Her thoughts churned all through the meal.
“Going to report me?” Jensen asked, when they had finished without another word passing between them.
“You know I won’t,” she told him.
“Yeah,” he sighed, “I know. You wouldn’t want to upset things now that we’re so close.”
“True,” she said. “I also quite enjoyed it, Frank.” There. She’d called him by name. “If we weren’t where we are, doing what we’re doing, I think I’d ask you back to my room.” Gods, had she actually said that? But it was true – and no one had joined her in bed for a couple of years now.
Jensen looked like she’d just dropped a two-ton weight on his head.
“Really?”
“Yes. I’m not a romantic, Frank. And I know I’m not what most men want. But I don’t think you’re most men. Yes, I would take a chance with you.” She smiled sadly. “It probably wouldn’t work long-term, but I would take that chance.”
“Damn it, Doctor–”
“Christine.”
“Damn it, Christine, if we get out of this all in one piece, I’ll take you up on that.”
“Then you had better make sure that we get out of this all in one piece, hadn’t you?”
And the look that he gave her told her that he intended to do just that, no matter the cost. And that meant that she couldn’t fail him either. They would beat Westorn at his own game – deceit.
TWENTY
AZORES
Saturday, August 21st
They sat together on the balcony just outside the officer’s mess.
“We will not all get out in one piece,” Erika said. “The Ami fighters are too good.”
Karl Müller shook his head. “They can manoeuvre better, can accelerate faster, but our weapons will find them regardless.”
“I wish we had made it to Neu Deutschland, Karl. I want to live, and I want you to live with me.”
That seemed most unlikely. Command had issued no updates, but every shuttle pilot knew that war lurked just one fatal misjudgment away. Command had halted all training flights – for nobody knew what might set off a possible enemy. ETO Command did not want anyone to mistake its intentions.
“I wish to live, too, Erika.” He looked up at the blameless sky. “I do not foresee such an occurrence, however. The orbital battles will be ferocious. If one power launches, all will launch. None will want their fighters on the ground with potential enemies threatening their stations and satellites. Up there, stressed and anxious soldiers will make mistakes. Someone will launch a missile, and start what no one can stop.”
She gripped his hand tightly.
He felt her take a deep breath. “I think that everyone in lower orbit will die,” she said.
He tensed, then relaxed. In lower orbit? Did she mean what he thought she might mean? He dared not ask, but he considered it very carefully. Perhaps they might yet find a way to survive – at least the initial bloodbath. He needed answers, and perhaps he could get some from the new tactical program that Command had sent out.
* * *
TOPSIDE ONE
Monday, August 23rd
“I want that program,” Colonel Westorn said, after all of the men had checked out on the zero-g manoeuvre.
“Colonel, we’ve just gotten started,” Christy told him. “We have several more experiments to do, fine-tuning, et cetera.”
“I don’t care. Just give me a copy of the program in the machine – right now. I’m making an executive decision. We’re paying for this, I want it now.”
“Arch,” Christy said, “give the man what he wants.”
Arch turned to her, but she held up her hand to stop him before he started. “The man paid for it; give it to him.”
“Yes, Dr Burnett. But, Colonel, we’re not near finishing. I don’t think you’ll be happy with this.”
Westorn glared at him. “I’ll send you back to Earth on the next shuttle if I don’t get some cooperation.”
“Do it. Now,” Christy ordered.
Shaking his head, Arch complied, and handed the datastick to the Colonel. He didn’t thank them, just grabbed it, and left at speed.
“What did you do?” Arch asked in a whisper after the Colonel had left. “I thought we agreed to not give him what he wants.”
“I didn’t … and, no, you didn’t. There’s a reason I’m using you for a double-blind on my experiments. I haven’t told you exactly what I’ve done for a reason, too. You can’t give it away – and you can’t be blamed. All you know, should Westorn ask, is that I’ve given you the program, and you’re collecting the data.”
“Do you think he’ll accept that?”
“He’ll have to. He’ll come to you, and you can explain your part in these experiments fully. In fact I encourage you to go into detail. Hold nothing back. In fact, be so proud of what you’re doing that you’ll offer it to him unsolicited. He asks a question, you not only answer it, you elaborate to any extent he’ll take.”
“He’ll blow his top,” Arch warned. “And then he’ll come after you.”
“Exactly. And that’s what I want. I know what I’m doing.”
She could see that Arch didn’t believe it, but he would go along. She looked inside herself and found that she, also, did not believe that she knew what she was doing. However, if it saved Arch, she would take on Colonel Westorn alone.
* * *
Tuesday, August 24th
Colonel Westorn approached her like a thundercloud on the horizon, preparing to unleash a tornado. Christy braced herself.
“What have you done?” he demanded.
She allowed her bewildered look to surface. “I’m not sure what you mean. But, if you’re referring to the contract, I’ve followed it to the letter. I’ve logged everything I’ve done, and I’ve followed the schedule that the Army approved.
“Yes, I know that you want me to move faster, but I’m doing science here, and science moves as fast as science moves. However, Colonel Westorn, I’m still within the parameters set out by the contract guidelines.”
