by F Stephan
He had still a few minutes to go. He checked his weapon. Guns were forbidden throughout most of NorAm, ever since the great civil war that had thrown the old countries into chaos. Josh had always had a love for those countries, their freedom and hopes, and their love of arms. He smiled. Days ago he had tinkered around to adapt a magnetic accelerator to a long wooden tube. Federation technology found in their own database. It projected a small metal ball one klick away at close to the speed of sound, and it was perfect in these conditions.
He returned to his surveillance to see his target arriving with his bodyguards, securing the whole restaurant. From outside. A group of executives in their dark uniforms joined him. Josh waited ten minutes, letting them settle in, without seeing Elisabeth Evans. Damn. I must hunt for her. Well, until then, bye bye, Mister Executive.
A small click, a rush of wind, and a silhouette fell. Within thirty seconds, he had dismantled his weapon and left the park, mingling with the joggers.
Anaru
Neutral New York, November 8, 2140
“Could you tell, Mister President, why our space station has reopened the lunar operation when it can’t operate properly? When we have a new death up there?” Laureen Cattlin gloated, standing up at one side. The foremost opponent to space activities, and to the Federation, now held now everyone’s attention. Damn her, Anaru thought. Her niece is on Alkath, becoming our first interstellar pilot, even more qualified than Tasha, and the only thing this bitch can think of is to isolate Earth from every other planet. The Councilor continued to hammer her words relentlessly at Rui, the speaker, while Anaru watched.
Anaru saw Nashiz at the side of the chamber, fuming. This would be one of the worst days for the Federation since the arrival. The day when all its opponents had gathered to strike a simultaneous blow. Isabel Mascherano, the EarthFirst spokeswoman, was also present, waiting in the back room, ready to deliver a stunning speech to Susanna.
Killian, Anaru’s advocate in the Council chamber, rose, his face stern. “This is a grievous time, Laureen. But you combine two different things in the same sentence. Twenty days ago, the committee reduced the budget of the station and the number of flights there, following your request to reallocate funds. The station is looking for closer sources of food as you requested, hence the reopening of the moon station. Now what do you want? Spend less money, or more?” His voice had risen and finished as a shout.
Whispers rang in the chamber. They hadn’t seen that angle yet, hadn’t waited to gather more information on what was happening. Laureen, we’re not entirely stupid, you know! Killian had won time for Tasha. Anaru just hoped that the pilots and their crews would be able to reactivate the hydroponic farms, a difficult task after the long shutdown.
Laureen didn’t take long to respond. “And the death, is this linked to the budget reduction as well?”
“Accidents happen in space. Antonio disregarded procedure. The recordings are clear. You can watch them for yourself. Fools die in space and we can’t blame our team for fools. Nor should we.”
“You may be right. But if they continue losing crew of showing inefficiencies, we’ll request the transfer of the station back under Earth control.” She doesn’t have enough voices to act yet. But she’s close to it. “When I think of my poor niece Emily at the hands of the Federation on far-away Alkath, I shudder at the risks she is facing.”
Laureen had been a judge in her youth, before she went into politics, and she had a flair for drama. You don’t want to bring Emily back, do you? Or her mother would put up more of a fight. Why is the family so happy to send her so far away? Anaru had no way to spy on one of the most ancient and powerful clans in NorAm, but he would have given a lot to know the truth.
“Now to our second question. Over the last week, three Earth personnel working for the Federation have been targeted by terrorist attacks. What is the United Organization doing about this? We’ve to protect our people!” Four now. The NorAm general manager for Flight this morning. Sniper shot from a distance. We have lost four key people in the NorAm space organization.
Killian intervened again. “My dear Laureen, what is EarthFirst doing to abate the tension? Couldn’t our dear Isabel order her troops to stand down? Shouldn’t we ask the people behind all of this directly?”
Anaru watched as chaos took over the room. Confusion in the council. Laureen wanted to have the news reporting the death. Another inefficiency of the Federation, another cause of death for our citizen. Even if the shooters are coming from our own planet, the only message tonight on Susanna’s show will be that the Federation is a herald of death and destruction.
Tasha
Space station Acheron, November 9, 2140
“Ashes to ashes. We say farewell to Antonio, our fellow crewmember. Let us all share our memories of him for the last farewell.”
Tasha’s words echoed in the large cafeteria where only two workers stood. Antonio hadn’t been liked, and it showed. Before the ceremony, they had brought the bagged body of the astronaut into the main airlock. They couldn’t afford wood to bury him nor had they any place to do so. Neither could they burn the body. So, at Tasha’s command, high-frequency vibrations had shattered it into dust. This was a sad moment, made even sadder by the lack of emotion shown by the crew. Fortunately, it was brief, only a few painful minutes.
She left as soon as it was finished, returning to her office. A signal was blinking on her console and she opened a 3D immediately, looking for a distraction. Her brother appeared in his office.
“Nikolai, you asked for me?”
