"We've only conducted a single test, Lem."
She wasn't calling him "Mr. Jukes" now. That was an improvement. "We don't have time for lengthy field tests, Benyawe. I see that it works. I'm sold. I want this moved into production now, today, as soon as possible."
"Today? The Board hasn't even approved the shield yet, much less this tech."
"They will," said Lem. "They'll approve both. As far as they're concerned, this is a financial no-brainer."
"And if you're wrong? If they don't approve?"
"We'll do it anyway. I'll finance it myself. And you can be sure that Chubs and his crew and plenty of the other ships will join us in the fight, regardless of what the Board decides."
She considered that and nodded. She knew Chubs as well as he did. All of the workers had gathered now. The mood of the room had shifted. There was an excitement among them. Lem could feel it.
"How do we move this into production?" said Benyawe. "We need facilities, crews, raw materials, bots."
"We'll use the drone production facility to build the shatter boxes. They're not doing anything at the moment. That whole division is a sunken ship. They'll be eager for the work. Then we move the shatter boxes and drone crews to Kotka and retrofit all the ships there. We'll need every engineer here as well," Lem said, looking around the room at their faces. "The ships at Kotka are of various sizes and shapes, with differing drive systems. We'll have to custom-make the fittings for the sling mechanisms for each ship, placing the sling wherever it will give the crews the most accurate targeting." He turned back to Benyawe. "So I repeat my final question to you: Do these pose a threat to Earth? We fretted over the glasers misfiring and hitting the planet. Is that a problem here?"
"No," said Benyawe. "The shatter boxes only emit the tidal forces once they've attached to their target and confirmed that their positions are polar opposites. There's no chance of them firing as they're rotating through space. I made certain of that. You don't want them misfiring and hitting the ship that launched them."
"What if they miss?" asked Lem. "What if one is slung down toward Earth?"
She shrugged. "It will burn up on reentry. It will never get near the surface."
Lem nodded. "That's good enough for me. Let's get busy. And Dr. Benyawe, a word in private please."
She followed him into his office, a cramped space with bare walls and two old, mismatched office chairs he had found discarded in the warehouse. He motioned Benyawe to one, and he sat opposite. He tapped his wrist pad, and the walls and ceiling went black, dotted with stars and vibrant nebulae, giving Lem and Benyawe the sensation of sitting on a platform in the immensity of space.
"Trying to set a mood?" she asked.
He nestled back into his chair, a musty threadbare thing that smelled like an attic. "It's funny. I hated every moment of our trip to the Kuiper Belt. The cramped spaces, the food, the inconvenience, the confinement. And yet I do miss this." He gestured around him. "There is nothing more peaceful than space."
"Is that what this is?" she asked. "An attempt at peace?"
"Between us?" he said. "I hope so. You're angry that I severed communications with Victor and Imala. But you have to understand--"
She cut him off. "I know why you made the decision you did, Lem. You don't have to justify your actions to me. You tried to stop your father. He had his reasons for moving forward. My issue is that you made that decision without consulting me or anyone else on the team."
"You would have objected," Lem said. "And if you had, I couldn't have stopped you from making a transmission. The only way to ensure that no transmission was sent was to keep you in the dark and pull the plug myself. I did this for their sake, Benyawe. As a kindness, a mercy."
She looked sad. "One day, Lem, you're going to wake up and realize how arrogant you are and how lonely your world is as a result."
He raised an eyebrow. "So much for passing the peace pipe. How am I being arrogant here? Please, I'd be fascinated to hear."
"You assume you're the only person intelligent enough to make a rational decision."
"That's not true. I ask for your counsel all the time."
"No, you ask that I advise you on how to achieve the decision you've already made. You don't ask what we should be doing in the first place. And what's ironic is that your father has this same trait and you find it maddening."
"Is this what this is about, Benyawe? You feeling slighted? You not having enough authority?"