His face grew red. “Don’t try to weasel your way out of this. I tried that program Dr Grant gave me. It doesn’t work.”
Now Christy allowed her temper to escape, her voice to rise. “That’s a lie, Colonel Westorn, and you know it. You saw it work with your own eyes.”
“I don’t know how you did it, but you changed something – or your assistant did.”
“We changed nothing.”
“Bullshit. I’ve watched you delaying things, so I tried that program out myself. And it didn’t work.”
“You did what?” She allowed every iota of indignation she possessed to drip off her tongue. “Are you trying to sabotage my work?”
“I think you sabotaged it yourself.”
“Colonel Westorn,” she made an obvious effort to control herself. “I would like to speak to your supervisor … er, your commander. I want you replaced.”
His eyes nearly bugged out. “So you can hoodwink some newbie? Not a chance. I want answers, and I’m damned if I’m going to stop before I get them.”
Both their voices had risen in volume until they were practically shouting. Others began to notice, and heads turned their way. Christy saw that Sergeants Jensen and Rogers both had their eyes on her – one with worry, the other looking like he’d like to kill her. She abruptly lowered her voice. She couldn’t risk that Jensen and Rogers might get in a fight.
“Very well, Colonel. Ask your questions.”
“Why didn’t your program work?”
“It did. You saw it. But you say you used it on someone else. Do I have that correct? If so, upon whom did you use it – and, by the way, I don’t think you’re trained to do such a thing.”
“I had a volunteer try it out. One Private Trent.”
“I don’t know any Private Trent. He’s not a part of this experiment.” She said that quietly, calmly, expecting another explosion.
“I know. That’s why I u
sed him.” His voice had come down, too.
“And that’s why it failed.”
“Explain.”
And here it goes, you arrogant bastard, she thought. “Each program is individually moulded to its recipient. You used Sergeant Jensen’s program on Private Trent. There was about a one in one hundred chance that it would work for him, too, and even then unlikely that it would work as well. If you want a special program for Trent, I’ll have to start right back at the beginning with him. Of course, it will go a little faster, but not much – and by ‘at the beginning’, I mean back at the beginning of where we started back in Denver.”
Westorn goggled. “That’s your secret? Individualized programs?”
“Yes, and it has proved very effective, as you’ve seen. But these programs are effective for these people, but only for the purpose I’ve designed them. If I wanted to use them for language-learning, for example, they wouldn’t work.”
The blood drained from Westorn’s face.
“What I’m hoping to achieve – besides giving the Army trained personnel – is to develop a process to more readily determine the most beneficial program for any individual person.” She gave the colonel a smile that he wouldn’t see as entirely friendly. “And I can see I’m on my way to doing that. In about a year I might have it ready.”
He choked. “A year?” Then his eyes narrowed. “I want those language programs you developed for the volunteers back in Denver.”
“I don’t have them.”
He glared at her. “You don’t?”
“No. They were, you remember, only a trial to see if my new ideas would work. They did. Then I had no further use for those particular programs – so I deleted them.”
“You deleted them?” His face had returned to red; it couldn’t be good for his blood pressure. “They belonged to the Army.”
“No, they belonged to me.” Then she turned the argument around. “What the hell is this all about, anyway, Colonel? The Army will get exactly what it has contracted for. I have another 40 days to develop it. You signed off on that. So, what, exactly, is your problem with this?”
* * *
Wednesday, August 25th
“I swear to God, James, I thought he’d have a heart-attack. She tore a strip off him about a mile wide – and in front of witnesses.”
But Tieff didn’t exhibit any enthusiasm. Instead he looked rather grim. Jensen didn’t notice it. Instead, he gazed at an unlikely group to be on a space station.
“Hey, Frank, look. Farmers.”
About forty of them followed a big, officious-looking man down the concourse past where Tieff and Jensen sat enjoying a very expensive pitcher of beer. The group looked like nothing so much as a gaggle of tourists from some backward country, gawking at the sights of a city.
“How long do you think we’ll have to stay on the station?” one of them asked another. “If that Amalgamated 487 doesn’t show up, what then? Will we have to go back to Earth?”
“Ah, they’re colonists,” Jensen said. “I wonder who that big guy was.”
“Brian Richardson,” Tieff answered. “He’s a big man at Amalgamated Shipping. He didn’t look happy, did he?”
“No, he didn’t. I wouldn’t either if I had to take that lot under my wing. I wonder what happened to that ship.” He shrugged, then he returned to the former subject. “You didn’t look too happy when I told you how Christine laid into the colonel.”
“I’m not. I know you’re impressed – perhaps too impressed – with her, but she doesn’t know what she just did.”
“And what did she just do?” Jensen asked, suddenly worried for her. Tieff didn’t make statements like that lightly.
“She just told the colonel that his ideas for us would not come to fruition. That makes us liabilities instead of possible assets. If he’s as short of time as he says he is and she told him basically that he could expect no help from her, she might become a liability, too.”
“Christ. You’re right. Where are we on getting that ship?”
“You’re not going to like this.”
“I haven’t liked anything of what you’ve had to say, so far. Why should this be different?”
“Amalgamated 487 was our target.”
“And?”
