Sanctuary (Jezebel's Ladder Book 3)

by Scott Rhine

  “Do they sell jewelry?” she asked as the corporate VTO shuttle landed on a well-manicured circle of ice that could have been a rink.

  Hans had to look up that information on his glasses. “No stores, ma’am, but there’s a native handcrafter we can visit if he’s not on duty with the sled dogs.”

  She sniffed. “He’ll probably smell like dogs. No. Keep the jet warmed up. I don’t expect this to take too long. If it goes well, I might bring a few passengers: Kaguya and her nurse, that sort of thing.”

  Hans whispered into his sleeve as the airport crew rolled out a staircase. “The pilot says we can easily swing three people with light luggage or four without.”

  Amanda harrumphed. She had not been asking permission. She focused her displeasure on the ground crew. The stairs were not heated or covered, and she had to walk fifty yards across open ice to reach the entrance to the dome. The stock spiked to an all-time high as attendants relieved her of her coat, so she kept the dark glasses on for the constant updates. Too bad it hadn’t worked out between Kaguya and that nice Zeiss boy commanding the mission. It would have been her daughter’s name attached to the successful test flight of the new spacecraft. Ah well, it was the same amount of money either way.

  The head of the facility met Amanda and escorted her to the invalid ward. People damaged by pages could sometimes recover in this mental seclusion. The ever-present pastel blue and disinfectant smells made her ill. When she entered her daughter’s private room, the odor of cheap oatmeal filled the air. Amanda remembered eating the paste as a child and vowing never to do so again. Yet, when the nurse touched Kaguya’s lips with the spoon, the young woman opened for more.

  “She’s eating on her own!” Amanda said. But her daughter’s vacant gaze remained on the picture of the planets drawn by Kepler.

  Nurse Lisel smiled. “Not quite, Frau Mori. She’s like this for almost a week every time Conrad visits.”

  “Conrad who?”

  “Herr Professor Doktor Zeiss,” the nurse said, gesturing to a picture of the L1 construction platform on the ceiling.

  Amanda removed her scarf, holding it in such a way that it could be used to strangle the woman if she gave the wrong answer. “What was he doing to my daughter?”

  Lisel laughed as she scooped oatmeal from the side of Kaguya’s mouth. “Only talks, sometimes without words.”

  “In a romantic way?”

  “No. If anyone tries to touch her, she responds violently, like many autistic children. He calms her and gives her new problems. Miss Kaguya becomes very frustrated when she does not have interesting problems. Although, anchor theory says that the only successful Quantum talents have a loved one who anchors them to the physical world. Without that, they drift into . . .” Too late, the nurse realized she was pouring salt in the mother’s wounds.

  Holding out the bowl and spoon, the nurse asked, “Would you like to feed her? We have bananas mixed in today—her favorite.”

  Surprising even herself, Amanda removed her gloves and scarf, taking over the nurse’s duty. “She couldn’t get enough ‘nana when she was little.”

  Kaguya leaned to her right, and the first spoonful quickly leaked out the side of her mouth. The nurse whispered, “You’re blocking her view of the poster.”

  Amanda shifted, and they had a pleasant dinner. Her daughter was clean and free of bed sores—about all one could have hoped. “When did Commander Zeiss come last?”

  “The day I took the picture for you.”

  “It must have been his last stop before the spaceport. Do you think he still cares for Kaguya?”

  “This visit, he accompanied his wife to the clinic and decided to stop by. Don’t worry. Frau Zeiss is not permitted on these premises because your daughter has an apoplectic fit whenever she gets within eight meters.”

  “Why the clinic here? Is there something wrong with Mira?”

  The nurse took the empty bowl from her with a shrug. “She is healthy enough for space.”

  As Amanda replaced her glasses, the stock ticker showed a sudden, drastic dip in the stock price. A red indicator flashed, causing her to tap her earring. “Report.”

  Over the link, Hans told her, “The anti-space-alliance forces have just declared war on Fortune Enterprises. As soon as refueling is complete, I recommend we leave the site and head for home.”