She laughed. "Is that what you think? That I want authority?" She practically spit the word out. "I would have told Victor and Imala that drones were coming, yes. But I also would have done everything in my power to save their lives."
"There was no way to save them."
"This is my point. You decided it was hopeless. And if you couldn't think of a solution, then there must not be one."
"Are you saying you had a solution?"
"As impossible as that might seem to you, yes. I would have told them both to get as far inside the Formic ship as possible."
"Inside the target? The thing the drones were sent to destroy? That would've been your plan?"
"Yes. And if they had followed it they might have survived. We didn't know the strength of the hull. There was a good chance it could withstand the glasers. Which it did. So instead of relaying lifesaving instruction to the people under our care, the people we were responsible for, we did nothing." She stood. "What saddens me most is not that they died, Lem. It's that they died thinking we abandoned them, thinking we betrayed them. That's not a kindness. Or a mercy. That's anything but." She walked out.
He wanted to throw something. Nothing he did could please this woman. She was worse than Father.
Or was he angry because he knew she was right? He hadn't thought to have them hide inside the ship. He wouldn't have thought of that. It seemed absurd. And yet in hindsight it would have worked, maybe. It might have saved them.
He couldn't stay here. He had nothing to do but sit in his office and brood while everyone out in the warehouse chatted and twittered about what a monster he was. Thanks, Benyawe. Just as I feel a jolt of optimism, just as I'm rising out of the funk Ramdakan put me in, you have to throw the proffered olive branch back in my face.
He left his office, left the warehouse, not looking anyone in the eye. He climbed into his skimmer without knowing where he was going. The AI told him he had a message from Despoina. It started playing before Lem could object.
"It's me," she said, her voice just above a whisper. "Your father had a conference call today with several delegates from the European Union. Thought you might want to know. Also, I'm making lemon chicken tonight. Tell me what time you're coming."
Great, he thought. Now she wasn't even inviting him. He was expected to come over. And was she calling him from the office? Didn't she realize that all of those holo records were likely recorded?
He erased the message, flew back to his apartment, and threw his jacket to the floor. Let the cleaning crew pick it up. He went to the dispenser in the kitchen and poured himself a drink.
Father, Benyawe, Ramdakan, Des. To hell with them.
He downed the drink and replayed in his mind his conversation with Ramdakan. You're arrogant, Lem. You're too handsome, Lem. You're not your father, Lem. If you only had a different last name, Lem.
A child of privilege, they say. Ha. A child of a curse, is more like it.
Lem turned around, glass in hand, and stopped cold. The gun was an inch from his face.
"Welcome home," said Victor. "We've been waiting."
CHAPTER 11
Options
Victor got no pleasure from the look of surprise and shock on Lem's face. If anything, Victor felt only shame. Mother would never approve of something like this, he thought. Father neither. Waving a gun in someone's face, breaking into his home, frightening him, threatening him. This wasn't the family way. You're better than this, Vico, he could hear Mother say. We taught you better than this. The Lord said to
turn the other cheek.
Yes well both my cheeks have been slapped so many times, Victor thought, they're red and tender and ready to do a little slapping of their own.
Yet even as he clung to that thought and wanted to seem menacing, the tightness in Victor's face relaxed and the gun lowered to his side.
"Go sit on the sofa," Victor said, gesturing back to the living room with the gun. "And if you so much as twitch in a way that I don't like, I will shoot you in the kneecap." He sounded tired and not altogether threatening, but Lem did as he was told.
Imala was sitting by the hearth with her back against the stone chimney, arms folded across her chest. It had been her idea to confront Lem before they uploaded the vid onto the nets. She and Victor had read the news reports as soon as they were within range of Luna: Ukko Jukes had fired the drones, not Lem. The company's drone fleet was destroyed, and the market was in a panic. "Just because the press doesn't mention Lem doesn't mean he's innocent," Victor had said. "His father could be taking the fall to protect him." But even as Victor said it, he knew it probably wasn't true.
