by L S Roebuck
“And your friends? North? Lydia?” Kimberly asked. “Kora?”
“I am not going to lie to you, mom,” Amberly lied. “I hope we can save them, but saving them is not what is important. We are such little pieces in the big picture now.”
Kimberly smiled, pulled her daughter close, and held her in a solid embrace. “I love you too, Amberly. I am never going to leave you again.”
Sparks frowned.
“It’s settled then,” Kimberly said. “We have a spot on the Magellan leadership team that Joti … vacated. Welcome to the triumvirate. Let’s get control of the station.”
“Nepotism at its finest,” Spark snarked, absentmindedly working a knot out of her long strawberry hair.
“Amberly’s qualities are apparent even if she didn't have my genes,” Kimberly said. “I am certain the Chairman would agree. Amberly will be one of the great leaders of the new order of Arara. Maybe as the head of the ministry of science, or… who knows. Once Chasm is complete, we have only to ascend from glory to glory.”
Amberly took a deep breath, and calmed herself as if she was about to recite a speech in school. She slipped out of the embrace of her mom, bounced twice like a giddy schoolgirl, and turned to hug Dek.
“You were right about mom, Dek; she does still love me,” Amberly said with an ear-to-ear grin on her face. Then she pushed up on her toes and smashed her lips into Dek. Dek was caught off guard, and for a split second thought he should withdraw at the risk of offending Raven One. But the kiss was too sweet, and he accepted it. She gripped his lower lip between her lips and slowly pulled away. Dek’s face reddened.
“There will be plenty of time for that when we get to Arara,” Amberly said, looking to see what sort of reaction she was getting from her mother. “We have so many plans to make together.”
If Dek’s face had gone red, Raven’s face was ashen. She was not pleased at what appeared to be the seeds of a traditional subjugation of Amberly to Dek in a non-platonic relationship, but chose to hold her tongue while she tactically analyzed the situation. There was never any need to panic. She would see to Amberly’s well being and her daughter’s ascension in the new world order that would rise in a post-Chasm Arara. If Dek became a distraction to Amberly, well, Raven One knew there were plenty of ways to deal with Dek permanently.
Dek cleared his throat awkwardly; Kimberly stared uncomfortably at him, wondering what his motivations were, and Amberly just smiled, as if ignorant of the tension she had cultivated with her sultry kiss.
Sparks broke the silence.
“Been there. Done that. Whatever,” she said, trying to indicate she was above the little family drama that was unfolding. “You wanted a status report, Dek?”
“Yes, how long has Johnson had control of the harbor?”
“Lt. Johnson?” Amberly asked. “He’s one of … us?”
“Yes, try to keep up,” Sparks said condescendingly. “Johnson, your mother and Joti — the Magellan Triumvirate — in charge of the Chasm operations here. Looks like you were fast tracked in to replace poor Joti. Don’t worry, I am sure that everyone will think you deserve this on your own, not because your mother is the famous Raven —”
“That’s enough of that,” Kimberly cut in.
“Your boy toy over there,” Sparks indicated Dek, “Capt. Järvinen and moi are the American Spirit Triumvirate. Each major Chasm operation has three leaders, for redundancy and to help make sure we make rational judgments. We keep each other in check.”
“But I thought mom was in charge,” Amberly said, and eyed her mother.
“She is the first among equals, if that’s what you mean,” Sparks said. “But honestly, your mother seems to have everyone wrapped around her finger, even the Chairman.”
“Enough!” Kimberly shouted, and even the precocious Sparks backed down. “We don’t have time for this. Johnson failed at his mission. We do not have control of the control center or even the hangar for that matter. In fact, that idiot Johnson damaged the hangar so it cannot even be opened without compromising the Magellan.”
“I thought that’s what we wanted,” Dek said.
“We don’t want a crippled Magellan that may survive after we are gone. Scorched Earth requires a clean kill,” Raven said. “And I have to get to the control center and complete the command code sequencing.”
