by Tom Clancy
‘Forget what’s behind us,’ David snapped. ‘We’re coming up on our hyperspace insertion point in four seconds … three …’
Energy levels risings Leif thought. Here we go . , ,
‘Insertion!’
The view on the screens went from normal space to a weird, ghostly gray - the typical view of hyperspace.
Watching it on the holo, Leif was always reminded of a very thin fog. Except that, at various points in the indistinct vista, traces of phosphorescence could be detected.
Those were the hyperspace currents.
‘Scanners show we’re aligned with the current we want!’ Matt reported.
‘Deploy sails!’ David ordered.
This was Leif’s job. His hands darted over his console, activating the preprogrammed force-field array.
‘Under way,’ he announced.
Matt was busy fine-tuning the scanners to penetrate the hyperspace murk as best he could. Tiny sparks appeared on the display.
‘I detect three ships ahead of us, riding the current,’ he reported. Lights also appeared on the rearview screen. ‘And lots more behind.’
Yeah, Leif said silently. Just not as many as we’d expected.
Chapter Ten
The lights aboard the Onrust dimmed again, and Hal Fosdyke’s voice soimded from thin air. ‘That’s a wrap,’ he said. ‘We’ve got what we needed. Good work, everybody. All teams can now disengage.’
Andy Moore had an incredulous expression on his face as the lights went back to normal. ‘I bet they got a lot more than they expected,’ he said, glancing around at the others. ‘This race certainly started with a bang, didn’t it?’
Leif closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was back on the slightly musty upholstery of the cut-rate compulink couch.
David was already rising from his seat. ‘That was hairy enough, without things going boom right beside us,’ he said, rubbing a hand over his face.
‘Not as bad as when we hit Mars,’ Andy replied. But his hand went to his stomach. ‘If they’re going to keep feeding us big meals before we go in and do these scenes, though …’
The sound of an angry voice came slicing through the office door, which stood half-open to accommodate the bundle of cables that connected the compulink couches.
’—must redo the start!’ the voice cried. ‘It is impossible for Eagle Maru to have failed that way!’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Hara, but we have several minutes of holographic proof that your ship could and did fail in precisely that way,’ Fosdyke’s voice replied.
Leif slid the door open. The snotty Japanese boy stood in the hallway, confronting the special-effects chief. Hara, or whatever his name was, seemed to be suffering from something worse than a post-computer crash headache. His normally intense face was twisted with emotion, and his whole body was shaking as he argued with the man. ‘I demand to see Mr Wallenstein! We will not stand for this insult!’
Looks like he’s about ready to puff up and explode, Leif thought, staring at the furious young man. I wonder how old you have to be before you can get a stroke?
‘You’ll see Mr Wallenstein in the morning,’ Fosdyke said. ‘He already knows what happened - he was watching the rough imagery. Since he was the one who called for a wrap, I’d say he thinks he has something he can work with.’
The technical man turned away. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr Hara …’
‘You have not heard the end of this!’ Hara shouted after him, his accent becoming more pronounced with every word he spoke. ‘I will not let this go!’
He whipped around, glaring at Leif, who had witnessed his humiliation. Then Hara stomped down the hall in the opposite direction, muttering in Japanese.
Leif couldn’t exactly hear what Hara was saying. But he did catch the word gaijin^ an uncomplimentary term the Japanese used for foreigners - especially Caucasians.
Matt appeared at Leif’s elbow. ‘What’s going on out there?’
‘A lesson in international relations,’ Leif replied. ‘The Japanese market is complaining about the amount of air time they’ll be enjoying in the episode.’
Behind them, Andy laughed. ‘Right! Considering their representative spaceship will be on for maybe a minute or so before it explodes.’
David, however, shook his head. ‘I know Arcturan scouts aren’t the sturdiest vessels in the Ultimate Frontier universe. They’re manned by drones, and the hive-worlds consider them expendable.’
‘I sense a “but” coming up,’ Leif said.
