The use of her first name startled her beyond anything that he’d intuited. He never called her anything but Doctor, or Dr Burnett. Good God, did the man have feelings for her – other than professional?
“Let it go, Arch. Just take your severance, go and have a good life somewhere else.”
She could see he wasn’t about to take her advice. He got that determined look in his eyes that she used to appreciate. But not now.
“You lied to me, Christy.”
Again her first name.
“How so?”
“We’re flying, not taking the train. Do you think I’m a fool? This other contract with them – you’ve made a breakthrough, and you haven’t told me, but Westorn is so excited that we rate VIP travel. Not much of a contract? You consider this one so dangerous that you can’t draw me in – not in good conscience. But you need me.”
He paused to give her a chance to speak. She didn’t take it. Damn him for being right – and perceptive. Why couldn’t he just accept being fired at face value and get on with a nice, long, unexciting life? Exciting, she could tell him, wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
“Well,” he continued, “if they’ve perverted your research, then they’ve perverted mine, and I want to see them stopped. I want us to be able to continue, and do good for people. I’m in.”
She rounded on him. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying? No, no you don’t. This is no game, Arch. Go home. Find someone. Live your life.” She had an idea. “You want to follow up on my research? Good. Do that. Take my institute. I’ll sign it over to you. You can use it to do those experiments you’ve been on me about.”
That shook him. “You’re joking.”
“No, Arch, no I’m not. I’m closing it down. I’m finished. You want it; it’s yours.” Why not? She could never come back to Earth – not while Westorn lived, and she had no intention of killing him herself, and doubted that those she strove to aid could do it. Besides, she’d have to see him and all those he’d indoctrinated using her techniques dead before she could again feel safe, before she wouldn’t have to look over her shoulder all the time, to see if death awaited her there. Arch could take over, could make what she’d left into a legacy for her.
“I was right. You’re leaving Earth – forever,” he said, certainty in his voice. “What have they done?”
“Don’t you have the intelligence to just leave it alone?” She almost pleaded with him.
He gave a little laugh. “No, I guess I don’t. It’s not in my nature. That’s why I’m a scientist; I don’t give up, and I see experiments through to their end.”
With the roar of the engines outside, creating an ambient noise that made it just about impossible for others to listen in, she gave up and told him what she knew. Once he knew the true dangers, he’d take what she offered him. He’d be able to conduct that experiment he’d spent so many hours toying with.
“Soldier-fanatics? That’s like something out of a bad science-fiction vid.”
She nodded. “But this is no vid. And they will kill. If they find out what I’ve done, what I have planned, they will kill me.”
“And what have you planned? You’d better tell me, because I’m going with you – we are going up to one of the stations, aren’t we?”
“There’s no ‘we’, Arch. Yes, I’m going up. You’re staying here – living out a life, a real life.”
And that finished it, until the roar from the engines subsided and they began their descent. Then he brought it up again.
“You give me too little credit. It’s my research, too. You couldn’t have gotten as far as you did without me, so that makes me part of this. Why would you think that I could live with this? Why would you think that I could stand by and see these innocent men and women die because of what we – and yes, there is a ‘we’ – did? Oh, I’m in – and all the way. We’ll close the Institute, delete all our research or, better, take it with us. Have you thought what it could buy us from, say, the Families?”
And that was something that she hadn’t considered. Yes, it might buy them a spot in space – somewhere Westorn couldn’t touch them.
And, suddenly, she realized that she had used the word ‘them’ – both she and Arch. So, she had decided subconsciously already. Fighting it would be a losing cause, and she knew it, for she knew herself well.
“Okay, Arch. We’ll do that. But you have to know that if we’re caught, we’ll either be killed or imprisoned. Helping deserters is a federal crime.”
“But it’s the right thing to do; the only moral thing to do.”
And what could she say to that?
* * *
NEW YORK
Friday, August 6th
Christy looked at her bank statement. The Army had paid promptly and fully. That certainly helped.
She then worked through the correspondence that had come in. Nothing important. Because the Army had an optional extension, she had scheduled nothing for the month following the expiration of the contract. That, she had reserved for a bit of a holiday for both herself and Arch. The rest of the staff knew what to do, and had kept the daily business going, accepting applicants and running them through the language courses.
“We need to take care of them,” Arch said, as he peered over her shoulder. “They don’t deserve to find themselves suddenly without jobs. We can’t close the Institute. Besides, it does do good work.”
“I agree. Look, the Institute – even without outside contracts – operates at a profit. I’ll just turn operations over to Tamara. Give her full authority and promote her to CEO – not that she hasn’t been doing that job all along. And we’ll leave enough for a three-month severance package for each of the employees.”
Arch sat down.
“Tell them the truth,” he suggested.
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “What?”
“Tell them that we’ve accepted another contract – an open-ended one – and we don’t know when we’ll return. They’ve run the Institute without you for years now, leaving us free to do the research. Anything you’ve done ‘hands-on’ hasn’t really required your personal intervention – with the exception of updating the protocols.”