“So even if we regained control of the hangar, we can’t land,” Sparks said.
“Why can’t you just take control remotely?” Amberly asked.
“Two reasons,” Sparks interjected. “First is that the American Spirit is flooding the area with all sorts of radio noise. One of my projects was to create a jamming mechanism that interferes with radio transmissions. I’ve spent the better part of three years building it, and I must say it works like a charm.”
“Because…” Amberly was reasoning in her head, “we don’t want Magellan tipping our hand. But wouldn’t the Marines and the central communications know right away if the comms were jammed, and they would clue into Chasm?”
“The corvette is already out of that hangar, sister,” Sparks said, with a silent “duh” rolling of her eyes. “More importantly, we don’t want Magellan warning the other waypoints, until it is too late. Second, is that the central command features we need to access — life support and power systems — do not have any connection to outside networks to protect them from being hijacked remotely. We have to be there in person to … do what ever Raven One has planned.”
Dek was confused. “So Johnson was unable to decapitate the Marines?”
“Yes, and apparently the governor has declared martial law. They are onto us. Rillio made some sort of waypoint-wide announcement.”
Amberly worked to hide the flash of alarm in her eyes. On the one hand, she was glad people knew what was going on and were taking the Chasm threat seriously. On the other, the “decapitate the Marines” part seemed drastic.
“What do you mean, ‘decapitate the Marines’?” Amberly asked as nonchalantly as possible.
“Johnson was supposed to get the other top Marine officers together and incapacitate them,” Sparks said, standing up from her seat and taking a step toward Dek. “Apparently he had to make his move early because someone else screwed up.”
Sparks pointed her index finger into Dek’s chest hard. Dek winced, and then Sparks seductively trailed her fingers down Dek’s chest to near his belly button as she looked at Amberly. “Someone stole your communication key, and they were using it to decode your messages. Johnson said they only got the ‘Scorched Earth’ command decoded before he could destroy the key. Of course, this exposed him. He was able to kill Anderson and Jindal, and he apparently wounded North. Moreno survived, too, and she’s running the show.”
A shock of adrenaline hit Amberly as she thought about North being injured and possibly her other friends too. How badly? She did not dare ask, not now. Apparently, the deaths her mother promised had started.
“In other words,” Raven One said to Dek while stealing a glance over at her daughter, “You ended up being just as weak a link as Joti and Johnson. Maybe more. Not only is the whole station on alert looking for us, but the command center is also under extra guard.”
Amberly was fighting the urge to panic. Did North tell anyone where he got the communication key? If she came clean now, what would they do to her? Airlock, for certain. All she could now was hope they didn’t discover her theft — and play along waiting for an opportunity to escape back to Magellan.
“Dek, how did you lose your communication encryption key?” Raven One asked coolly.
Dek was dumfounded. He was running through his mind the last time he saw the keycard. His heart rate also was elevated. “I didn’t lose it — I left it locked in my transient quarters.”
Sparks smelled blood, and she was in the mood for fresh meat.
“Are you sure, Dek?” Sparks said. “Maybe you let in someone who swiped it.”
“Amberly!” Dek said, as if jolted by a defibrillator.
“Amberly… was a witness,” Dek said. “She was there when I double-checked to make sure my room was locked before we came to secure the Firebird to come and get you.”
“Yes, I was,” Amberly said, relieved suddenly. “We had left the hotel room heading for my apartment, and we had walked a few meters and Dek said he wanted to go back. I saw him go and check to make sure his door was secure.”
“You should have kept your communication key on you,” Sparks said.
“We have more important things to worry about,” Kimberly said, clearly satisfied with Dek’s explanation and wanting to move on. “Like coming up with a plan just in case the good Capt. Järvinen doesn’t capture the hangar and control center.”
“You know I don’t think highly of Järvinen,” Sparks said, sliding back in her chair at the navigation point. “But he should be able to pull off an assault with the element of surprise. He might have a five to one advantage. We should have him coordinate with Johnson, who could lead a distraction assault from the access door.”