Caught, David grinned. ‘But, he went on, ‘scouts are expected to survive and come back with word of fresh worlds. This one was designed to last the entire race. I can’t imagine it flying to pieces at the starting line.’
He frowned. ‘I mean, it made it through the trials to win the right to race tonight. We saw those races when we were preparing for the final round. I know that ship successfully weathered worse than what they went through today. I just don’t get it.’
‘Maybe the ship takes after its crew in temperament. Things get a little exciting, and it’s kaboom!’ Andy laughed a bit at the image of a ship’s temper tantrum.
They boys headed out into the hallway, which was now crowded with the members of other teams. The surge of adrenaline from the race had passed away now. Most of the young people were subdued, even silent, as they headed for the exit.
Leif hesitated for a second behind his friends. He frowned down at the compulink couches. ‘After the way this race began, I don’t think I find that very funny,’ he muttered.
He made a mental note to check into the matter further.
Then, with a shrugs he stepped through the door and joined the crowd.
The next day was supposed to be taken up with a tour of the Los Angeles area, courtesy of the studio. There was an autobus standing outside the hotels and all the contestants were herded aboard. Instead of checking out city hot spots, however, the bus lumbered through traffic over to Pinnacle Studios.
Andy glanced around, his eyes bright. ‘Change of schedule,’ he muttered. ‘Something’s up.’
This time, they didn’t pass through the fancy gate. The bus pulled up at an entrance more suited for truck deliveries. Jane Givens climbed aboard and went through a roll call.
‘What’s going on?’ Leif asked, but the publicist only shook her head.
They rolled off again, up to the building that housed the Ultimate Frontier offices. There they disembarked and followed Jane through a new set of corridors. They ended up in a large conference room.
Even so, it was a tight fit for the crowd of contestants. There weren’t seats for everyone. Most of the teams stayed on their feet, clustered near the head of the conference table.
Milos Wallenstein walked in. ‘I know that you didn’t expect to be here this morning,’ he said abrupdy. There was little in the way of apology in his voice. ‘But then, the scene we did last night didn’t exactly go as planned either.’
Hara’s voice ripped out of the crowd. ‘My team was cheated! The Chinese representatives were cheated! So were the other three teams who lost their ships!’
Leif winced. He hadn’t realized quite so many competitors had been eliminated at the start.
‘Mr Hara,’ Wallenstein began.
‘I will not be soothed!’ Hara’s voice was shrill. ‘Is there holo-projection gear in this room?’
Of course there is, Leif thought. Nowadays, every conference room comes equipped with it,
Wallenstein hesitated for a second. ‘Yes,’ he finally said.
Hara pushed up to the front row, facing the producer. He almost tore a datastrip from his shirt pocket. ‘Put that in the system and order it to play,’ he said.
Wallenstein didn’t like taking commands from some kid. But he took the datastrip and inserted it into an inconspicuous slot at the head of the conference table. ‘Play this file,’ he said.
A holo-image appeared over the table. It showed deep space, a line of rakish craft… but
it wasn’t a replay of last night’s race. The competitors were all spidery-thin, spindly vessels, graceful in the way a flying mosquito was gracefial. In the midst was a familiar craft - the praying mantis with engine pods. What had Hara called it? Eagle Maru?
The ships took off in a corkscrewing swarm, each competitor jockeying for position.
Like rush hour in Tokyo, Leif thought.
‘There!’ Hara’s voice cut in as, above them, the Eagle Maru suddenly veered right to avoid a smaller racer that had dropped right in front of it. ‘That is the same maneuver as we attempted last night. Our ship survived it. Study the hull-stabilizing field and the inertia-compensator readings, and compare them with last night’s.’
‘Mr Hara.’ Wallenstein had run out of patience.
But Hara wasn’t finished. ‘This is a copy of the qualifying run for inclusion in the Great Race, held in Tokyo,’ he shrilled. ‘Check it in your own files - and then compare it to - to that travesty that took place last night. You also have recordings of the bridge consoles. My engineer tells me that the shearing force last night was less dangerous than the stresses our vessel experienced during the trials.’
