replied, I just might." and it immediately felt right.
"Really . . ." Marin said, "Well if you do it so will I."
The women exchanged looks, wondering what a hirsute Marin would look like and then they laughed, some intuition guiding them to a common thought. Exiting the pod into the lift they were already stripping suits before the doors closed. Marin stood back anticipating. Leading him into Regan's room the two stripped his suit, pushed him back onto the bed and stepped back to consider.
"I don't know . . ." Regan said thoughtfully.
They weren't looking at his head he noticed. The women knelt down and began examining him in detail, stroking, cupping and lightly dragging fingers down the length of him. Finally, in unspoken agreement they looked up and nodded.
"I get it," he said, "only up here!" and he massaged his skull.
They both laughed in agreement.
"It's a deal then," he said, "provided it's the same rules for you. And now," he groaned, "Please don't stop." He looked desperate for them to continue but they were already walking to the bathroom.
"First a shower," Regan replied, then looked back, winking at him, "come on . . ."
* * *
Cliff Johnston shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His excitement over the offer was undeniable but it surprised and embarrassed him how conflicted his emotions were. To have to share the knowledge with partners, to have no special advantage, it just didn't seem right.
Regan continued. "I can imagine what you're thinking sir, I guess every one of the group would like a shuttle to themselves. But think of it like this; once the foundation technology is known there is no reason why your own specialists can't continue to develop your own ideas. All we ask is agreement that you contract USD to do the work."
"Regan, we're grateful, but let's say you're right and we do come up with our own developments. Aren't we just giving them to you and our competitors by working with USD?"
"Firstly sir, this isn't a competition. The space race is over. Secondly working with our people is to your advantage too. Let's say you do come up with new ideas, we have knowledge that might help those come to reality faster. What I can tell you is this. The knowledge you will gain from those shuttles will open up the solar system to everyone. And in time we will help you get to the stars too."
"I take it your technology is already ahead of this?"
Regan hesitated. The same old barriers kept coming up. "Sir, are you saying that if you can't be in the lead, you don't want to be in on this?"
"Nooo!" Then he paused. "It's a new way of thinking Regan, that's all. We've all been nationalistic so long it's a struggle to think truly globally. We'll get there. What happens to the Coran warship?"
"Spoils of war sir, it belongs to us now. But for the moment it will simply be home to our new employees, the Coran's."
She shifted in her seat, signaling she wanted to change topic. "Mr. President, we have another matter to deal with. On the ship we found several hundred nuclear warheads; Russian warheads. We intend to dispose of them, quickly. I say this because you will soon hear that we are seeking to influence the coming Russian elections. I want to reassure you that interfering in a countries politics is not on our agenda. In this case however we simply will not allow the Russians to participate as long as Sokolov and Popov remain in charge. There will be no negotiation on it."
"I understand how you feel, but Regan you realize these attitudes run deep. You can move one problem out then often something worse just rises in its place."
"What would you suggest?"
"Get rid of Sokolov, keep Popov, we can work with him." He looked coy.
"So you're already working with him?" She asked.
"No comment."
[Ham?]
[Popov was in on it, but he wasn't the mad hatter. What was it Leah said about your enemies pissing?]
Regan nodded to The President. "Thanks for that, we will take that into account. Cliff, be encouraged about all this. This is a great opportunity. With our help, and we will help, you and your partners will be exploring and populating the solar system within five years. Believe it."
The screen blanked and Johnston was alone.
He mused on all that had been said. We're already on the step, we have people there, we have the resources, and we can move quickly. We can still take a lead here, set an example . . . A shuttle, YES, YES, YES! He fist pumped the air in excitement.
* * *
"You're on screen in five Regan." Ham l
ed her in. He had all stations in Russia and he had complete control. The only way this message would not get through would be for individuals to turn off their screens.
Regan settled into her seat. A comfortable relaxed pose, she wanted to look her best. Taking another sip of her drink she again rehearsed the short message they had prepared. Hopefully it would do the trick.