“And that’s the ship that’s gone missing. Amalgamated, according to our pilot, is throwing a fit. Nothing like this has ever happened on the Io-Earth run.”
Jensen paused, glass halfway to his mouth. He slowly put it down. “If she stays missing, that leaves that Family ship we chose as backup.”
“Pissing off the Families isn’t the best thing to do, but I don’t see that we have a choice. Go around the men. Tell them we move as soon as possible – like tomorrow.”
“Day after tomorrow, more likely. That Pilot, Terry, he’s busy all day tomorrow bringing in station supplies from the Ag station.”
“Day after tomorrow, then. We have to get out of here.”
* * *
Thursday August 26th
“Oh shit. Frank, listen to what Macintosh brought us.” Davies looked a little pale.
“Anne?”
She looked pale, too. “You know that detector guy I’m going out with?”
Jensen didn’t think he wanted to hear this.
“Yeah, we remember. What has he seen?”
“There’s a shuttle coming up from Earth – a military shuttle. He heard it’s full of soldiers.”
Jensen looked at her strained face, and knew just how she felt. A shuttle full of soldiers meant that Westorn’s plans would begin forthwith.
“I need to see these soldiers. Could be they’re replacements?”
Macintosh shook her head. “Unlikely. Bill wouldn’t have been told to watch for them. They’d be on a regular schedule.”
“Well, hopefully, they’ll be ordinary soldiers,” he smiled, not feeling much like smiling. “In any event, I’d better find out. The rest of you, prepare defensive positions. Get the weapons together. If they’re here to take us out, they’ll have a fight on their hands.”
Carefully, for Westorn’s fanatics had begun patrolling, Jensen moved from place to place, hoping to find a good spot to watch the exit from the shuttle bay. A touristy couple had occupied the best one – a table at a coffee shop that had a tree – an actual tree in space – in a pot in front of it.
Nonetheless, he ducked behind the tree when he saw Rogers with several other fanatics approaching a very young couple. They looked hardly more than children, though the young man stood tall, and looked strong.
“Look, Larry, soldiers,” the girl said.
Larry looked. Rogers and his five men approached. They gave the couple a suspicious look, and then Rogers stopped them. The others surrounded the two youngsters. Jensen hoped to hell that the kids wouldn’t antagonize the sergeant.
“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Rogers asked, eyes cold, flat, deadly.
“Colonists,” the girl replied. “Our ship is late. We’re exploring.”
“Colonists should stay in their quarters,” Rogers said eying them hostilely. But then he must have decided that it wasn’t worth the hassle it would cause. He gave a hand-signal, and he and the others continued on.
“What was that?” the girl asked.
“I don’t know. Let’s get back to our quarters,” Larry replied. “I didn’t like the way they looked at us.”
“Neither did I.”
And neither did Jensen. He followed them, just in case Rogers decided to return. Instead, he saw a whole platoon of what could only be Westorn’s fanatics marching in from one of the shuttle bays. They saw the kids, and three of them broke from the others to investigate.
He felt for the kids, and strode up to them.
He smiled at them. “Hi there. There’s been a little difficulty, and we’re here to make sure everything stays safe. I think you should probably go back to your quarters.” He gave a little wink. “If you turn and go quickly, they’ll think I jus
t tore a strip off you, and they’ll probably leave you alone. Go now; go quickly.”
Fortunately, they did so, and the fanatics returned to their platoon. Well, at least now he knew. Trouble had just landed on Topside One. Probably more trouble than they could handle.
TWENTY-ONE
TOPSIDE ONE
Saturday, August 28th
“We got trouble,” Davis reported. “Westorn is on the move. He’s sending people to finish us off, commandeered a space-to-space shuttle – a big one – and has most of the fanatics boarding it.”
Anne Macintosh came in at the run. “I’ve seen them arranging ambushes. They’ve also put out a call for all civilians to stay in their quarters.”
“Yeah,” Tieff agreed, “I heard that one. It’s probably so they won’t see the murders they intend.”
“Look,” Davis said, pointing at the room’s Comm. “Orders for Sergeant Jensen, Private Innis, and Private Sloan to report to the Lab. I’ll lay you fifty to one they don’t arrive there if they’re stupid enough to answer the call.”
Jensen looked up from the table where they had a map of the concourse up on a reader. “No one is answering any call to duty. We don’t have enough weapons to engage them head-on. But, Anne, you said you saw them setting up ambushes? Where? We might take out a couple of those and gain their weapons.”
Nods came from around the room, and Jensen sent out Private Innis – and four others as back-up – with one of their precious pistols.
“What about the doctors?” Davis wanted to know.
“Right. James, you take two men and go get Burnett. Remember: tell her that Walker asked you to get her. That’s her code: Walker. She’ll do whatever you say. Anne, you take two and then go get Dr Grant. Same thing, Walker sent you.”
“What about you?” Tieff asked.
“It’s time I went to see Sergeant Rogers. He seems to be in charge of ‘mop-up’. Davis, get our pilot. We’ll move out after Colonel Westorn does. Give him a lead, and he won’t be able to get to us before we board and take over the Family ship, Maid Marion.
Not With A Whimper: Destroyers Page 16