From time to time he’d sit back and his eyes would rove to the communicator on the desk. It was on an internal network, so it would be much easier to contact Neraya from here than from the outside world. In a manner of speaking he’d been legitimized by these recent developments, so he should no longer be an embarrassment to her. All the same he felt a resistance, a kind of ill-defined threshold he’d have to surmount before he could take that crucial step. After a few days a small surge of resolve made him get up and go over to the desk. He sat down and reached for the communicator but his hand shrank back at the last moment. He closed his eyes and his chin dropped to his chest. His body was suffused with a deep ache. He’d been low when she’d visited him in prison but he’d sunk a lot lower since then. Even if she was prepared to see him it would be some time before he had the confidence and self-esteem to face her.
*
There was one thing he did promise himself he’d do: he requested an advance of salary and took it round to Ralph. Ralph had been a good friend to him in his own grubby way. It was Ralph who’d put a roof over his head, shared the little he had, and endured his fanatical exercise. When he handed over the money Ralph looked at it in disbelief.
“Jeez, Danny boy, I can’t take this from yer!”
“Go on, take it. If it hadn’t been for you I might not have found out about this job in the first place. You earned it. Here, I got you a little present as well.”
“What’s this?”
“Unwrap it, you’ll see.”
He unwrapped it and held it up. It was a brand-new singlet. Ralph’s eyes narrowed and he looked sharply at Dan to see what he meant by it. Dan was trying to smother his laughter. Seeing that, Ralph started smiling and they ended up hugging and laughing and slapping each other on the back. Dan felt good going back to HQ.
*
There was more than enough to keep him occupied. Large teams were working elsewhere in the building, calculating the weight distribution, arranging loading schedules, and compiling the onboard navigation software that would compute his flight path. As each task was completed they’d place the programs and data on the secure databank and notify Mission Overview. Then he would access those files, check them in detail, and raise any issues in his regular meetings with Hal Lewis.
Hal was Senior Controller of Operations. He was in his fifties, tall and flat-stomached, with a bearing he’d acquired during his early years in the military. His hair was iron-grey now but he still wore it very short. They put in a lot of hours together. Hal was laid back, professional, and totally competent. Dan had built up a healthy regard for him.
As well as the task of inspecting the work done by the planning teams, Dan had a stack of material to study about Solar Wind, the Spacefreighter he was going to fly. Solar Wind was an E-Class. The largest and most up-to-date freighter in the fleet, it hadn’t even been in service when Craig Chapman had described it to them at the Academy. It was certainly far bigger than anything he’d handled before and he had to familiarize himself with a lot of new systems. Before long the loading would commence, and he could visualize that immense triple-hull sitting out in orbit, with the tiny shuttles buzzing back and forth to the cargo pods like bees going in and out of a hive.
The thought brought to mind a stunted tree on the edge of his father’s farm, where a colony of wild bees had set up a nest one year. He remembered running past the tree as a child, then pausing to investigate the buzzing noise and seeing the comb they were building in the hollow trunk. It fascinated him and he revisited it at regular intervals to watch the bees at work. There were flowering weeds bordering the field that summer but his father ploughed them up and the bees never returned. He was surprised how vivid the memory was after all this time. He felt like someone who’d been reincarnated and then recalled a tiny fragment of their previous existence.
Many of the shuttle pilots who would be delivering cargo to the E-class had been contemporaries of his at the Academy, the cadets who’d graduated while he was in prison. He wondered whether they knew their former colleague Dan Larssen would be captaining the gigantic craft itself. If they did, how would they react? Surprise, certainly; he could still hardly believe it himself. Jealousy? Possibly – it was a fine command for any pilot to have. But a lot would depend on where the freighter was going. Judging by the secrecy so far, that was something they would not be told about.
He didn’t even know himself.
32
Dan was sitting at the table in the Mission Overview Office, which as usual was strewn with papers, when he had an unexpected visitor. He recognized the man who’d chaired the panel at his last interview. He rose uncertainly.
“How are the preparations going, Larssen?”
“Very well, Dr Trebus. There’s still quite a bit to do but everyone’s working hard. Most of the cargo’s waiting at the warehouses now.”
“Good, good. I expect you’d like to know where you’re taking it.”
Dan felt a flutter of excitement mixed with trepidation. He suppressed it – he should have been given this information long ago. “It would be nice.”
Trebus inclined his head slightly, a sign that he’d noted the mild sarcasm.
“Look, you were told it was long-haul. That was all we were at liberty to tell you up to now. There’s a security blanket on this entire mission. Security is still vital, but you have to be in the loop some time and from my point of view the sooner the better.” He smiled. “We’re relying on your total discretion.”
That word again. Every time someone uses that word, I get into deep shit.
Trebus seemed to be waiting for some sort of answer.
“Understood.”
“Okay. Saturn.”
“Saturn?”
“Yes.”
Trebus sat down at the table. Dan started to clear a space for him but he dismissed the need for that with a wave and pointed to the seat opposite.