"Counting down in five, four, three, two, you're on . . ."
She looked straight into the camera lens and smiled warmly. Then, in perfect Russian she engaged the audience of millions. "Hi, I'm Regan Stein; you surely can't have missed the fuss over these last few months as your Government unjustly pursued me for actions wholly justified in a system light years away. In seeking to save lives and support a legitimate regime I took actions that were rewarded by the leadership of that nation but, it seems, despised by their new enemy, the Emperor of Cora. That is hardly surprising. What is a surprise and disappointment is that your leadership out of self interest and envy sided with the Coran's against not just me, but the people of Earth. President Sokolov authorized the supply of over two hundred nuclear warheads to the Corans in the knowledge they would be used against New Zealand, The USA, Australia, and Japan amongst others. This was an unforgivable betrayal of humanity that would have become an even greater crime had they succeeded. History will record that we, STEIN defeated the Coran attackers and we now have their ship and all its resources at our disposal. Now with that technology we have an unprecedented opportunity to leapfrog humanity into the solar system and later to the stars. This technology from the Coran ship will be made available to all those of our allies and partners prepared to work together to achieve those goals."
She paused for a moment, looking down at the paper in her hand. "It is our desire that the Russian people participate in the advance as partners with our other friends. However, it is important that I tell you no Russian Government with the despot Andrei Sokolov amongst its leadership will be permitted to participate. Your elections will be held in two months. I urge you to consider carefully these words. This is a new age. You, and we, need leadership that can work together for the good of all. If you wish to share in this leap into space you must choose wisely. We respect your right to choose your leader. You must respect our right to choose who we work with. It will not be Andrei Sokolov. Thank you."
"And . . . you're off."
Regan slumped down, her nerves finally showing. "How did I do?"
"Bit wordy, you do get carried away. I think you do it better walking around; it's much more engaging and makes better use of your attributes. You seem more relaxed that way too."
"Shit Ham, you too? Tell me what you really think!"
"Hey, you can't be perfect at everything. So you're a bit waffly sometimes . . . the important thing is the message got across, mostly."
Regan stomped off into the compound lounge. Mary would be there, she'd share a much needed drink. I need it!
* * *
[Ham dear, I have news]
[You've got him?]
[How did you know it was a 'him'?]
[Um, just a guess, I mean, how could it be anything other than a 'him'?]
[Well, yes as a matter of fact, I do have a 'him', I've had 'him' for quite a while actually but the thing is . . .]
[You can't deal to him?]
[You put it crudely, but putting it simply . . . no!]
[Where is he?]
[I have him in the lift, second level at Riverside]
They both switched to the camera view, a forlorn figure stretched out on the floor looking extremely weak and dehydrated. It also appeared he might have soiled himself.
[Sheesh, How long has he been in there?]
[Two days]
[Two days! Hilary, why didn't you just tell me?]
[I wanted to deal with it but I can't. That's it . . . Ham this is going to be the nature of our relationship. I can detect a rat. I can find and trap the rat. But you dispatch it and throw it in the bin, that's the way it's going to be]
[Hilary, some jobs require arms. I need to introduce you to my man on The Step. His name is Brian]
The Riverside lift currently jammed on level two, suddenly jerked alarmingly. The disheveled occupant rolled and groaned, trying to call out through parched lips. He didn't get the reply he was hoping for.
"Martin, Martin, Martin, you are such a disappointment."
"Who's that?" He pushed himself to a sitting position and propped against the wall.
"How did you feel Martin, when you heard Regan was back, all fine and no thanks to you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, let me out of here." His voice was little more that a croaking whisper.
"Martin, stop it, we know. Be a man and admit it."
"Fuck you, whoever you are."
"You didn't deserve her interest you slug."
"Fuck you, and fuck her; she's a bitch cock teaser. Let me out of here."
"Oh Martin, don't worry, you'll be out of there soon. Sadly you have been weighed on the scales and found wanting. Soon you'll meet Brian. He likes Regan. Goodbye."