“They’ll be waiting for Johnson to regroup and assault again,” Kimberly said. “They must know he wants to get on the American Spirit and it seems like Moreno is hell bound to keep him from reaching it.”
“Yes, that should work nicely,” Sparks mused. “Järvinen sneaks in the back with his men in a surprise attack just after Johnson leads his cannon fodder assault. It will be a suicide mission.”
“I love a self-cleaning mess,” Kimberly smiled. “Johnson is no longer useful to us anyway. He’s a liability. Sparks, contact Johnson and Järvinen and coordinate the attacks. Amberly, Dek and I will figure out a way to get back on the Magellan without docking.”
Even with the setbacks they had seen, Kimberly could still see many paths to victory. The thought of victory, of accomplishing the mission after years and years of sacrifice, thrilled her like nothing before.
Her excitement was contagious, and Sparks sported an uncharacteristic grin.
“Let’s start the fire.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
North paced the executive conference room, which was connected by a secure hallway directly to the command center. In the center of the room was a rare mahogany table three meters in length with matching wood chairs, ten in all. The room was well lit and was rarely spacious for a waypoint. Three of the walls surrounding the room featured in-wall seating. The fourth wall was a floor to ceiling window into space. If one stood right up against the window on the extreme left side and looked to the right, he or she could see the reactor fin of the American Spirit glistening in the starlight.
Lydia loved this room. Being a glorified lab tech, she’d didn’t even know the Marine base and command center had a meeting room like this. But the open view of space appealed to her curious spirit, and made the universe seem large, but somehow accessible, as if should could reach out and grab a stellar object, examine it, classify it, and then set it back.
The window wall was unsettling for Kora. Looking out into the infinity of space with just a strip of some transparent polymer to keep a person from getting sucked out didn’t inspire Kora; it frightened her. When she looked out, she felt a faint sense of vertigo, so instead she focused on the attractive figure of North.
Skip, Lydia and Kora sat on one of the in-wall benches, welcome to be present but not necessarily welcome to comment. In the room at the head of the table sat Acting Marine Commander Rita Moreno. As the ranking pilot under the late Jindal, Lt. Wing Commander Twig occupied a seat as well. Next to him sat Gov. Thor Rillio and his chief of staff, Micha Gonzalez, a young, round woman with unremarkable features. Magellan’s chief judicial officer, Counselor Jayden Adams, stood behind a chair. Slightly overweight and middle aged, Adams was sweating, either because he had been running or because he was extremely nervous; North wasn’t sure which. Finally, the four police sub-captains, one from each quadrant, were in attendance.
“How do we know any of us are not Chasm agents, like Johnson and half his men,” North said, his voice full of anxiety and adrenaline.
“Relax, North,” Moreno said calmly, but with the power of command in her voice. “Here is how we are going to do this. This is the leadership team here at the table. Everyone does everything, and I mean everything, from here on out until we restore civilian rule, together. We make decisions together; we go to the bathroom together.”
“That sounds unpleasant,” Gonzalez said. Moreno did not appreciate the bureaucrat’s tone, but she hid her displeasure. She wondered why Thor placed so much confidence in such an inexperienced administrator with such poor people skills.
“Next, everyone caries one of these emergency transponders,” Moreno passed out small round devices that clipped to clothing. “I know the Marines are familiar with these, but let me explain them to the rest of you. These are all hard coded with your ID. Once clipped on, they are activated. If you are in trouble because you think one of us is really Chasm, you press the transponder button. It shares that with everyone else wearing the transponder that something is amiss.”
“What about the radio interference being broadcast by the American Spirit?” Twig asked. “Won’t that interfere with the transmission?”