  The rich woman snorted. “Please, we’ve been at war with them for twenty years.”

  “It’s different now. Mr. Mori wanted you to know that Tetra-1 landed on the artifact.”

  Her first reaction was excitement because she had an agent on that ship. Then she was even more thrilled because war meant opportunity. Amanda established a priority link to her assistant on the jet. “Sell our remaining Chinese, Malaysian, and Middle East assets as quickly as possible, even at a loss. Use the proceeds to buy every share of Fortune stock you can get your hands on over the next few days.” She found notes on an operation plan called ‘Seven Seals,’ and forwarded the instructions to her assistant in Tokyo.

  She told the nurse, “Have Kaguya on the plane before we leave. You will attend her.”

  The nurse was shocked. “Madam, this is so sudden. Not only do we have personal belongings to pack, but I am required to clear changes in my schedule through this institution. Her doctor will also need to approve.”

  Glancing at her heads-up display, Amanda said, “You have sixty-five minutes until we take off. If you are not on board, we leave without you. You can always buy new clothes. Sedate Kaguya if you must. I’ll inform the director, and he’ll give you clearance in a few minutes.”

  Amanda strode into the hallway and straight into Director Stanton’s cramped office. He seemed startled by the intrusion but said only, “May I help you?”

  “Quite a step down from Dean of Sirius Academy,” she observed.

  His voice was as cold as the weather outside when he replied, “One takes what one is offered. At fifty, my options were limited.”

  “What if I offered something better?”

  He put down his pen and cocked his head. “I won’t murder anyone.”

  She waved the thought away. “Nothing illegal, just information. I’ve tried to access which clinic Mira Zeiss attended when she was here. Even board access is denied.”

  “Due to medical ethics.”

  Amanda sat opposite the fallen director, her sweater riding up as she did so. He definitely noticed her shape. “You’re not medical personnel.”

  He opened his mouth to object, staring more openly. “Forgive me, at this station we don’t get many women of your . . . caliber.”

  “Your wife left you when you lost your last position.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then she wasn’t worthy of you. Men are lucky. They can start again into their seventies. This is an opportunity for you.”

  “An opportunity?”

  “Our office in Rio de Janeiro does a lot of entertaining to maintain relationships with various governments. The budget for parties and events is sizeable. The position of chief administrator comes with a beach-front condo that has an excellent view of possible wife candidates. As a board member, my husband could recommend you for that transfer.”

  The director actually licked his lips at the mention of the beach condo. “If I were interested in anomalies, I would ask myself why Dr. Drang, a world-class fertility expert, decided to relocate here temporarily.”

  “Did I mention that the salary for Rio is twice what you make now?” she encouraged, leaning back and smoothing her hair in order to show off her assets.

  “I would also be curious why Conrad and Mira Zeiss are his only clients.”

  “For what purpose?”

  Stanton swallowed hard. “I . . . I’m not sure, but he has a lot of small, cryogenic-preservation equipment for someone in the Antarctic.”

  Amanda moved to the director’s desk. “Are they collecting eggs and sperm in case the shuttle explodes?”

  “That would be my guess. O
nly the fertilized eggs can be frozen. The seals on the storage room require two badges. Even I can’t get in.”

  “But I could?”

  “With your board-level access codes and the doctor’s badge, yes.”

  “Inform the doctor that war has been declared against the company. For their protection, he and the samples will accompany me to New York.”

  The director hesitated. “Couldn’t I go, too?”

  She leaned against him to confide in his ear. “That would look like I seduced you. I don’t want your good name besmirched.”

  “How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

  Amanda removed her inactive earring, the one without the radio, and slipped it into the director’s hand. “These were handmade and bear my name in microprint. They are my favorites, worth at least fifty thousand dollars.” She closed his hand around it. Then, she wrote the word ‘Rio’ on the napkin on his desk, sealing it with a kiss. “Even if I die en route, the Mori clan will honor our deal when you present this token to the head of the family.”

  Stanton bowed. “I’ll summon the doctor and tell him about the emergency evacuation.”

