by F Stephan
He felt Tasha behind him and turned at her hand on his shoulder. “Another dead end. Another one turning her back on us.”
Tasha came into his arms, kissing him, and for a short while, he forgot all his worries.
Tasha
Space station Acheron, January 31st, 2141
“Are you ready to go back, Lady?” Maricar said, half-bowing to Tasha.
Tasha suppressed a laugh. She was suited up and couldn’t reciprocate the bow. Maricar was always so formal. They had worked together for weeks, and she still knew so little of the woman.
Tasha nodded and answered equally formally, respecting her assistant. “Yes, we are. We need to be seen more often. Wish us luck.” With that, she took her helmet and settled it into position. She felt Wilfried chafing behind her. She couldn’t see him, and he was locked inside his own suit, but she was sure of his feelings. Strange. More and more in recent times, she had sensed his mood from afar. Their relationship was flourishing, but it was hard for her to draw Wilfried out, and she had to invest a lot of energy into it. Maybe the trip together would help bind us together better?
She went into the airlock and closed the door behind her. Wilfried was already at the other door, ready to open it. Once it had been a wild dream for her to travel in space. Today, it was just a sequence of well-practiced moves.
Half an hour later, they were strapped in the shuttle, and Angelo engaged the ion jets to send it Earthward. Leopold, after a month of rest, had come back from the belt with ore, which brightened their day. Maybe he wasn’t the most brilliant pilot in the eyes of the Federation, but he was the best Earth had, and he would keep the station running while they went back to Earth.
She was deep in thought when Wilfried called. “Anaru’s calling, Tasha. You need to plug into the conference.”
She switched, as he had requested, but instead of the stern Maori, she saw a dark room, Susanna, and a person in disguise. The live caption moved across the room. Tasha focused on the disguise from all angles. The person’s shape had been changed digitally, she could tell. In this age, it was hard to have a secret interview. It could even be a proxy, voicing words dictated from afar.
“This is Susanna Loewre, still at the cutting edge of information, live with the Grand Master of EarthFirst. He’ll tell you directly his thoughts on our planet and why he’s supporting those beliefs. This is live and unique from your servant Susanna.”
Tasha drew in her breath. This was a first. The journalist had positioned herself between the Federation and EarthFirst as a key player no one could remove.
The Grand master opened the show. “My fellow compatriots, I’ll stay hidden for the moment. I know my words are displeasing the mighty Federation. I know they’re currently tracking this signal and my time with you is short. Let this be clear to you. I don’t oppose the Federation out of destructive will. They are drawing us away from our planet for reasons of their own. Our planet needs us. It needs our attention. It’s calling for us. We are not meant for the stars. This dream is wrong for us. The Ancients, the Federation forebears, disappeared when they went to the stars. Many planets in the Federation have suffered when they chose this path. But we are not doomed to this life. We can choose another and live in peace and harmony on our beautiful blue planet.”
With that, Susanna began her interview.
Fifteen minutes later, the show ended, leaving Tasha wondering. “Is he right?” she said aloud.
Wilfried turned toward her. “Right about focusing on Earth, yes. Right about leaving space, not so sure. We’re providing the knowledge our planet needs. We could be connected to so many human cultures. This has always brought the best of us in the past. What intrigues me are the motives of the Grand Master. What’s in it for him?”
“What do you mean?”
“The Federation is barely interfering in the politics of our planet. Yes, one census and exam every ten years in exchange for scientists, experts and the Core Database, a knowledge repository we have barely begun using. What changes would there be if the Federation leaves? The United Organization would still oversee daily politics.”
Chaos and destruction. A place for new powers to emerge. Is it so simple?
Boris
Neutral New York, February 2nd, 2141
Sacha slept quietly on her mattress at one side of the bunker. Boris had been watching her turning again and again in her bed until he could hear her regular breathing. Sleep well, my daughter. He picked up the phone, the only connection to the control room above.
“She accepted the injection far better this time.” His wife was direct, her voice assured.
“I’d say so. She said the tigroids are helping her now. She never talked about them in the past.” Boris felt lost at this. His daughter had always had a bond with the fearsome beasts, but something had happened during the second syringe of nanites. “What about your analysis? Do you have the first results?”
“Yes.” The answer was short, the tone sad.
Boris knew what it meant, and he took a few moments before continuing. With his daughter in the same room, even asleep, he couldn’t say anything specific. “So, our scenario is confirmed.”
“Yes, we need another syringe and we don’t have one. What should we choose?” Go to my former employers or go to the Federation.
“Maritschka, I’ve read the news and I don’t like what my employers are doing. I’ll ask for the heiress. Tasha. Get her to come and see Sacha.”
“Good. Our daughter will need you for a few days, and then you can go. I’m so tired, Boris.” She closed her eyes, rested her head on the chair, and fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.
After five years, this was the first time she had admitted it. We are at the end of our course. We can’t go further without help. Whatever the Federation decides, I’ll accept its decision.
He had to save his daughter, but also his wife. They were all reaching their limits. He’d wait for Sacha to recover. Then, he would do another trip to the radiation hell where he could send his messages.