"There are still unanswered questions," Imala had said. "Until we get those answers, we should give Lem and Benyawe the benefit of the doubt."
Victor hadn't liked it. He had argued the matter repeatedly as they had returned to Luna, but Imala had persisted.
Lem sat on the couch. "I see you both raided my closet."
"We needed to shower and change," said Victor. "And since you have more clothes in your closet than my entire family did on El Cavador, we didn't think you'd miss two outfits."
"Be my guest," said Lem. "Take ten. Although I'm not exactly your size."
It was true. Lem was much taller than both of them, and Victor and Imala had rolled up the sleeves and pant legs.
"Let me bring someone up here to get you clothes that fit," said Lem.
Victor sneered. "Do you take us for idiots? You're not calling anyone. Take off your wrist pad and throw it to me. If you touch the screen at all, I'll shoot you in the kneecap."
"You're determined to shoot my kneecaps," said Lem, unfastening his wrist pad and tossing it over.
Victor caught it easily in the lesser gravity. "The kneecaps are where I would start. Then I move my way up."
"Can we dial back the testosterone please?" said Imala. "We came here for answers, Lem. If we like them, Victor doesn't put holes in your legs. If we don't like them, I make no promises."
"I didn't launch the drones," said Lem. "That was my father's doing. If you want to be angry at someone, go shove a gun in his face. I tried to stop him, he wouldn't listen."
"Prove it," said Victor. "I find it hard to believe you weren't working with dear old Dad on this one."
Lem scoffed. "You and your father might have been all chummy chum, Victor, but my dear old dad and I don't particularly see eye to eye on much of anything. He can't stand to be in the same room with me."
"Then he and I have more in common than I thought," said Victor.
"Ask Benyawe if you don't believe me," said Lem. "I fought to protect you. Do you honestly think I would go to the trouble of getting you the equipment and helping you reach the ship just to send drones after you? Do you think I would place more value on silencing you than on killing the Formics?"
"Maybe you were killing two birds with one stone," said Victor.
"Wow," said Lem. "Just wow. You know, I had heard of cases of severe paranoia, but I've never actually seen one in person. Fascinating."
"You forget I'm holding a gun," said Victor.
"Who cut off our communication?" said Imala.
Lem hesitated before answering. "I did. And I had very good reasons, though I doubt you'll agree with me."
Lem explained them. He was right. They didn't agree.
"Can I shoot him in the kneecaps now?" Victor asked.
"You take the right kneecap, I'll take the left," said Imala.
Lem held his hands up. "I did everything I could to save you. You may not agree with my decisions, but I did what I thought was right for you. We can still help each other in this. I want to stop the Formics as much as you do. I'm taking steps independent of my father to further protect Earth. We're setting up a shield of ships to stop any additional reinforcements. Benyawe and her team have developed a weapon to help in this effort. I can take you to the warehouse and show it to you. I want the team to see you anyway. Maybe they'll stop hating me once they know you're alive."
"Why would they hate you?" asked Victor. "Other than the obvious reasons of you being a lying snake and a selfish slug, I mean."
"Cutting your communication was my decision alone. Benyawe and the other engineers had nothing to do with it. They all despise me because of it."
Victor gave a face of mock surprise. "Someone despises you? I can't imagine why."
"You've asked your questions," said Lem. "Now I ask mine."
"Why should we tell you anything?" said Victor.
"Because I'm your benefactor. Because I made your expedition possible. And since the Formic ship is still hovering in space, you obviously failed to disable it. I want to know why, what happened, and what the next steps are. I know you were inside the ship, Victor. What did you see?"
Victor looked to Imala as if to ask how they should proceed.
"Victor took several hours of vids," said Imala. "He explored much of the interior of the ship and he has an idea on how to disable it. How to really disable it this time."