  ****

  Using the secure communications console in the tracking station, Amanda Mori called the most experienced page physician alive, a retiree in Texas. “Doctor, I’m sorry to get you up so late.”

  “It’s all right, Mrs. Mori. I don’t sleep much these days. How can I help you?”

  “A theoretical matter about pages. If brief exposure to a certain person has the ability to stabilize quantum talent for a week, could long-term exposure make the victim lucid?”

  Standing in a red, plaid, flannel robe, the doctor scratched his head. As an ethics reader, he couldn’t lie. “Very possibly, but there are no studies.”

  “Would the bond between a mother and an infant qualify as an anchor?”

  “With any woman I’ve met, yes. Where is this leading?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say . . . not until the next board meeting. Good night.”

  Commander Zeiss held 2 percent of Fortune stock. Any heir would likely inherit this stock. She could get her daughter back and garner billions in one swoop. Old man Fortune had insulted her, and his son had ruined her career. Now it was time for some revenge.

  While she was in the communications room, a broadcast came from moon base informing her of two things: moon base was under attack, and Yuki-san would be one of the first two humans inside the alien craft. She called her husband immediately to pass on the news.

  Tetsuo Mori wore his black hair back in the style of an ancient samurai, in contrast to his modern Alexander Amosu suit with no tie and gold-limned buttons. When he heard about the plan to inseminate Kaguya to gain stock, he remained stone-faced for a long time.

  She concluded with, “Everyone will believe Zeiss did it. Kaguya confessed to their affair before her disability. I have hospital logs for him visiting her three times, which I will bring with us. The nurse will testify to my version, or she will die in an accident.”

  Eventually, he asked, “You would kill, ruin the name of a man who helped us, and steal his legacy to make me richer?”

  She bowed before the screen. “And give you the greatest psi talent in the world, an heir who towers above kings.”

  Mori nodded. “You are the best of all possible wives. I will deny you nothing.” His breathing became deeper. “Hurry home. I would thank you in private.”

  ****

  Sitting in her jet on the helipad, Amanda waited impatiently for clearance to leave this barren wasteland before anything else froze. Over the intercom, the pilot said, “Ten minutes till the flight path is clear and all systems are green.”

  The fertility doctor seemed nervous. Dr. Drang’s price had been a chain of clinics in California and a guest spot on a popular talk show. Now his conscience was chafing him like diaper rash. Amanda was losing patience. “We’ll stop in Bangkok to perform the procedure discreetly. Then, you’ll be free to tender your resignation. The war gives you the perfect excuse to leave guilt-free.”

  “I am only supposed to give the samples to their family.”

  “Red is an orphan, and Zeiss has a sister who is incapable of safeguarding this property. It belongs in New York with the board.”

  Drang squirmed a little. “That’s not completely true. There is one other party who might have a claim. Their will leaves the samples to Mira Hollis—with authorization to implant the pre-fertilized ova.”

  “Mira Hollis, the Fortune heir, can’t have children?”

  “I couldn’t speculate on that. I only know what the codicil attached to these containers specifies.”

  “If something happens to Hollis?”

  “The samples pass to Claudette Fortune. PJ Smith and his wife are last on the list.”

  “Why would they be interested in the Zeiss progeny?”

  The nurse was quiet, riveted to the news coverage live from the Brazil spaceport. They were showing photos from inside the alien craft. Lisel ignored the arguments, as she had for the past half hour. After the baby was born, she would receive a villa in Bavaria. They were all surprised when the nurse pointed to the screen and whimpered.

  The inset with the man reporting live from the port turned to static. The view of the spaceport from the jungle flared white and froze. The final image showed a string of TV vans being lifted into the air, with a bright column in the background. Hans sat on the arm of her chair, unable to take his own gaze off the picture.

  Moments later, Amanda’s glasses flashed red and provided details about the tragedy. A small nuclear weapon from Algeria had wiped out the Brazil spaceport and all the dignitaries present. Amanda turned to the doctor. “This has just become the premier ticket on the continent. Now you need to decide—are you loyal to me for the rest of your life, or will you get off my plane?”