‘Then how do you explain the catastrophic failure—’ Wallenstein began.
‘There is no explanation,’ Hara shouted, ‘except for one - sabotage!’
Well, the cat’s out of the bag now, Leif thought in the moment of stunned silence that followed the Japanese boy’s accusation.
Then it seemed everybody in the room began yelling.
The Japanese team wasn’t the only one showing its unhappiness. The four other teams who’d lost their chance because of the Eagle Maru’s breakdown had joined the protest.
Wallenstein listened for a moment of two, then said, ‘listen!’
It was a single word against a blast of sound, but he was the one who won. The angry team members shut up.
‘Mistake, sabotage, horrible quirk of fate - whatever happened, happened. I may regret it, but we’re going ahead. For the last hour or so, I’ve been in conference with our writers. The explosion makes a good plot twist. We’ve worked it into the storyline.’
A new storm of protests met this announcement, but for all the effect it had on Wallenstein, they might as well have yelled at the table. This was not the wishy-washy executive who’d caved at the complaints of the Carpathian Alliance’s thug/chaperon. This was the man who ran the show, telling everyone how things would be.
What had Lance Snowdon called Wallenstein? Oh, yes, Leif remembered. A dictator around the set. Well, the description fit the man facing down a room full of very competitive, very upset racers. Not very anarcho-libertarian. Or maybe it was. That crowd seemed to be very down on rules.
And that was the mess Wallenstein was creating, as one of the competitors suddenly realized.
‘Why aren’t you punishing whoever made the accident happen?’ a not-so-apple-cheeked Danish kid asked.
Wallenstein looked him right in the eye. ‘The basis of this episode is a race between a variety of alien beings who don’t necessarily get along very well. Given the differences in their cultures - and the prestige connected with winning - it might not be surprising that competitors might go to extremes.’
‘You’re saying it’s all right to cheat?’ The words exploded from somewhere in the back of the room.
Leif cringed slightly. The big man had just about said it was okay to lie, cheat, and steal - so long as it was in character for the alien race the team represented.
That’s no help for us - the Galactic Federation is supposed to be idealistic and high-minded, Leif thought.
But for a raid-and-trade culture like the Setangis - or for the Thuriens - this was like declaring open season.
Apparently, Wallenstein decided there had been enough discussion. He turned and headed straight for the door.
‘Something tells me we probably won’t be going on that tour today,’ Andy said.
Leif shook his head. His friend could find something to joke about in the unfunniest situations.
David wasn’t laughing. ‘He’s just turned this race into a demolition derby, with us as prime targets.’
Matt looked sick. ‘Yeah. Think of how many episodes have been about the Constellation investigating or avenging the unpleasant ends of Federation Fleet types who got whacked doing the right thing.’
‘Just because we’re supposed to be the good guys doesn’t mean we can’t be tricky,’ Andy pointed out. ‘Lots of captains have outwitted powerful - and nasty -opponents.’
‘Yeah,’ Leif said. ‘But it’s a lot easier to do that when it’s written into the script. Here. The plot will follow what the racers do. If the writers come up with a way for Captain Venn to trick whoever blows us up, it doesn’t really help us very much with the race.’
‘We’re stuck with defense,’ David said. ‘We’ll have to watch out for anything and everything.’
‘Wasn’t that what we were supposed to be doing before?’ Andy asked.
Leif ignored him, turning to David. ‘How likely is that Hara kid’s claim that he was sabotaged? All the ship designs were in Pinnacle’s computers.’
‘Where they could be messed with,’ David said grimly. ‘Remember how our lights dimmed when Hal Fosdyke made his announcements?’
‘That was just to get our attention,’ Matt said.
David nodded. ‘But what got my attention was that someone was affecting how the Onrust operated - from outside the bridge.’
‘But to crack the studio’s computers - I mean, a big corporation—’ Matt began.
