by Paul Rix
As soon as he saw the open airlock hatches with Scorpion's hatch sealed shut, he recognized the immediate danger they were all in. Without a second thought, he propelled himself forward, ignoring the loud protests from Maxwell. He dived through the length of the airlock and used Scorpion's hatch to stop his forward motion.
As Garrett spun around to operate the mechanism to close the outer hatch, he heard the sound he was most dreading. Scorpion's docking clamps were loosening their vicelike grip on Britannic's hull. As a result, the docking collar was no longer providing an airtight seal. The low hiss of escaping air spurred him on to close the hatch before the vacuum of space sucked him out into the black void, along with Maxwell and the rest of the crew. He was cutting it fine this time.
He'd seen the results of explosive decompressions in deep space, and they weren't pretty. Telling himself that no one deserved to die like that, he pulled down with all the force he could, his wounds screaming in protest at the exertion.
"Need some help?" said Maxwell. Without waiting for a response, she grabbed hold of the locking lever. Garrett's head was spinning but, with Maxwell's help, he heard the satisfying click of the hatch mechanism locking into place.
Chapter 45
As Scorpion eased away from Britannic's airlock, Delta leaned forward in her command chair, eagerly watching the viewscreen. There was nothing more satisfying than the sensation of revenge. Although a simple pleasure, it was one she didn't get to experience enough. Perhaps it was the rarity that made it so special.
She was dumbfounded to observe no evidence that Britannic's atmosphere was being sucked out into space. The airlock hatch quickly shrank as Scorpion maneuvered itself to one thousand meters from Britannic. "What's gone wrong now?" she demanded, violently slamming her fist into the arm of her chair. Her little finger caught the edge of a button and started to bleed, although she barely noticed.
The corporal's eyes darted across the various displays in front of her as she tried to make sense of what the ship was telling her. "I'm sorry for the delay, Your Grace. I'm not fully trained in the operation of Scorpion. However, it appears they sealed Britannic's airlock."
Delta was struggling to contain her anger. How could the mission be going so wrong? Scorpion was one of the most advanced ships in the Federation and her troops were highly respected. Yet a retired Marine and the crew of a two-thousand-year-old spacecraft had made them look a laughingstock. How could she explain her botched attempt to President D’Angelo?
The silent image of the battered Britannic on the view screen taunted her.
Is this what humiliation feels like?
The presence of Trask on board was scant consolation. He wouldn't prevent the likely opposition to her mother's presidency once Britannic's existence was exposed. Delta could feel her future slipping through her fingers. Desperate action was necessary if she wanted to rule the Federation.
Leaving Rankin alone on the bridge, she stormed to her quarters and established another encrypted communications link with Frederick. This was going to be one of the toughest conversations she had ever had with him.
"What now, sister? Do you want to gloat by showing me imagery of Britannic's remains?"
"Not exactly. My earlier transmission may have been premature. Commander Stone and his squad have failed. Britannic is still in one piece. I'm on Scorpion with a single soldier and the Trasks."
Delta saw Frederick's mouth twitch but was unsure if he was containing a smile or a sneer.
"So, you're going to take my advice and allow Britannic to be recovered?"
"Of course not. This is a developing situation."
"In that case, why have you interrupted my busy schedule?"
Frederick's attitude was galling. Despite his stupidity, she was well aware he had a killer instinct when he knew he held an advantage. She was still desperate to punish him but, for now, the priority was damage limitation. Which meant swallowing her pride.
"I need your help, Frederick. Can you send a second squad to enable me to complete this mission?" Each word stuck in her throat, knowing that Frederick was finding pleasure in her discomfort.
"Don't you think it's too late? By the time a crew assembles and arrives at your location, the whole Stellar Cluster will know about Britannic."
"We have to try. I am not giving up on our dreams while there is still a possibility of success."
"That's the sound of desperation. Mother gave you all the tools you needed. You even committed to Mother that you wouldn't fail. Yet here you are. Pleading with me for help."
"Frederick. This goes way beyond our competitive rivalry. Mother's presidential powers will be forfeit, along with her protection of us. Do you want to live the rest of your life in some dark corner of Constance II, having to work to feed yourself?"
"That doesn't have to be the only ending, Delta. Come back and we can find another solution."
Has Frederick forgotten who he is talking to? "You’re time-wasting is what will cause this mission to fail. So grow some balls, remember where your loyalty lies, and get me the troops I need. Now!"
"Not this time. Listen to me. Your failure is a blessing in disguise for all of us. Britannic has to be preserved. Otherwise, the public will never forgive us. "
Delta's face was scarlet with rage. Only the president ever said no to her demands, and that was rare. Frederick knew that as well as anyone. "You sniveling piece of shit. I don't know what you're playing at but there's no time for this. Everyone knows where you stand in the pecking order. So do what we have trained you to do and follow my simple instructions."