She had to laugh at that. “So, you’ve all just been humouring me?”
“More or less.” And he looked perfectly serious. “You built the Institute from the ground up, Christy. So, it’s no wonder that you want to keep your finger on things, but it hasn’t been necessary for a long time. You hired good, competent people.”
Christy sighed. “Yeah, I’ve known that subconsciously for a long time. So, I just increase Tamara’s authority, and let her go on. But we remove all the new research from the computers. We don’t want it misused.”
“Assuming that we haven’t already had our system compromised.”
“No, we haven’t – unless they did it physically. I’m not stupid. I never connected those computers to the ’Net. Any transfer to a connected computer had to be done via datastick.”
Two hours later, Tamara Strickland knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Christy invited her.
“Dr Burnett, good to have you back.” The genuine smile warmed Christy through. She had picked good people. “You wanted to see me?”
“I have some good news and some bad news, Tamara.”
The smile faded just a little.
“First, you’re promoted to CEO – effective immediately.” She enjoyed the sudden flush of pleasure she saw come over the other woman’s face. “That’s full authority. Hiring, firing, equipment purchases, lease renewal, everything.”
Tamara’s eyes snapped to her face. “You’re leaving.”
“That’s the bad news – if you can call it that. Arch and I have accepted an open-ended contract that will see us gone for the foreseeable future. We’re starting with a research term in space on Topside One. We need Zero-g to refine some of the stuff we did on the last contract. We may even – if required – travel out of the system. S
o, we won’t be available at all. You’re on your own.”
“That’s wonderful – no, no, not that … well, you know. But to go into space? It’ll be an adventure.”
“Yes, an adventure.” She didn’t bother to crush Tamara’s illusions. Adventures weren’t all they were cracked up to be. They tended to be dangerous and even life-threatening – occasionally life-ending. “So, are you good to go?”
“Well,” Tamara admitted, “I’ve been thinking of…” She stopped as Christy held up her hand.
“Which part of ‘full authority’ don’t you understand?” She laughed at Tamara’s expression of sudden realization. “And,” she continued, “if you run the business into the ground – them’s the breaks. I’ll just build a new business back up again when I return.”
Tamara began to shake her head. “I wouldn’t do anything that risky, Dr Burnett.”
“I know. And I’ve left some final instructions as to disposition of certain funds – no, not anything that you have to worry about. But if things go really wrong while we’re away, I want to make sure that you and the other employees have a cushion.”
She opened the file, and went through it with Tamara. Two hours later, all the necessary forms signed and registered, she stood. “It’s all yours. I’m sitting in your office, now, so I’ll just take myself away. Enjoy.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“It’s done,” she told Arch from the doorway to his office. “If you’ve finished, we’re out of here.”
“I’ve scrubbed the research; there’s no way anyone could recover it.” He held out several datasticks. “Don’t lose these. If you do, it’s all gone forever.”
She took the sticks reverentially. So. Done. Now to close out her condo. She had set up an automatic payment for the management fees – which would last until the account ran dry – in a couple of years. If she could come back, she would.
She looked around and did a few minor things, but it didn’t take much, as she had already basically closed it out before heading for Denver.
She had always lived rather spartanly, and there remained little that she didn’t feel comfortable leaving behind. She downloaded all her books to her portable, and then, with a feeling of reluctance, did a compete wipe of her home computer. Only the operating system remained. Well, whoever eventually received the beast would have themselves quite a machine.
She glanced at the chrono. She still had two hours, so she lay down on her bed for what might prove the last time, set the alarm and allowed herself to drift off to sleep.
The alarm rang, and she dressed quickly, picked up her luggage and headed for the door. She very carefully avoided looking behind her as she stepped into the hall. She locked the door, and began the long walk down the hall. She had given up on ever coming back, headed into the future without knowing where she might end up, without knowing what awaited her. Her stomach felt empty. She walked on, feeling utterly lost.
“There you are.”
Christy looked up to see Arch waiting beside a taxi that he had hired.
“Get in.”
“Do you feel as lost as I do?” she asked, as she took her place beside him.
“Pretty much. Thank God I’m not married or in a relationship.”
And she hadn’t even known that about him. She’d worked with him for five years, and he’d never mentioned his home life. She’d never mentioned hers, either, but then she really didn’t have a home life. Her research consumed her.
“I’ve got the tickets to Spaceport,” he told her. “We’re flying again.”
“Lucky us. I think I’d rather go by train.”
“We wouldn’t make lift-off,” he replied. Then his voice lowered a register. “Oh, by the way, I’ve left a surprise behind.”
She turned to him, wondering what that might be, and why that would entail such a harsh tone.
“Yes?”
“If we don’t call in to a certain number and enter a password, our story will go to all the news outlets, and be pasted all over the ’Net, and sent to every association we belong to. Colonel Westorn and his program will be outed all over the place.”
“Good God! And what if we’re still within his reach when that happens?”