‘Casa Beverly Hills belongs to a big corporation too, and someone apparently cracked their computer,’ David pointed out.
Most likely the same someone, Leif thought. Only this is going to be lots of fun.
Although Wallenstein had finished talking, he sent around a bunch of publicity types who talked a lot. They busily did damage control, smoothed over what could be smoothed over, took abuse from those who wouldn’t be smoothed, and in general got the company’s way.
Everyone received a new address in the corporation’s local-net, as part of a stab at greater security consciousness, and an offer of a free lunch at the commissary.
Greats Leif thought, rolling his eyes. So my dad won’t be able to get in touch with me, Pm sure a different computer address will really slow down this character who apparently cracks systems with ease. And between the stress and the glorified cafeteria foody I’ll probably get heartburn.
The other members of his team had wolfed down their lunches and rushed off to Casa Falldown, eager to recheck the Onrust and create whatever measures they could to protect their racer, Leif had felt that he wouldn’t be much help in their effort, though he had promised to catch up with them later.
He ate slowly, without much interest, scanning the crowd in the commissary. So far, no beautiful young starlets had come over to ask for roles in whatever project he might be working on.
And when he’d seen anyone he recognized as a member of a competing team, he’d generally gotten a glowering response.
For a publicity ploy that was supposed to increase world understandings Ultimate Frontier has only managed to create a bunch of new enemies, Leif thought. We were already suspicious. But after what these kids learned this morning, I guess inter-team friendship is at an all-time low.
He heard a low giggle come from behind him, and shifted in his chair.
Well, pardon me, Leif thought. Maybe I was wrong.
Ludmila, the blond girl from the Carpathian Alliance, sat close to Jorge, the boy cadet from Corteguay. ‘It doesn’t matter that you’re ahead of us now. We will reach the buoy first,’ Jorge boasted. ‘My friend Miguelito, he has refined the ship-handling software so that we can time our breakout to the nanosecond. We can ride the current right to the gravity barrier.’
‘But won’t that be dangerous to try in this system?’ Ludmila asked. ‘There’s a black hole beyond our target star. If you don’t break out i
nto normal space in time, you could overshoot - and be sucked in.’
Jorge put a proprietary arm around her shoulders. ‘There is no chance,’ he assured her, showing off strong, even teeth. ‘Our software is that good.’
I guess he’s good-looking - in a big, beefy way, Leif thought. Somehow, I thought she’d have better taste, though.
The conversation must have shifted to more personal topics. Ludmila’s dimples showed again as she leaned close to the young cadet, her voice low.
Leif didn’t want to listen, but he caught the word ‘pictures.’ Ludmila said it with a sort of sexy purr.
Jorge suddenly shot back in his chair, his eyes glittering as he looked at her. ‘Of you?’ he said in a disbelieving voice. ‘You wouldn’t really send them?’
Ludmila’s dimples showed again as she leaned close to the young cadet, whispering.
Leif couldn’t hear her. He decided he should be glad about that.
‘Yes, I would!’ she said out loud. Her laugh was a sort of naughty gurgle as she leaned forward again, whispering.
‘That is something I would have to see,’ Jorge said. He dug in his pockets, finding a scrap of paper and an automatic pencil. Scribbling away, he handed over the paper, looking expectant. ‘You’ll send it now?’ he asked.
Coyly, she shook her head. ‘Tonight,’ she promised. ‘Before the next racing segment.’
Leif couldn’t stand any more of this. He pushed away from his table, his chair making a loud scraping noise on the floor.
Ludmila looked up from where she was giggling with Jorge. Her face seemed a little pinker than usual - whether it was from what she was whispering or the thought that Leif might have overhead, he couldn’t say.
I don’t know why I care, Leif thought as he circled well around the pair. It’s not as though I have any claim on her or anything.
He headed out of the commissary, looking for the path that led to Casa Falldown.
Chapter Eleven
When Leif arrived at Casa Falldown, his fellow team members were lying motionless on their computer-link couches. It was a little creepy just watching them.