“I know. You’re wondering why we want you to fly a thousand million miles across the solar system to a planet we can’t possibly colonize.”
“It crossed my mind.”
“Well, first let’s be clear about the objective. Your job will be to rendezvous with an Orbiting Station that the Agency put there last year. You’ll be given precise coordinates, of course, but it’s in a near circular orbit between Rhea and Titan.”
Dan racked his brains but he couldn’t remember anything about a station orbiting Saturn. Last year? Perhaps he’d been too busy drinking and gambling.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not sure I ever heard about this Orbiting Station.”
“I hope not. It’s classified.”
A distant alarm bell sounded in Dan’s brain.
Trebus continued. “I’ll explain, shall I?”
“Please.”
“A couple of years ago SpaceFreight got a nice juicy contract from the Agency. They wanted the parts for an Orbiting Station and a Deep Space Observatory put in Earth orbit and they wanted it done in a hurry. The company commissioned United Dynamics to make an exact copy of the Mars Orbiting Station, and Sorensen Martin to do the same for the Deep Space Observatory. Our job was to coordinate with the other companies, transport the sub-assemblies and all the equipment to the launch pads and then put them in a designated Earth orbit. There wasn’t a tendering process, but that was understandable in a way; they were just asking the three of us to duplicate projects we’d all done before. Did you know we put both the Mars Orbiting Station and the Mars Observatory in orbit?”
“I didn’t but it doesn’t surprise me. There aren’t too many outfits that can handle something that big.”
“That’s right, there aren’t. Like I say, it was a nice juicy contract for us. So we signed up to it and soon afterwards the President of the United States made an announcement about launching a Deep Space Observatory that could deal with Earth-crossing asteroids.”
“Asteroids?”
“It was a major issue at the time. We learned that Earth had a tr
uly excellent chance of being hit by one of these things and the public got really stirred up about it. People were demanding action. Don’t you remember all this? It was about two years ago.”
Two years ago? Oh yes, that would be shortly after I was arrested with a freighter full of Dramatoin.
“I had a few problems of my own around that time. Do go on.”
Trebus rested his elbows on the table and clasped his hands. Even when he wasn’t speaking, his thin lips were quite mobile, as if he were trying to suppress a smile.
“Administrations get surprisingly sensitive to public opinion in an election year, and obviously the President’s announcement was in response to public anxiety. We assumed he was referring to the project we were involved in. We couldn’t see how it would solve the asteroid problem, but that was none of our business. We left the stuff part-assembled in Earth orbit and our responsibility ended there. We were more or less certain the Agency would be transporting it all to some other destination but apparently that wasn’t any of our business either. In fact everyone was being very cagey about the entire operation.”
“Was that usual?”
“No, very unusual for an civilian project. Normally there’d be a lot of publicity for something like that. Not this time. Certainly we weren’t being told the whole story, and whatever we were told we weren’t allowed to reveal to anyone else. It was more like working for the Department of Defense than for the Agency. We didn’t find out why until a couple of months ago.
“It seems the Department of Defense was involved after all. The Orbiting Station and the Deep Space Observatory had been assembled and placed in an orbit around Saturn. Now they could identify and track Earth-crossing asteroids at an early stage – but that was only part of it. What they wanted to do was blow these objects to pieces – small pieces, one hopes – or steer them into Saturn or Jupiter, or nudge them into a safer orbit.”
“Using what?”
“A variety of explosive projectiles. Nothing fancy. Up-to-the minute and powerful, but nothing out of the ordinary.”
“So is that what I’ll be taking out there?”
“Yes. That won’t be all, of course. There’ll be other cargo: construction materials, instruments, machinery, spares, tools, fuel, provisions for the crew of the Orbiting Station—”
“Of course, it would have to be manned. Is the crew in place?”
“Yes. At least, it will be shortly. Obviously we’ll confirm their arrival before you leave. Space Fleet flew them out.”
“How do you recruit people for a job like that? Same way as you did me?”
“No need for that. Don’t forget: this Orbiting Station is ideally placed to study Saturn and its rings. And from a base like that you can launch manned and unmanned probes to study satellites like Titan and Rhea. The scientists are so excited by all the new things they’re going to discover that they’re either oblivious to the dangers or prepared to overlook them. The military personnel aren’t a problem. So far as they’re concerned being paid four times the normal rate to shoot at something that can’t shoot back is as good a posting as they’re ever likely to get.”
“There’s a military presence?”
“Yes. They probably thought it was safer than putting scientists in charge of weapons. I must say I have some sympathy for that view.”
Dan pondered this for a moment. “Okay, so the Station is already crewed with a full complement, civilian and military. What about this flight? Will I have a hand in recruiting my crew?”
“Ah, now.” Trebus steepled his fingers and touched them to his lips. He engaged Dan’s eyes. “As far as flight crew is concerned, you’re it.”
Dan looked at him blankly. Had he misheard? With a sinking feeling, he realized that he hadn’t. He spoke slowly.