Josh
Brasilia, February 5th, 2141
For the last century, Brasilia had dug its way underground, a labyrinth of tunnels fifty yards below ground, to escape the heat of the desert that Central Brazil had become. Brasilia hadn’t been the capital city since the end of the Republic, but it remained the financial heart of the country, and Jorge Da Silva had reinforced its power when he had chosen to locate most of his plants in the bunkers built during the war. He had transformed the whole derelict structure into a fortress, a desolate ruin into a thriving city. But like many of his past strongholds, its strengths hid weaknesses. And Josh had built all of his plans using them.
He moved slowly between the surface buildings. The once modern buildings were now abandoned, left for wild animals. But Jorge, who wanted to appear as the inheritor of the past, hadn’t destroyed them, thus leaving a path into his den.
Josh sniffed at the wind. Jaguars. Two of them tracking me. He knew them, knew of them. They were relics of a past in which men had thought to have their wars fought by improved beasts. Those same men had fallen under the claws of their creatures. But here and now, they wouldn’t let him go without a kill. Quickly, he crossed the plaza to the Estadio Nacional and the great TV tower. It had fallen partially to the ground, but he found handholds to climb and in a few pulls he reached a platform high enough to overlook the plaza.
The mimetic capacities of the two predators had been tweaked by the military and were hard to see as they blended with the background. Josh cursed himself for not bringing his night googles. They were too cumbersome; he had told himself before leaving. He focused on his breathing and the texture of the bare metal.
Movement to my left, leaves shuffling on my right. They’ve got me in a pincer.
He let the air out of his lungs slowly as he let loose a first series of shots to his left. With the silencer on, the plaza remained still, only disturbed by the noises of impacts. The sound was no louder tha
n a branch falling on the ground and would not trigger the underground sensors. Another movement in front of me. The leader of the tribe. Three. Damn them. Jorge Da Silva was more prudent than Josh had deemed him to be.
Another breath and new shots, without success. He cracked a false tooth implanted in his jaw, releasing the latest combat drug he had found. Adrenaline surged in him. The blood pounded in his head. His vision narrowed but increased tenfold. Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight…
Seconds flew by. At zero, he would be blind for a minute, and dead unless…
Shrubs moved below him. He aimed, fired one deafening shot, and the first hunter fell. Did someone hear? Forty-five, forty-four. A push on the ground, then a rustle of leaves announced the jump of the second beast. He turned in time to aim another shot. The beautiful predator twisted in mid-air and fell dead.
He crouched once again on the platform, looking around. Ten, nine…
Nothing moved. Suddenly, a powerful jaw caught his right forearm, teeth crunching his metal armor. In a reflex action, he dropped the gun and it clanked on the metal. His left hand, clenched in a fist and reinforced by a steel ring, beat the beast, hammering into its head. He broke its nose and one side of its jaw, and the hunter dropped to the ground, fleeing. With his left hand, Josh took his pistol, aimed, and killed the jaguar. Its body snapped on impact and the plaza was once again quiet under the stars. Zero. The dark surrounded him.
Fully blind now, he reached into his backpack. Guided by touch alone he took out a syringe of anti-venom and injected it in his arm. Fire burned through him and spasms of agony overwhelmed him.
When his sight returned, what he saw wasn’t pretty. Below the armor, the teeth had torn his muscle to shreds. He clenched his teeth and waited another ten minutes, monitoring the plaza. Other beasts would come to feed on the dead animals, and he had to move away. Security would check the sounds too, sooner or later. He climbed down, losing his handhold and falling the last yards into a small, thorny bush.
With difficulty, he reached the old sports arena less than one hundred yards away. Another abandoned building which had held famous games. But he was only a visitor. He soon found the air vent he had been looking for. It was protected from all manners of physical intrusion. Josh didn’t care. In the deep of night, it was letting the air in from outside to refresh the installation. Josh plugged the can of gas and the releaser a yard above the air vent and engaged the countdown. No one could reach Jorge Da Silva to kill him in the midst of his staff and bodyguards. But if one was willing to kill a few thousand workers, one could reach the conglomerate leader.
Josh limped to the nearby river with no other incidents. The boat was waiting for him, as had been planned. He untied it and rolled into the small canoe. Another job carried out as planned. And I’m even alive, he laughed bitterly, holding his injured arm with his left hand.
Susanna
Neutral New York, February 6th, 2141
The old Metropolitan Museum of Art shone with a thousand lights under the New York sky. The city had survived behind the great dike, the most stupendous public work of the late NorAm Union. Tasha greeted all the participants at the great doors, dressed in a sleek silver and dark-green gown and a diamond necklace. In contrast, Susanna had chosen a red lace gown and a black scarf tied around her neck. She stood to one side, drones filming each arrival, letting her former rival host the event. She needn’t do any more, since most of the newcomers stole glances at her.
“Dear watchers, Pilot Natalya Podorovski has today convened a grand ball to build an independent foundation that will support the space station, when Earth needs to act on other matters. Like the bees today. Will she receive enough money from private support to make this come true? Will it be another masquerade or a true reality? We will find out tonight.”