His features were drawn, his eyes dark-rimmed. “We’re in trouble. With the fear about bees and the multiple tempests, Reborn Russia has gone into another recession.”
“Many countries will follow.”
“And since we are linked with you, our Conglomerate is under attack at home.”
“They are looking for a scapegoat. And we are out of reach.” Her shoulders slumped. “Distance yourself from us. You can’t fight on all fronts at the same time.”
He bowed to her. “Yes. I’ll try to help as I can. But it must remain discreet.”
“Well, you got us started. So, thank you, brother. It’s my turn to draw their attention.”
“Do you know what you’ll do?”
She smiled. “As father said, prepare, prepare, and take all opportunities you have. The wheel of chance will turn eventually in our favor.”
Behind him, she heard the soft sad voice of her mother. Tasha hadn’t seen her. “You even said it like him. You may still become what he hoped. Good luck, daughter.”
Josh
Mississippi Peninsula, November 24, 2140
“We’re in.”
The words echoed in Josh’s ear, waking him from his sleep. The boat pitched slowly. Startled, he fumbled for his console in the dark, tracking down the noise. He activated it quietly, not disturbing the peace of the small river boat. A dot appeared on his screen. Colombian drug processing plant.
“Team two, one deck down.” Another voice spoke in his commlink, higher pitched. The words were translated by the console. Adheeken. Federation Marines. In the dark of his small cabin, he reviewed the site, a former oil drilling station later converted into a space launch station. They had used it for six months now to refine the drug received from space in small asteroids. Josh didn’t know where they came from, but he loved the irony of the joke. Nothing could distinguish them from the ore nuggets sent by the station.
“Two crewmembers down and tied.” A new voice again in his ear. They’ve sent four Marines, a full squad to take out our plant. He checked his signal. Years ago, their mole had given them the design of a Federation transmitter. They had built them and installed them in all their plants. They were still undiscovered. Through it, Josh listened to all the Marines’ transmissions. He found this somewhat strange. He could remotely monitor their traps all over the world, but he couldn’t talk to his employers unless he returned to the base. They had refused to in
stall the device there. The mole is useful but not to be trusted.
He called up a detailed schematic of the plant in front of him. The Marines were now deep inside the central bunker under the former launch platform. Most of the employees had been taken and were gathered in the command room. Now, we start the fun. Farewell, troublemakers. With a mocking laugh, he sent the prearranged order to his relay and watched the show.
Bbbbrrrrrrooooouuuuummmmm. Four explosions detonated.
“We’re under attack. Evacuate location and regroup outside.”
The security doors around the old launch area had closed now, locking the Marines inside. New explosions blasted the four pillars on which the sea platform rested. It plunged straight into the sea, falling thirty yards in seconds. Delightedly, Josh watched the little dots of the Marines flying around in his 3D.
“Blast a way out.” They were still alive and fighting.
“We can’t cut through them. What are those walls made of?” Reinforced steel, concrete, and lead. All meshed together with oil capsules. Water was now pouring into the external tanks of the station. Josh had worked for months on the timing, and he had planned the whole destruction to last less than five minutes. Two minutes had now passed and the plan was right on schedule. Now we’ll see if you can escape my little trap.
“I’ve got a hole.”
Josh triggered another relay and oil capsules exploded around the command center.
“Commander, oil is coming in.” Congrats on stating the obvious.
“We’re going to burn alive. Noooo!” Losing your nerve already? You won’t make it. Josh didn’t know who they were, but at last his trap was closing on them and he enjoyed the sense of control it gave him over their lives.
“Stay calm. All to me. We’re going down.” Good on you, boy. Maybe you’ll survive. He had barred all ways up. But if they could reach the belly of the sea platform, they might find an escape route.
The dots plunged downward. Josh activated a new relay and a wave of flames engulfed the room while the platform sped deeper down in the ocean. Four minutes now. He lost the signal as it plunged below the water.
He replayed the whole sequence, looking for new improvements and smiling at the dead Marines. I’ll have to watch for the news. See if some make it back to the surface. One, maybe two.
Now he would have to set up a new processing station. His employers had stated this priority long ago. They had two running at any given time. One down, so one had to be created. And he still hadn’t replaced the Philippines in September. I need to stop killing and focus on another facility.
It would require new contacts and a new team, but he had gathered plenty of ideas in the last few years. The real question was whether the Federation had found the plant by tracking the nuggets from space or the traffic Earthside. The later would be the best news for them, but Josh would have to prepare for the former. Well, I’ve got a week until we reach Panama. Plenty of time to think and prepare. Anyway, our attacks are going well. Two plants sabotaged, nine targets down.
He went back to his bunk, lulled to sleep by the slow motion of the ship on the waves.
Leopold
En route to Kalgoorlie station, November 27, 2140
“And jumping.”
The procedure had become repetitive. Leopold pushed with his nanites on the singularity behind the ship and crossed the threshold through the jump point. The singularity spiked and Leopold focused all his energy on controlling it and bringing it back in check. As usual, his every cell burned. Fire ran through his body until he released his nanites, gasping for air.