“Then,” he said wryly, I think we’ll be in a modicum of trouble. But I’ve set it up so that it gets disseminated three weeks after the last missed call. Thus, we just have to make a call once every six weeks and leave a message with the codeword embedded in. So, for instance, we might leave a message saying, ‘Hi Aunt Flora, We’re just reporting in. We’re still in good health and enjoying our time on Topside One.’ The word ‘time’ is the codeword. It could be embedded into almost any message.”
Christy stared at him. “How did you think that up?”
“I used something similar once for more personal reasons. It’s not hard to set up.” He handed over a datastick with the address on it. “Don’t lose it. Oh, if necessary, we can send a codeword to cancel the dissemination of the story or change the lag time after the last missed call.”
There didn’t seem much more to say, so they remained silent the rest of the way to the airport. They didn’t speak on the aircraft, and it landed at Spaceport without incident. There, they found an army liaison officer waiting for them.
“Drs Burnett and Grant?”
“That’s us,” Christy confirmed.
“I’m Captain Plinkett. Come with me please.”
“Our luggage–”
“Already taken care of.”
“Wonderful. Lead on, Captain.” And with the feeling of someone walking knowingly into a trap, Christy took a deep breath and followed the military man through the maze of people to a waiting vehicle. Sure enough, their luggage awaited them.
“This everything?” Plinkett asked.
She counted the bags. “All mine there.” She smiled for the captain.
“And mine,” confirmed Arch.
“Excellent. Let’s go.”
They had just committed themselves, and Christy felt a shiver go up her back. Her smile faded as she followed Plinkett.
EIGHTEEN
AZORES
Saturday, August 7th
Karl Müller stood on the rocks, looking over the ocean. He heard footsteps coming up behind him, and smiled. Then the smile disappeared. Erika had duty at the moment. He turned to see Oberst Dreschler approaching.
“You spend much time here, Müller,” he opened the conversation. “I wonder what you see?”
“Nature, Herr Oberst. Each day I must think that this may be the last day I see it.” He looked again out over the ocean, and when he returned his gaze to Dreschler’s face, he allowed anger to show through. “The North Americans must pay for taking away our peace.”
Dreschler canted his head to the right. “At first, Herr Major, I believed that you wished to run away from the fighting when you asked for a transfer.” He nodded to himself, “But when you became involved with Baumeister, I knew better. You simply wanted to be where she was. Well and good. I understand.”
You understand nothing, Herr Oberst.
Instead, he said, “We – Frau Major Baumeister and myself – shall teach the Nord-Amis a lesson.” He narrowed his eyes as if a thought had come to him. “Did you wish to speak of our liaison?”
Dreschler laughed. “No. I approve. I further approve that you have divested yourself of the company of Old Paulo. I worried for a time; I shouldn’t have. No, I wish to speak of Oberleutnant Kelner.”
“I have spoken with him. He knows his duty.”
“He still makes bad choices in town.”
“I do not allow him that pleasure often.”
Again came the cold smile. “No, you don’t. You do not wish me to transfer him to another shuttle-fighter?”
Did the man probe for weakness?
“He will obey orders – or he will be shot. I will not knowingly send a weak man for some other commander to deal with. But I do not fe
ar; he will obey.”
“Good, good.” Dreschler took in a deep breath. “Perhaps you have the right of it. The open air heals.”
Dreschler allowed that healing air to escape in a sigh, then turned about. “It comes soon, Müller. I can feel it.” He walked away.
Had he come out to see if Müller was up to the situation? Had he discovered that his flight commander had topped off the shuttle’s supplies and wondered why? Had Müller’s vehement attack on the Americans convinced him? Too many questions and no answers. But he and Erika would need to remain careful.
Müller returned his gaze to the ocean and tried to regain the tranquility that Oberst Dreschler had caused him to lose.
* * *
SPACEPORT, USNA
Saturday, August 7th
Spaceport hummed with activity. Christy and Arch looked around like stereotypical tourists until their liaison came back to them from a comm booth, and ushered them to the proper departure hall.
“Where’s Colonel Westorn?” she asked. The colonel, as she had suspected, had made arrangements to leave Denver to accompany them to Topside One.
“He’s supervising the loading of your cargo, Doctor,” Captain Plinkett told her. “Come this way.”
She and Arch followed him across the wide floor of the main departure building to the slidewalk. They stepped on it, and were shuttled quite speedily to the other end of the building. Arch nudged her, and tilted his head to the side, indicating more soldiers.
She looked around, noticing that a lot of men and women in uniform stood about, or marched in groups. Outside of the base in Denver, she had never seen so many in one place at one time. Why here? Why now? Surely they couldn’t all be going up as test subjects.
Captain Plinkett didn’t seem to see anything amiss. He simply efficiently herded them into the appropriate room, where she recognized Sergeant Jensen. She didn’t take note of him, but did see another of her old test subjects there, Sergeant Rogers. She blinked. Rogers had been one of her successes – top of his intake. What did his presence mean? His attention seemed to be on the other ‘recruits’, those who were going up for advanced training – her people. She didn’t like the way he looked at them.
Not With A Whimper: Destroyers Page 13