“Really. I got shot,” Edison said, shrugging with his good shoulder.
“Did you shoot him?” she said, stepping up and pulling the neck of his coverall to the side to look at his arm.
“Somebody was waiting for us and he got off a couple shots before Ryk went caveman and pounded his brains out with a rock,” Saf said. “I had them take the body over to genmatch and told them stay until it’s ID’d.”
“Trust me, he’s in a lot worse shape than I am,” he said. “Sore and breathing is better than dead and anything.”
“He’s awake,” Nisreen said, interrupting as she appeared at the door to Ariqat’s room. “He’s weak and disoriented so go easy when you question him.”
“I’ll go in with you,” Tana offered. “He knows both of us and seeing a familiar face might help.”
“Just keep it short for now,” Dr. Sokat said. “He’ll be lucky to stay awake for more than a few minutes. He’s still on heavy neuroblockers for pain.”
“I’ll watch his vitals while we’re in there,” Tana said. “We’ll stop if he starts down.” She looked at Edison and nodded toward the door.
“I am not back on Galileo yet?” Ariqat asked as they walked into his room. The chancellor looked far more alert than Edison would have expected.
“No,” Edison said, walking up to the bed. Tana stayed a step behind him and was keeping her eyes on the wall display over his bed. “Do you know where you are?”
“I was on Mars. I think,” he said.
“You still are,” Tana said.
He nodded.
“Do you know where you have been?” he asked.
“In a prison, maybe.” His heart rate shot up. “It was clean like a hospital.”
“How did you get here? To Mars?”
“I don’t remember. How long have I been gone?”
“A long time,” Edison said. “Do you know who brought you here?”
He shook his head and his pulse ratcheted up again. Is he lying? Edison wondered as he glanced over his shoulder at Tana. She nodded, confirming that her thoughts leaned in the same direction.
“Why are you on Mars?” Ariqat asked
“Things have changed since you disappeared,” he said
“What about my wives? My children?”
Edison sat down on a stool beside his bed. “The last I knew, they were alright, but I’ve been out of touch with Galileo for a while.”
“They need to know I am alive,” he said.
“Like I said, things have changed,” Edison said.
“Changed how? What is going on?”
“The Union has … fallen apart.”
“Paulson Lassiter has taken over?” Ariqat asked.
“Derek Tomlinson is in charge,” he said. Paulson Lassiter? He shot Tana another questioning glance.
The chancellor shook his head again, his eyes darting back and forth as if he tried to fit pieces into some imaginary puzzle that only he could see. “Tomlinson was a minor player.”
“Player in what?” she asked.
“Something big enough to risk this.” He closed his eyes, and a breath caught in his throat. “I know it was Lassiter. I remember hearing his voice while …”
A red light flashed on the monitor screen above his bed. Tana tapped his arm to get his attention and shook her head.
“Do you know why they kidnapped you?” Edison asked.
“You mean rather than just kill me?”
“Uhm, sure,” he said.
“I think they had plans to make me take a fall,” he said. A second red light started blinking and Tana nudged him again.
“For what?” he asked.
“Murdering Katryna Roja,” he said.
“They tried, but she’s hard to kill,” Tana said. Edison shot her a quizzical look. Apparently, she also knew.
“Is she still alive?” Ariqat asked. “If she is, I need to talk to her.”
“Why?”
“She is in grave danger,” he hissed.
“Chancellor Roja is safely beyond his reach,” Edison said.
“Nowhere is beyond Lassiter’s reach,” Ariqat said. His pulse shot up another time and a third light started blinking on the display. “I need to speak with Roja.”
“Why?” Tana asked.
“She is the enemy of the man who has now become my enemy,” he said as pain focused him on his thought and he locked eyes with Edison. “I know she was the only one Lassiter feared, so I must talk to her.”
“That’s not possible,” he said.
“If she doesn’t want to be facing a war fleet, then it needs to be made possible.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Personal Quarters of the Executive Director: Galileo Station:
Derek sat with his feet up on the table, drinking his way through his third brandy. He felt somewhat anesthetized and he leaned back with his eyes closed listening to the evening newswave from New Hope City. Yesterday he’d ordered the mental rape of the one person he had ever considered a friend, and this morning they’d carried out his orders. It was still more emotionally raw than he could accept. He hadn’t heard if Paulson had regained consciousness yet. He wasn’t sure whether it might be better if Lassiter never came back.
Punching up the volume he listened as a news commentator narrated a report on the new outbreak of riots in NHC and Underhive. “Security forces under the direction of Hew Hope City Mayor Rachelle Pallassano have begun removing members of the population, and businesses loyal to the New Union Government of Director Derek Tomlinson. The security sweeps commenced this morning in response to an unannounced executive order signed in a closed session of the city council sometime yesterday evening.
“Experts with knowledge of government security procedures say, judging from the size and the organization level of the operation, it is clear that this is a well planned action with substantial logistic support. The objective of this roundup is unknown as the Mayor’s Office has declined to comment. Pallassano’s Chief of Staff has just announced a media conference at 1930 hours today. We will provide complete coverage of the conference as it happens.”