“You want me to fly an E-class, the largest freighter in the fleet, to Saturn – on my own?”
“That’s right. Don’t take it personally. It’s company policy.”
“Since when?”
“Since the StarTrader disaster. You remember that, I suppose?”
“Oh I remember that all right. You lost a ship and twelve crew.”
“That’s right. It was a tragedy, but it was also very costly for the company, in compensation claims and so on. We had to take steps to restore shareholder confidence.”
“Splitting off the freight operation, for example.”
“Correct. But we also adopted this policy on crewing. Anything beyond Mars orbit goes with just a pilot. Then if things go wrong we lose a ship and one crew. It’s called risk containment.”
“Why stop there? Why not send the E-class unmanned?”
“We did consider that, but if you look at the number of instances of successful human intervention over the last twenty years it makes a pretty strong case for having at least one crew member on board. The human brain is more flexible when it comes to dealing with the unexpected. Our customers prefer it that way too, it gives them more confidence if there’s a person on board.”
Dan rubbed his temples. “Jesus.”
“Look, it’s not as bad as all that. The Flight Management software will cope with the navigation, burn durations, course monitoring, docking, and so on. It’s true you’ll have no social interaction, but we think you’re the sort of person who can cope with that. In any case you’ll be in cryosleep most of the time.”
“Suppose there’s an emergency?”
“Obviously we’ll take every precaution to see that there isn’t. Your ship will have a greatly enhanced specification. For example, it’s been fitted with a distributed nervous system: a computer in every cargo hold, all networked. If one computer drops out – or gets knocked out – it’ll be bypassed and things will carry on as before. In theory you could fly the whole thing on just one of those computers, though I hope it wouldn’t come to that. It’s the same with all the other systems: fully redundant, fail-safe engineering design of every single system and component.”
“What, including the engines?”
“No, of course not. You can’t duplicate the APUs and the big plasma drives. But they’re pretty reliable anyway.”
Dan nodded slowly. Something was still bothering him. “This cargo: I thought there was a law against military deployment in space.”
“There is. The Convention on the Militarization of Space.”
“Well, won’t I be breaking the law by taking weapons out there?”
“No. It’s a technicality. Our lawyers advise us that it wouldn’t be illegal to be carrying weapons in bonded crates. It’s only illegal if they’re deployed and potentially capable of being used.”
“Okay, but they will be deployed at the other end.”
“Yes, but you won’t be responsible for that. It explains all the secrecy, of course. I expect an exemption will be sought at some stage, but these things can drag on for years and the outcome can never be certain. Let’s just say it was politically expedient to act more quickly than that. Without wishing to labour the point, you may have noticed that the President was re-elected.”
Dan smiled at the man’s cynicism. “You’re being remarkably candid, Dr Trebus. I’m not saying I don’t appreciate that – I do – but I wonder why you’re telling me all this.”
“You’re going out to equip that station. Regardless of what the President may have announced, it won’t actually be operational until you get there with your cargo, so you’re the key to the whole operation. You’ll know very well what you’re carrying. You’ll also see who’s doing the unloading at the other end. You’re an intelligent man, you’ll put some of it together, maybe a lot of it. But I wanted you to have the full picture, because you’re more of a security risk if you have only bits and pieces and maybe start to draw the wrong conclusions. I’ve levelled with you – probably gone much further than some people would have liked – so that you can see just how serious it would be, not just for the President and the nation but for international relations, if it came out that we were establ
ishing a military presence in space.”
“I see. I’ll have to be careful what I say, then. Is Hal Lewis in the loop?”
“Yes, as Senior Controller of Operations we had to bring him in.”
“I get the impression I’m the last to know.”
He smiled. “That’s right. After all, you’re only flying the thing. Good luck, Larssen.”
He got up and Dan did the same. They shook hands and Dr John Trebus left the office.
33
In another few weeks preparations for the flight would be complete. The time was fast approaching when Dan would have to go out to the Orbital Dock to supervise the loading of the freighter. After that there could be no return to Earth prior to launch. If he was ever going to contact Neraya it had to be now. That realization threw his mind into turmoil.
How would she react? She would have seen the outcome of the Rostov case in the media, known that Dan had been released, yet once again he’d failed to get in touch with her. Had she interpreted that as indifference and given up on him? If so, he could hardly blame her. It had taken a lot of courage to visit him in prison. In return he’d neglected her shamefully.
Perhaps she preferred it that way. The last time she cast eyes on him he was a sorry sight: feeble-bodied, depressed, a man without a future. Why should she want to associate herself with a no-hoper like that?
Associate herself? Why was he even thinking in those terms, as if they had some sort of relationship? She’d been a loyal friend. He had no reason to believe her feelings ran any deeper than that. She probably had a stable partner by now. He tried to tell himself that it was all right, that he’d extend the hand of friendship to any lucky man she’d found happiness with.
It wasn’t all right; it was almost too painful to contemplate.
Saturn Run (The Planetary Trilogy Book 1) Page 16