The expression on Frederick's face remained impassive, with maybe a touch of a smug grin. Delta found it disconcerting. "You have such a low opinion of me. I think this time you've underestimated me."
"What do you mean?"
"Both you and Mother think I'm worthless. You've said it to my face enough times that you got me believing it. I know now that your words were nothing more than a way of controlling me. Using me as another one of your staffers and keeping me subservient, without me even knowing. God, I've been so dumb."
"That's because you rank below me. You don't have the steel to lead. You always had to be told what to do, even as a child. Mother said you lacked imagination."
"Not anymore. I realize now that you and Mother have been directing me down a path of your making. It's one I no longer intend to follow. What you're doing now is bad for me and wrong for the inhabitants of the Stellar Cluster. There are other ways."
"It's Deschamps! He's gotten to you. Frederick, you're such a loser."
"Yes, he made me an offer. But, until recently, I've declined it. Call it family loyalty or years of brainwashing. For some crazy reason, I thought there was still an opportunity to be a partner with you. But you are always going to treat me with contempt."
"That's ridiculous. Stop listening to Deschamps. He's poisoning you against your own family. He wants to see Mother overthrown, and he's using you to achieve his ambitions. You must see that."
"The only thing Deschamps has done is open my eyes to see you for who you truly are."
For the first time in her life, Delta felt the presidency slipping from her grasp. Frederick could not have chosen a worse moment to betray her, and she doubted he was aware of the full consequences his actions would cause. Maybe she had pushed him too far.
"Now is not the time to be something you're not. Family comes first, and you know I always look out for you. Please, Freddie. If you feel I've not treated you fairly we can talk about it. You can have more responsibility. And respect. I promise. But we need to destroy Britannic if we are going to survive as a family."
"I don't believe you. I foresee an alternative future, with people who believe in my potential and who want to support me. I never received that from you. I'll be president and will consign you to some far-flung outpost, obeying my orders."
"Damn you, Freddie. You're forgetting who is currently in charge. You are—"
"
Let me stop you. If you're thinking of contacting Mother or anyone else for help, then I have to tell you I've just locked you out of all communications systems."
"You can't do that!" Delta screamed at the hologram. She reached out blindly for an object to throw and, finding her pistol within her grasp, threw it with all her might. It passed harmlessly through the projection of Frederick's image and clattered loudly on the carbon alloy wall behind.
Frantically, she tried to contact her mother on another channel, only to discover Frederick had indeed locked her out. She tried contacting one of her secret parliamentary spies, again to no avail. Frederick had cut her off from any help.
Frederick's image continued to smile. "You've failed, sister. Perhaps you should reconsider any thoughts of returning. You won't be welcome."
"I'll be back for you, brother. Your days are numbered."
Frederick disconnected the transmission, leaving Delta looking at a blank wall. She told herself this was only a setback. Somehow, she had to single-handedly destroy Britannic and warn her mother of the danger she was in.
And then dispose of her treacherous brother.
Chapter 46
Sitting alone in his extravagant private quarters in the presidential palace, Frederick was filled with a sense of self-satisfaction. The golden rays of the morning sun were beginning to stream through the windows, heralding a bright new day. The new dawn seemed like the perfect metaphor for what he had caused to happen. He had released the shackles and now faced a golden future he had never seriously considered before.
This was the first day of a new life, and he believed that anything was possible. He felt light-headed with nervous energy after his conversation with his overbearing sister. Finally, he had won an argument with her. He wondered why he'd not acted sooner. Delta and his mother had been experts at suppressing his self-esteem for far too long.
Although not overtly religious, he whispered a silent prayer to thank Deschamps for having the vision and faith to recruit him. Of course, he would now have to ensure he wasn't simply being manipulated by the wily advocate. Clear demarcation of duties and expectations would need to be agreed before the rebellion was finalized.
Feeling invigorated by his new lease on life, he resisted the urge to step onto his balcony and shout out to the world. It wasn't right for a future president to show such a lack of decorum.
Now that he had decided, he wanted to take immediate action and was bursting with energy ideas with no one to hold him back. There was no returning to his old life now, even if he wanted to. Through good fortune, he now had the opportunity to make a name for himself and create a better Federation. With the help of Advocate Deschamps and his supporters, there were no limits on what he could achieve. He could be the most adored president in history.
The thought of overthrowing his mother filled him with dread, despite his newfound bravado. Telling her that her life's work was now over would be difficult but necessary. Although she had been complicit in allowing Delta the opportunities to develop, while making him feel second best, he could never hate her for what she had done. She must have faced some hard choices as president, and everyone could make mistakes. It was therefore important that the bloodless coup he hoped for would cause her no physical harm. He would allow her to live out the rest of her life in relative peace, albeit far away from the trappings and publicity she had known for most of her life.