"Our first attempt didn't work because of the drone attack," said Victor. "I lost the explosive before I could plant it. But I doubt the explosive would have been sufficient anyway. We need to kill every Formic aboard and then seize the ship for ourselves."
"Wonderful," said Lem. "I agree. How do we do that?"
"There is no we here," said Victor. "We go our way and you go yours. Taking down the ship is our business now. Protecting Earth can be yours."
"You'll need resources," said Lem. "People, equipment. No one will give you the freedom that I will."
"We've heard this sales pitch before," said Victor. "And we nearly died because we listened to it. Do you honestly think either of us would ever work with you again?"
"Where will you go?" said Lem. "The military? They will cut you out of the equation. They'll take your vids and they'll brush you aside. In their minds, you're nobodies. You don't know infiltration, you don't know demolition, you're not soldiers, you're not qualified to even think about this kind of thing, much less execute an op. You're an auditor and a free miner with criminal records. Period. They'll commend you for your bravery and intel, then they'll show you the door. That is, assuming they don't call the police on you. Then they'll do their own thing based on what they see in the vids. Their own plan, their own approach. And guess what? It will fail. Why? Because they're the military, led by careerist generals who are more interested in elevating themselves and preserving their dynasties than in taking risks and breaking convention."
"There are good people in the military," said Imala.
"Of course there are," said Lem. "Ninety-nine percent of soldiers and officers are the salt of the Earth, heroes in every sense. I salute them. Too bad those ninety-nine percent won't be the ones making the decisions about your intel. You want evidence? Look at every military op that has been conducted since this war began. Fail, fail, fail. All because of incompetent leadership."
"And you think your leadership is better?" asked Victor.
"I'm not volunteering to lead anything," said Lem. "This would be your op. You pick the staff, you pick the equipment. You manage it. I simply supply the resources."
"Then you pull the plug when it's not going your way," said Victor.
"Wrong," said Lem. "I would give all oversight to Benyawe. I trust her judgment now more than my own. I learned that the hard way."
"There are other avenues besides you and the military," said Victor. "We could go public with this. We could release the vid on to the nets."
Lem l
aughed. "What would that accomplish? Giving the world a glimpse inside the ship doesn't cause it to suddenly explode. You still have to strike it. You still need a team to conduct an op."
"We would get a team," said Imala. "People would rally behind this. People with skills and talents and ideas. They'd volunteer."
"Yes, and in practical terms what you're describing is a logistical nightmare," said Lem. "How do you manage the deluge of volunteers from all over the world? How do you manage their ideas? Their resources? How do you determine if you even want their help? They could be nutcases. Or worse. Most of them won't have any of the skills you need or be qualified to help. Who's going to tell them that? You?"
"There are ways to filter people and find who we need," said Imala.
"True," said Lem. "But who's going to set up those systems? You? Do you even know how to do that? That takes time and man hours. And anyway you're not looking for individuals. You're looking for a team. Soldiers. Experienced professionals. Men and women with very specific combat expertise. How do you form a cohesive team when you have people coming from different cultures, languages, opinions? Many of these people will be enemies. You can't just throw them together and hope for the best. Assuming you even get them to be cooperative, they would need time to train as a team. And who's going to command them? Who makes that call? You two? It's not an easy choice to make. When soldiers don't have a preexisting command structure, they're at each other's throats in minutes."
"You make it sound like humans have never worked together before," said Imala.
"Have you forgotten what happened the last time you uploaded something onto the nets?" said Lem. "You warned the world of an invasion, and did they come together, did they unite under a flag, did they make rational decisions and value the opinions of others and work as one? No. They yelled at each other and floundered around like imbeciles and left us with no global defense. They practically rolled out the red carpet for the Formics. And when the Formics blew them to hell, did Earth get its act together? Did we suddenly wake up and say, Gee we should probably unite on this, folks. No, we did a little more floundering and a little more imbecilic posturing, and now we have no fleet in space to protect us and a fractured global leadership."
Earth Awakens Page 18