Derek glanced at his chrono. About five minutes.
What is she thinking?
“There is a high probability that she expects a war. This sentiment seems to be prevalent in many of the LEO colonies, as well,” Odysseus said through his link.
She’s rounding up people she thinks are loyal to us and doing what with them? he thought, frowning as he was reminded again that any question he formed even in the back of his mind was an invitation for Odysseus to intrude.
She is sending them to Tokyo Commons and Tokyo Down Under. She has conscripted all shuttles on the looplines to transport those she is evicting, it said. She has troops standing watch in both terminal complexes to maintain order.
“Troops?” he said, switching back to voice with intent.
“Yes. These do not look to be normal security units,” it said. “Although it is impossible to tell their training, they are armed well above legal levels for law enforcement.”
“Where did she get them?” he asked.
“I have verified that many of them came from Tsiolkovskiy Freeport. They may be FleetCom personnel.”
“She’s planning to join their resistance,” he said.
“That is possible. New Hope City was predominantly WellCartel and the alliance between Tana Drake and Katryna Roja is strong.”
“It would be unfortunate if they declared independence,” Derek said, staring at the brandy in his hand.
“We should challenge them,” it said. “You have both DevCartel Security and Union Standard Security units still in place in New Hope City.”
“There aren’t enough there to stop the evictions,” he said, shaking his head.
“No, but if it made the process slow and was highly visible would that not serve your purpose as well?” Odysseus said. “The idea would not be to stop the process, but rather to make FleetCom and those that join them look
to be the aggressors. If they are seen violating the civil rights of the ones they are evicting, it may generate spontaneous support for resisting the resistance.”
“You’re suggesting we make enough noise to confuse the reality,” he said.
“Correct. The majority of the population is unaligned and would take the side of those that represent the least turmoil,” it said. “If Mayor Pallassano is shown to be operating in a way that is contrary to stability, then they may be swayed. However, this resistance to her action needs to occur quickly so as to look like an organic response to her dictatorial and unilateral decision to remove people unlawfully from their livelihood.”
“You sound like Paulson,” he said, flashing to a memory of how they had often talked about this very kind of thing.
“I am completing the analysis of his BES,” it said. “He had many valid ideas regarding the actions of political bodies.”
Derek gulped down the last swallow of brandy and walked over to the bar signaling the autovalet to pour another. “So was it worth it then? To rape him like that?”
“Yes,” it said. “I have gained access to the command codes for the fleet.”
“What will you do with them now?” he asked.
“I have ordered a portion of those forces to provide security in Zone One,” it said.
Turning back around, Derek glanced at the wallscreen. The media conference was just beginning. Mayor Pallassano stood behind a large lectern. A group of people stood around her, watching her as she prepared to speak.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the media, and citizens of New Hope City, indeed, everyone in the Union who may be listening,” She paused, clearing her throat. “Today the leaders of New Hope City have taken a bold step toward a better future. A step that Tsiolkovskiy Freeport and all of FleetCom have already taken. Last night we voted to follow the example of their leadership, and to declare that we will remain solid and independent of tyranny.
“Today, New Hope City formally joins the resistance against those that have illegally seized power over our government. We will stand shoulder to shoulder beside our brothers and sisters to bring about an end to this criminal assault on our right to a free and peaceful existence.”
She stopped and squared her stance, looking squarely into the optic. “Derek Tomlinson, I hope you are watching tonight as we cast off your shackles, and cast out those who would support you in your wrongful coup. Know this, Mister Tomlinson: We will not rest until you no longer occupy the venerated halls of our sacred institutions. Your power is fleeting, and we are coming for you.”
The screen faded to black before the face of a commentator appeared, shock playing over her nearly perfect features.
“Sound off,” Derek growled, silencing the newswave before he was forced to listen to the brainless analysis of yet another pointless pretty-face.
“How soon did you say you could get the fleet here?”
Katana: Main Hangar Facility: Robinson: Western Athabasca Valles, Mars:
Edison leaned back in the chair and rubbed gently at the sore muscles around his wound. It ached more than anything, but the dermabond itched and was making him more than a little crazy, too. Over the course of the afternoon, he’d spent several hours talking to Ariqat as his strength came back.”
“He is adamant that he needs to talk to Chancellor Roja,” he said. “Problem is I don’t know if it can be done.”
“Do you know where she is?” Tana asked.
“Maybe,” he said, “but Jaxton Quintana holds the gate for her. We have to get him to push a message through. Without him we’ve got no way to make it happen.”
“Is what Tamir knows enough to make it worth pushing?” Tana asked.
He shrugged with his good shoulder. “Probably. If he is right, and he knows what’s going on with the ghost fleet, then that alone would be worth it in my mind.”
“So we tell Quintana what Ariqat’s got and he’ll make the right decision,” Tana said.
“There’s a problem with that,” Saf said. “Signal leakage.”
“What?