Delta was a fresh problem altogether. She would never forgive him. As long as she was free, she would be a threat to him and his administration. Removing her was the easiest option, yet he couldn't condone fratricide. Besides, murdering his sister wouldn't help his popularity or set a good example for his presidency. If he wanted to be judged as a fair and just president, he couldn't rule through fear.
For now, Delta could wait. She was three days away and not an imminent threat. Just so long as she didn't destroy Britannic.
Summoning the resolve he needed, he sat back at his desk to contact Deschamps on his quantum encrypted channel. The old man responded almost immediately, his holographic image hovering above Frederick's desk. His appearance was less refined than his normal public persona, with his white hair ruffled and unkempt.
"Good morning, Your Grace. I didn't expect to hear from you quite so soon. And certainly not so early in the day."
"My apologies if I disturbed you, Advocate Deschamps. The situation has changed radically since we last spoke. You have opened my eyes and enabled me to consider your generous offer. I am pleased to inform you I would like to accept, subject to some vital matters being agreed."
A genuine smile of joy spread across Deschamps' face, his eyes surrounded by dozens of crow's feet. "Excellent news, my boy. I cannot tell you how proud I am of you for making such a bold decision. Together, we will make the Federation a better place for everyone."
Any tension Frederick was still feeling disappeared with the simple compliment. He couldn't recall his mother declaring her pride for him. "I hope so. Can we meet later this morning? We have a window of opportunity that we cannot afford to miss."
"Absolutely. I have been waiting most of my political life for this moment. But can I ask what made you change your mind?"
"That's easy. Your honesty and integrity. I've known for a long time that those qualities were lacking in President D’Angelo. But she's my mother. I ignored the deficiencies in how she governed. In fact, I helped to support many of her actions to ensure she held onto power, even when I knew it was blatantly wrong. There would only be more of the same if my sister became president. Enough is enough. It's time for a change and I know, with your support and guidance, I can strengthen the Federation."
"You've made the right choice. I'll contact Cam to round up my colleagues. Where would you like to meet?"
"A discussion on this matter is not wise anywhere on the planet. So, I propose my space yacht. I'll be in orbit around the second moon three hours from now. Bring only those you need and trust."
"Thank you, Your Grace. I'll be there. Today will be a momentous day for the Federation." As Frederick cut the connection, he noticed the old man's eyes were glistening.
Having made the call, Frederick was at peace with his decision, any lingering doubts banished. The president's throne was almost within reach. And he was ready to accept the responsibility.
Chapter 47
Garrett's legs faltered as they experienced the effects of excess gravity back on Raptor. "Return artificial gravity to one-quarter standard."
He was still feeling the effects of his wounds as the inner airlock hatch slid open to reveal the four guards he had left behind. They were sitting up, leaning against the wall of the corridor, their faces red and panting as they stretched their arms and legs.
After gently lowering the three SDs to the floor, Garrett grunted in pain as he staggered forward. "No hard feelings, guys. I prefer working alone these days and I didn't trust you to have my back."
The closest guard scowled at him but was too exhausted to stand. "Is the grand president safe?"
"No. Although Britannic is now secure, Delta took Trask and his wife to her ship."
"Are we going after them? We have to save the grand president."
Garrett didn't have time for this. These guards were a liability and, more importantly, were delaying him from getting to his medical supplies. "Your illustrious Grand President Trask went voluntarily. He is willing to see you and everyone on Britannic die. All so that he could save his own life."
"We are all prepared to die for him," said another of the guards.
"You no longer have to. You can all head back to the ark. Major Thompson is waiting for you and will explain what has happened."
The first guard raised an eyebrow. "Where are you going?"
"I have another mission. And, as I just said, I prefer to work on my own."
The guard must have realized he wouldn't get any more information from Garret
t, and he was too weary from his recent exertions. "You'll need to help us stand," he said, embarrassed at having to make such a request.
***
Once Trask's guards had disembarked Raptor, Garrett limped to the galley. "Computer, assess my injuries and provide appropriate medication."
A pale blue light bathed Garrett for ten seconds as he stood swaying slowly from side to side, gritting his teeth.
Garrett snatched the medication from the dispenser, injecting the painkillers into the side of his neck. His head and body hurt like hell, and he knew the pain was impairing his judgment. The epidermal solution would have to wait until he'd dealt with Delta. At least the bleeding seemed to have stopped but there was still the issue that his left arm was not performing as it should, preventing him from fully flexing his fingers. "What about my artificial arm?"
"Damn. That makes my job much tougher."
Garrett limped to the bridge. The intense pain in his head had become a dull throb, allowing him to concentrate on what he needed to do.
"Where's Scorpion?"
This was not the news he wanted to hear. Delta could be anywhere, licking her wounds and deciding what to do next. With Trask and his wife on board, it was possible she could travel back to the safety of Constance II. However, retreat didn't seem like Delta's style when she desperately wanted to destroy the ark.