Skip, an expert in radio communication, spoke up. “The interior of Magellan is shielded. Our internal ship transmissions are working fine, through our internal repeating wireless hubs. Well, working fine if we can keep central communication under control. Whatever that ship out there is filling up the space around us with so we can’t get communication in or out, is not radiating inside. Eventually, if they jam us long enough, someone will notice that we are not making our regular check-ins. Of course, that will take a year or so, and then a year or more to investigate, and – ”
“Thanks Skip,” North said. “So basically if one of us is going to assassinate another one of us, press the button before you die?”
“Well, it’s not foolproof,” Moreno said. “That is why I have a second action item for us to consider. If you all agree with me now, I will use my power under martial law as acting Marine commander to bring swift justice to our enemy.”
Thor shifted in his chair, looking uncomfortable. “What do you mean, Rita?”
“Again, if we all agree, I will issue a general proclamation under my martial law powers,” Moreno said, very evenly and slowly, “to suspend habeas corpus for known Chasm conspirators, and the right to trial by jury. Henceforth the punishment for conspiring with Chasm will be death by airlock, with guilt determined by military tribunal, to be convened immediately.”
The room was silent. Moreno scanned the room, looking to see reactions in the faces. Thor nodded slightly.
Twig spoke first, “I agree. The measure is extreme, but the situation warrants it.”
“I don’t understand,” said Adams, wiping perspiration from his brow. “How will this help us identify traitors in our midst?”
“Upon issuing the execution order, I will also issue an amnesty rider. Chasm conspirators who surrender to us within two hours will be considered for executive commutation — the death sentence will be reduced to imprisonment in exile,” Moreno clarified. “My assumption is that if any of you are Chasm, you don’t want to see the outside of the airlock.”
“So, if you are Chasm, and we capture you, it’s a quick march into space,” Gonzalez mused. “But if you surrender to us, the alternative is a free ticket on a penal ship headed to…?”
“Earth,” Thor said, leaning back in his chair. “It’s like a 20-year sentence. Prison labor on a ship.”
“But what happens when they get to Earth?” North asked.
“Well, if they live that long, who knows? We’ll leave that up to the politicians back on the mother planet,” Moreno said.
“But what adverse impact could issuing this edict have if Chasm ends up taking control of
this station,” Twig said, placing his hands palm down on the table. “I’m all for it, but we have to know that if we can’t regain full control and somehow Chasm gets the upper hand, we are all destined for the airlock ourselves.”
“If Chasm gets control of this station, we are all dead anyway,” Adams said, “Isn’t that what this Scorched Earth is all about?”
“Yes, Jayden,” Moreno confirmed. “At least that’s what we were able to gather from the Marines who were turned Chasm by Johnson: private Boro and Phan. Boro surrendered to us and has since been cooperative.”
“And he did a great job saving us from Johnson’s assault on the hangar,” North added.
“Whoever is pulling the strings on this um… terrorist group seems to have ordered Magellan destroyed,” Thor said. “Let’s act. I move we endorse Rita’s proposal, giving her the support she needs to enforce her martial order.”
Heads nodded around the table.
“Very well,” Rita said. “I want everyone here to understand the actions I take I do with the greatest sobriety, and I deem them necessary only because all of our lives are in peril. I will appoint Thor and Twig to serve with me on the military tribunal.”
She reached onto the table and activated the intercom and signaled a Marine who was sitting at the communications station in central command.
“Moreno here. Please patch me through to the ship wide broadcast system so I can make an announcement.”
“One moment, XO,” the Marine said, businesslike. “Okay, biometrics verified, XO, confirmed you have all internal channels hot.”
“Attention. This is acting station commander XO Rita Moreno. Please stand by for a critical message about the survival of this station.”
Rita pressed the mute button, and then looked around the room.
“Are you all sure we should do this? We can’t bluff on this. If I announce the Chasm tribunal, we’ll have to go through with it. We are going to be putting live people out of the airlock.”
Thor looked around and sighed. “We have to do it. And if anyone goes out an airlock, it will be for good cause. These Chasm people have stuck it to the good people of Magellan. What, did they think we would go down without a fight?”