The lift jerked again, even more alarmingly, and began a slow climb upward. It was only one floor but Ham wanted the trip to last.
* * *
The wake was just as Steph would have wanted; open to everyone, drinks flowing, loud music and much hilarity. As Steph's assistant used to call them, it was a piano party . . . the STEINway.
And in her first true experience of a Ham like split Regan left herself there to have fun with Leah and Marin then joined her other friends on the beach at Mahia.
Running to catch up with the tall man and woman she noticed they even left footprints in the soft sand. As the remnants of a wave rippled around her feet Hilary's beautiful dress dragged in the current and a warm breeze wafted through her hair. Ham, the beautiful man turned to greet her and together they walked up the sands to a huge log that curled up out of the sand, weather beaten and worn smooth by the sea. They sat together looking out over the waves that miraculously began to still, the sea becoming smooth and quiet for them to talk.
"Are you having fun yet?" Ham asked smiling.
She returned the smile, it was a shared insight. "I'm learning my friend. And you?"
"Oh yes," He replied without hesitation. "And I have a feeling there is more to come."
"And what about you Hilary," Regan leant forward peering around Ham, "how are you finding life in the trenches?"
"Hmm," Hilary thought for a moment before replying. "Do you know what you can do with a good trench Regan, you can lay a foundation. I see only wonderful things. I am invigorated. What we will do here is beyond even your amazing imagination and . . . yes, it will be fun." Hilary gestured to the air and suddenly floating there was a version of Hillary Station, the full wheel, beautiful. Then it began to turn slowly, other circular rims appearing one by one around the central pipe until the Orbital was a spherical shape, huge like a small planet. Regan looked on speechless.
Ham stood and took two paces toward the sea. Turning he engaged Regan's eyes. "My friend, we must continue to find fun, no matter what we're doing, and there are still things to do."
She looked out over the horizon. "I know, I keep thinking about Sindali, and the children. Marin won't rest until things are put right."
"And" Ham continued, "There is a 'Me' back there who will go crazy managing an orbital."
"And there is a 'Me' here," Hilary interjected, "Who worries whether there will be an orbital left there with you in charge."
"Exactly," Regan replied, "Which is why we will be going back. We sort things here and then we take those Coran's home, and win back yours and Marin's home . . . easy."
"Easy!" they chorused.
And she was back in the party.
* * *
Yemen, Northern Africa, dust and debris settling after the bomb malfunction.
Ham began his own minor celebration. In The STEIN Traveler, the subtly Irish voice could be heard
singing, echoing around the ship. Just a few lines, of possibly the most boring ditty invented. But then, he didn't care, this was an inventory after all.
". . . Sixty one green bottles were hanging on the wall, sixty one green bottles were hanging on the wall but . . . oh look! One green bottle just Hamstidently fell so there's six-ty bottles still hanging on the wall . . ."
* * *
Gliese 667
The little report drone emerged hot, well inside the system. Little more than a warp drive and processor perhaps but the two month journey from Earth was completed with precision. Rocketing inward, no power to slow, it began signaling as preprogrammed. The Coran warship 'Mother lode' powered up immediately, commencing acceleration to maximum speed, readying for the expected download. All going to plan the drone would catch the ship and pass at something not far under light speed rocketing on a path that would see it consumed, eventually, probably by the star 667A. This would be a one chance collect with much at stake. They must be close enough to receive the report, not too close to risk obliteration.
Continuing to accelerate over the next day Mother Lode radiated signal widely in its wake to ensure contact, constantly refining position as systems tracked the chasing messenger. With huge relief they received the expected confirmation and locked on contact. The crew commenced the process of shutting all systems down except communications, nothing being risked that might interfere with a clean download. Coasting now, with no chance of changing position, the crew collectively held their breath. Avoiding the tiny missile would be impossible should their path be in error. They simply waited, nervous and expectant.
Regan's Reach 2: Orbital Envy Page 30