  “If you kick me off, I could still tell the board.”

  “Half of them were at ground zero.”

  He no longer felt as confident. Her next statement knocked out all remaining moralizing. “All Fortune Aerospace sites are targets now.” She pointed to the logo on the space-tracking arrays beside the jet. “I’m guessing you’ll be high and mighty for about an hour before you glow. I can name three other people on that iceberg who’d worship me for the opportunity to leave. You have thirty seconds to decide.”

  In ten seconds, Dr. Drang clipped his seatbelt.

  Amanda pressed her newfound convert. “Why would Hollis or anyone else care about Zeiss’ children?”

  “Because Red, as you call her, is the real Mira Hollis. The woman in New York is a media shadow and a friend.”

  She did some quick addition. Any Zeiss children would eventually inherit controlling interest in the Fortune empire. This man had just handed Amanda the keys to the world. If the Zeisses returned, she could blackmail alien secrets from them. If they died, she would be the regent to the sole heir of Fortune. She could dance on the old bastard’s grave.

  When the take-off thrusters fired, the doctor nearly wet himself, afraid that the nuclear explosions had already arrived. Amanda signaled the attractive, young stewardess. “Mai, make sure the good doctor stays relaxed on our trip.”

  She was also pleased that she wouldn’t have to pay Director Stanton for his assistance; though it was a shame about the earring.

  Chapter 5 – Fear is the Mother of Violence

  At ninety-six minutes past the event, Zeiss experienced a blinding headache coupled with vomiting.

  Oleander was the first to say, “His pupils and symptoms look like a concussion.”

  Twenty minutes later, Auckland couldn’t find anything physically wrong. “It’s mental—page related—whatever it is.” He treated it with a cold pack on the forehead and an anti-inflammatory.

  The commander was clearly suffering. Red held him on her lap as he shivered. “Are you saying it’s psychosomatic?”

  “Not at all. I just don’t know what’s causing it.”


  By rank, their pilot Lou was supposed to take over the mission. However, he didn’t press Red on the issue yet. “Is it a relapse from earlier injuries—like when the whales died?”

  Auckland shook his head. “This is new. He’s more sensitive than the rest of us.”

  “Anything wrong with the two volunteers?” asked Red.

  Toby said, “Halfway through their rinse cycle. If anything, they’ll outlive us all. Healthiest humans I’ve ever seen. The scrubber has actually done some error correction on aberrant patterns.”

  “Like?” asked the other physician.

  “Mercy was set to have breast cancer in another ten years. Not anymore.”

  “Wow. Her mother and sisters may want to get screened for those symptoms,” Auckland told Oleander. “Use the words lobular carcinoma in your report.”

  “Saving lives is our number-one priority,” agreed the Swedish Out-of-body expert.

  “Too bad we can’t ship a few of these toadstools home,” said Toby.

  Sonrisa, the structural engineer, shook her head. “That would be like sending a faucet. When it got back home, they’d wonder why water doesn’t come out anymore.”

  Frustrated, Toby asked, “What does the Great and Powerful Oz say?”

  “Sensei suggests we ask our own people what happened,” Red replied, feeling like an oracle.

  At the two-hour mark, Zeiss’ Swiss watch beeped, causing Herk to pull out a large Gauss gun—a vacuum-friendly device that used magnetism to accelerate bits of metal to lethal speeds. A knob on the side that adjusted the size of the bullet looked like it was set to the size of a quarter.

  Red had to calm the guard. “It’s just the signal to send Ole out again. Toby, anything more to report on the alien tech?”

  The nanobiologist laughed. “In one hour? I could do a dissertation on what we don’t know. Things we figured out, I’ve told Ole already.”

  “Ditto,” said Sonrisa.

  Taking a deep breath, Oleander closed her eyes and focused on her brother, Johann.

  She appeared on the bridge of the tiny Seraph moments later, and her brother smiled in relief. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the pilot’s breath came out as a fog. Why so cold? she thought to her brother.