“We’re about 180 million kilometers from earth right now,” she said. “At that range, even a narrow beam will be kilometers wide on their end. Anything going down system cannot be secure.”
“You think you are a hot rock as far as Tomlinson and Odysseus are concerned? Imagine what kind of chaos happens if word gets out who’s here,” Edison said. “You might carry the Odysseus part of the equation, and I had other pieces, but what he has is the absolute ability to start a full on war.”
“How do you figure?” Tana said.
“One of the other things he told me was that there are only two people in the Union who have command authority over the ghost fleet. Paulson Lassiter and Tamir bin Ariqat,” he said. “If Lassiter is part of the power behind the throne, Ariqat is his weak spot. That’s why he dropped him in a hole. And if the size of the fleet is as big as he claims, when it does enter the field, I don’t know if even Odysseus could stop it.”
“You’re being melodramatic,” Tana said.
He shook his head. “According to things the admiral and I discussed, the entirety of FleetCom combat capable ships is only a hundred or so multicruisers. If Ariqat’s not exaggerating, he’s talking over a thousand ships in this ghost fleet. That would be enough firepower to disassemble Galileo in a matter of minutes.”
“And Ariqat controls this?” Tana asked, her face showing her struggle to assimilate the idea.
“He has the command codes,” Edison said.
“What’s to say Lassiter hasn’t changed them?”
“He said they’d set it up to be almost impossible for one of them to do alone. But the real question is why would Lassiter need to? He had the only other person who could use them under his control,” he said.
“But he has to know Ariqat’s escaped,” Tana said.
Edison shook his head and looked over at Saf. “What didn’t you see at the mining camp?”
She frowned for several seconds before her eyes lit up. “A deep com dish!”
“Exactly. Ariqat took it out when he blew up the power shed,” he said. “He told me that was one of his objectives. He was thinking it would keep them from calling in search parties. The point is it also would have kept them from letting Lassiter know their package had walked out.”
“So if he’s willing to turn on the people that turned on him—”
“That makes him the most valuable secret weapon FleetCom could have,” he finished for her.
“How do we get Quintana to push this uphill without telling him what we’re sitting on?” Tana said.
“I think I have to figure out how to get him a message that says enough, but not too much. If we get lucky, maybe he will say yes.”
“What if he says no?” Saf asked.
“Then we keep at it until we come up with another option.”
Unaligned Fleet Command: Centaur-Thereus:
Commodore Carlton Atwater sat at his console staring at a performance report. He had a small staff of real people, and a huge responsibility. He maintained the operations base of the Unaligned Fleet and would be in command of the fleet itself if it was ever deployed in any serious way. Atwater had graduated from the Tsiolkovskiy FleetCom Command School and worked his way up through the ranks in support facilities management until he had retired one step short of an Admiral.
He deserved the title and yet they had passed him over, even at the moment of his retirement. Politics had crushed the possibility of an admiral’s pension and he felt betrayed by those who had never seen his true potential.
Now he sat atop the largest single fleet ever assembled, bent on someday leveling things with the Admiralty of FleetCom. His armada was scrap parts, cobbled together from rusting hulks of cast off hardware. But he knew, because of sheer numbers alone, what it would be capable of when it was time to put it into service.
Watching the newswaves from down-system, made it clear the time was coming. He’
d ordered his ship commanders to begin drilling for combat. He always kept his fleet at alert ready as occasionally a few ships at a time were ordered into service for clandestine operations. The raid on L-2 had been one such instance. Though it had not been a success he knew that now, with the Union in shambles, it was only a matter of time.
“Commodore, we have more deployment orders coming in.” His Com Officer interrupted the performance report.
“Another deployment already?”
“Yes sir, it’s decrypting and the command codes authenticate.”
“I expect we’ll be sending ships to Zone One,” he said. They’d recently sent a battle group inward for peacekeeping operations, but maybe they were contemplating something more aggressive to get control.
“It’s a video file and trajectory routing orders,” she said, her voice squeaking like she was drinking nitrogen. “Frag me. This will be a major operation. It includes individual calls for 625 ships plus the command group.”
“Send it through and I’ll look at it,” he said, swinging his chair around to watch his wallscreen.
Paulson Lassiter appeared and stood stone still for several seconds. He looked exhausted, with lifeless eyes and labored breathing. It had to be the stress of what was going on down there, taking its toll.
“Commodore Atwater, this is your official activation order. I have attached detailed instructions as to what ships I want involved in this action and I expect you to follow my orders to the letter.
“The situation with former Chancellor Katryna Roja has escalated. We believe it is essential that we use the fleet to put an end to the threat she represents. Reports show the Armstrong and a small battle group have moved to a hidden base of operations and we believe they have joined a substantial fleet already waiting at that location. We need you to take these ships and her base out, at all costs.
“Because of the location of this facility, your resource cost to get there will be extremely high. You are in a prograde position relative to your target. You will need to make sure you are adequately provisioned for this engagement and the return trip once you have completed your mission.”
Redemption of Sisyphus Page 6