“Ship is clear. Everyone, I want your reports on the ship status before lunch. We’ll debrief in the lounge while we eat.”
Leopold withdrew slowly to his cabin to crumple into bed. He closed his eyes for what seemed an instant, only to be awakened by a knock on his door.
“Can’t you leave me alone a few minutes?” he shouted at the door.
It opened halfway, and Rana, the little doctor, popped her head in. “It has been an hour, Pilot. Can I come in?”
Leopold yawned and sat on his bed. An hour already? “Come in, Rana. How can I help you?”
She closed the door behind her and sat facing him. “You need rest, Leopold. You can help me by taking a break and reducing the jumps.”
“I can’t. Sara needs me on Kalgoorlie. And we have to bring back all the ore we can to Acheron. We’re in big trouble there.” He was proud of how it sounded. Like I truly mean it.
“Leopold – for an instant, my monitor turned red.” Her hands were shaking, and tears rolled down her cheeks. “It was just for an instant and before I could do anything, it went back to green.”
Leopold felt a shiver run through his body. Red meant she had to terminate his life, right there, activating the ship nanite controls.
She continued, her voice barely controlled. “It can happen, I know, but it’s a clear warning. I must report it when we reach Acheron. And you have to take it quieter and slower. There’s no other way.”
Leopold looked at her for a long moment until he let his breath out in a large sigh of relief. “Well, our dear Noul has been pestering me about letting him run a full check of the ship while at rest. Recurring issues in environmental he wants to fix. So, we’ll take a break. Soon, I promise, and I will reduce my flight schedule until then. Is that OK for you?”
An hour later, he went back to the lounge, smiling and laughing through the debrief. But inside, a cold fear had settled over his heart.
Tasha
Space station Acheron, November 30, 2140
Tasha cursed in both Russian and Federation standard. The blast had fused part of the wall behind the new power regulator, the radiation burning two workers inside their own spacesuits. She could see clearly why it had happened. The three units came from different subcontractors, and when mounted on the wall, didn’t link correctly. It was a microscopic difference but enough to melt the wall under a power spike. Their second attempt at integrating the grid fully had stopped less than an hour ago when this component had blown up. And now the whole external structure had been made fragile. They would have to replace two metal arms supporting the whole ring.
She cursed again and pushed away from the wall. Without a proper factory on the station, they needed to get the replacement parts from the ground. But without a shuttle, any blast, any minor repair, became a nightmare. Another month of delay.
Her bracelet chimed.
“Yes?” Her answer was short and exasperated.
“Is it this bad?” Wilfried’s voice was always a bit formal when he talked to her. I need to do something about this. And soon.
Her tone softened. “Sorry, Wilfried. Another dumb electrical issue. Can you send a tech down here?” She was resetting her safety line on the external hook to get out of the module. “Something we can’t repair.”
“Yes for the tech. The station is falling apart all around us. We have too many accidents and not enough shuttles bringing spares up from Earth.” His tone became quizzical. “Anything else I can do for you?”
“No, thanks. I’m coming back up the wheel. We’ve got to do something about this situation.” She flipped slowly outside, pointing her legs away from the module. Once secured in position, she moved her hook to the main rail connecting the inner modules to the exterior wheel. With that, she pulled herself along the line, hand over hand. She used the time to check the other activities in space that day. Team five was around the main crane, assembling the last pieces created by the laboratory. Team two was setting up a radiation shield around the transshipment area. She heard their voices over the radio; their tone was edgy but normal. Not normal, but no worse than in recent days. She stole a quick look at the Earth above her. With her naked eye, she could see a massive storm raging over the South Atlantic Ocean. Further north, ice was accumulating again on the polar cap. How long until the gulf stream shifts north again?
Five minutes later, she was inside the airlock
, getting out of her suit. She took time to hang it properly. She exchanged her boots for her slippers and moved back to her office.
She looked at the map of Acheron in the middle of the room. A month before, it had been mostly green. Now it had turned orange and red as equipment failed without being replaced. Morale was low and the moon station could not operate to produce fresh food. She heard muttering during every mealtime in the cafeteria. Unrest was increasing. She fought as hard as she could, supported by Wilfried and Leopold, but they were failing. Unless…
An hour later, Jeanne de Savigny, the head of European space operations, and Elisabeth Evans, now head of NorAm Flight, joined her on a call.
“Another accident, we heard?” began Jeanne.
“Conditions in space are too harsh,” Tasha said. “We can’t continue like this. This is why I wanted to talk to you.” Parasites scrambled the signal and the avatars blurred. She waited until their shape stabilized. “I need help.”
“Interesting,” answered Jeanne. Elisabeth was watching without a word. “Well, since I do heartily approve your reopening of the moon station, and since I know the trouble you have with the farms…” How does she know we can’t grow anything down there? Tasha cursed inwardly. “I had thought about offering my on-site assistance in waking up the environmental side. Time for a bit of stale air.”