A delegation from the Federation arrived, led by the Envoy. The guests scampered away from the entrance, letting the Marines secure the space. Susanna caught all the panic with her drones.
“By its very presence, this station is creating great unrest on the planet, and we all condemn the recurring attacks against the space industry and the Federation. I join my prayers with those of all our friends in South America weeping for Jorge Da Silva, and the thousands of his citizens who died last week in Brasilia.”
She spotted Isabel Mascherano, in a dark business suit, and motioned to her. “Any comments from EarthFirst about this night and the recent events?”
“We believe any money collected tonight should go to Earth, Susanna. It could make a real difference where it’s needed. Yet, this is a novel approach for the space activities, and we will listen today. More than that, we state today that we will never accept violent actions. Do not mistake our presence. We are not supporting Miss Podorovski. We are condemning those butchers who murdered a city last week to get at a few people.” Her voice was firm and her eyes were fixed on the camera. Perfect, my dear. You’re wonderful.
Other officials were arriving, some from the United Organization with Anaru, Killian and Rui, all in black. But as Susanna counted the line of cars, she could see how few had, in truth, answered the call. The night would be a failure, the numbers speaking for themselves. I will be nice and supportive all I want. It won’t change a thing. My conglomerate will even participate! The hypocrisy of the whole setup delighted her.
Wilfried
Earth, February 6, 2141
“—this is why we need your help. You’re all among the leading individuals in our world. If you commit your support to this foundation, you will help link Earth to our brethren in space and bring back what we need to survive the oncoming storms. This is the greatest investment you can make for our future. Until then, I invite you to the ballroom. Let’s enjoy this time together.”
There was thunderous applause and cheering in the room – at least, from the few who had attended. Tasha beamed at her audience, unleashing her charm.
Wilfried waited to one side, uncomfortable in his formal black suit. He hadn’t grown up dressed as a penguin, and he didn’t like the feeling. He also had Susanna interested in him, and he was hiding from her. What mischief is she up to now?
The guests rose and filed into the ballroom. Wilfried began to follow, lost in the crowd, then was joined by Elisabeth Evans, who wore a traditional grey gown.
“Good evening, Pilot. How are you finding our party tonight?”
“Very nice, thank you, Director.” The direct conversation betrayed their month of working together on the station. Few others had tried to talk to him. “I have had news from my brother. Four months old, but news. He has new friends but is split from everyone from Adheek.”
Wilfried had received a message that morning as well, and the short note from Brian had worried him. An isolated Brian wasn’t good news. Emily had written as well, but she seemed OK, surrounded by the others who had studied with them for the last three years. Yet, he smiled at Elisabeth. “He seems OK. Let’s give him some time to settle in. We will know more by spring.”
“How is the party?” She moved to a quiet corner of the ballroom.
“Nice attendance. I’d prefer more people, though.”
“You’d have gotten more if the Cattlin family hadn’t played against you all they could.”
“Wasn’t it the attack on Brasilia after the Grand Master interview?” Wilfried wondered.
“It didn’t help. But, didn’t you wonder why Nikolai is absent today? He had to show some distance to avoid direct attacks. The Cattlin Matriarch hates the Federation, and you, far more than I could have imagined.”
“Is she that powerful? I know her sister has a mandate in the United Organization.”
“She is. Her sister is the only known face of her empire. She controls transport everywhere on the planet. And shops and businesses. Not large brands, but small outfits. All who do business globally have to heed her. Her requests are rare. But they are not negotiable.”
“What in hell did we do to deserve this? I never even knew she ex
isted,” Wilfried replied, his rage barely held in check.
“She’s an Opposer.” She said it quietly, as if it explained everything. Opposer had been the name of the Political Party set up against the Federation. Created just after Contact, it had quickly lost momentum during the riots which led to the murder of Li Bao’s parents. It had never regained a great amount of support afterward and was now entirely replaced by EarthFirst.
“Emily was selected. One of the best pilots in the Federation. She should be proud of her daughter, instead!”
Elisabeth took his arm. “You do understand that the Cattlins had to have someone take part in the pilot exam set up by the Federation. You may not know that the Matriarch had always been very protective of her family before that day. Her only daughter was not well known, and records are scarce. But I am sure of one thing.” She paused slightly, catching his eyes. “There are no records of her niece before Contact.”
“But they checked bloodlines during the exam. So, Emily is a Cattlin! There can be no doubt about it.”
“That’s the second piece of information I have for Tasha and you.” Elisabeth turned to face him. “Emily has her father’s blood. There cannot be any doubt of that. There are no traces in the database of her mother’s blood.”
This was so big it took Wilfried a few seconds of stunned silence to swallow the information. Emily didn’t plan to come back. Ever. Is this why?
“Could her father help us?”
“All the money and power comes from the Matriarch. He was a match to tie trade contracts for the southern part of the NorAm Alliance. His family acts like an informal hub in Central America, but it doesn’t have links in higher society. One last piece of information I heard. The man may have business relations with your brother. With that, I see some acquaintances I need to meet.” In a louder voice she added, “Tell me if you get any other news from Brian.”