Space Station Acheron

by F Stephan

  “Today will be my last call.”

  “Isn’t that what you said last time?”

  “Well, this time it’s closer to truth. Here is what you will do…”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “As usual. Full media coverage within twenty hours. Direct leak to Susanna. She’ll love it so much.” Josh’s voice was low and peaceful. He needed nothing more.

  The man bowed his head.

  “Now, here is what you’ll do.”

  Wilfried

  Space station Acheron, March 7, 2141

  Wilfried found refuge in the engineering section, revising the schematics for the new spare parts required for Charon. Reiner joined him, and both bent over the detailed instructions in silence. Other crew members moved back and forth, then all left for the midday break.

  Reiner lifted his head. “So, why are we hiding?”

  “We’re not. We’re checking key components for our ship. We need to finish the repairs of…”

  “Wilfried, spare me. We grew up together.” Reiner looked hard at him. “What’s happening with the Lord?”

  “He’s taking control, that’s what’s happening. With all his fancy words, all his wealth, he has promised to help nearly all crew members with one thing or another. Maricar is yapping at his heels as if we never existed. Day by day, he’s proving how short on everything we are right now. It doesn’t matter to him if we can be self-sustained. Right now, we can’t. And I don’t know how to fight this war.”

  “What is he asking of you?”

  “Just to do my job as a Pilot and nothing else. He’s so sure of himself, so condescending. As if I’m a child.”

  “Compared to him, you are. In a way. Well, get back at him. Your fist in his nose and he’ll become human again.”

  “With his security around him all the time? And with Susanna ready to shoot ‘bloody Pilots take on poor old auditor to hide the horrible truth of Acheron’?”

  “She would love that show, I agree,” Reiner laughed. “Where could you learn to fight back? Who’s said no to him?”

  “Kalgoorlie did. But that’s just running away. I wouldn’t be able to help Tasha from there.”

  “And the moon?” Andrew approached them, surrounded by others. The severe Kimi leaned on a photo frame with a grin.

  “What are you saying?”

  Reiner smiled and Andrew continued, “Jeanne has told him he isn’t welcome. He won’t trouble you there.”

  “But who will watch over the station?”

  “We will.”

  The group mumbled in agreement.

  “He can’t buy all of us. You have delivered what we all dreamt of. We will be your eyes and ears up here, while you train with our Spider.”

  Wilfried was stunned speechless.

  Kimi added, “And you can search the belt from the moon astronomical base far better than you can here. Who knows what you might learn?”

  Reiner concluded, “And the minute he makes a mistake, you’ll come down on him. There’s a shuttle leaving in an hour. We’ll smuggle you on board, like old times.”

  “Shouldn’t I inform him?”

  “Yes, you should. When the shuttle is halfway to the moon. Come.” The crew member reached out to him, shaking his hand. Mutiny, now?

  Susanna

  New Amsterdam, March 8, 2141

  Susanna caressed the massive desk which filled her office in New Amsterdam. How often had she dreamed of it, the supreme emblem of the power of her family? It was hers now, entirely hers. And her chief of operations, sitting sternly opposite her, was intruding into her pleasure.

  “So, what’s troubling you, Henrik?” They had worked together for years while she was being trained for the job. But, like all everyone else, he had let her down the minute her parents had disinherited her. He would pay for this outrage. But not now, when she needed to take back control of operations.

  “Competition has grown fierce. Especially Chinese Gardens and South African Vegetables. Both have been venturing into our markets during the recent… uh… troubled times. They are competing to get the space station contract from us.”

  “I want nothing from space.” God knew how Henrik annoyed her, with his calm voice and his constant reminders of her weaknesses.

  “I understand, Lady. But it fueled our R&D and gave us an edge. Without it, we are just another traditional player.” Precise and grey. Looking to the stars that all those idiots, as if all solutions could be found there. She would change all that, and soon. I dreamt of this job all my life, and it’s so boring.

  “I will leave again, to travel, then. We need new markets outside space. Until then, I’ll sign all other urgent requests. Thank you, Henrik.” She rose slowly, still feeling the wood under her fingers.

  Henrik left, his brisk walk showing how unsettled he was. Continue like this, dear Henrik, until you are useless. And then I’ll squash like the dirty bug you are.

  An alert rang, a soft chime in the room and she accepted the connection with the station.

  “Good day to you, my Lord. How may I humbly assist you?”

  The Lord’s tired eyes contrasted with his impeccable kimono. “Good day, Susanna. I’m going to need at least fifteen years to make the station run on its own. I need you to get them for me.”

  “Fifteen! It’s going to be hard to sell this to our audience, after our campaign to insist upon faster results, and after all the efforts I spent sending you there.”

  “You’ll have to find a way. You weren’t alone in this effort. Others helped me, as well, and they might not like what you did in Sydney, don’t you think?” Brute force – you’re really cornered, aren’t you?

  She bowed her head. “I’ll do what I can.” I was free before, as a journalist.

  Anaru

  Geneva Governmental Complex, March 10, 2141

  “This is an outrage, Anaru. He’s mocking us.”

  An hour later, Nashiz was fuming, pacing back and forth in the main conference room after watching Susanna and Lord Burroughs. “Fifteen years to finalize the station? It’s worse than your own estimates! You’ve published them to the Council two months ago and Laureen made a such a big deal on how unbearable it was.”

  “Now they’re telling the whole planet that this is a small effort to succeed. This is what we have been telling them the whole time. People are no fools. They will see through this. Give them time.” Anaru was calm, a wolfish smile on his face. Politics was often about presenting the news better than the other side. This will become harder and harder for you, dear Susanna. You should have remained independent.

  “And in the meantime, my people are still targeted by those terrorists. I’ve ordered all of them back here in Geneva.” No new deaths had been reported, but the Federation’s buildings had been targeted by gunfire and, in one case, a rocket. War was being waged against them and they needed more protection. “With the bunkers, we are protected from anything but a nuclear attack. They won’t go that far.”

  Tasha

  Reborn Russia, Voronezh, March 14, 2141

  Voronezh hadn’t changed since Tasha’s childhood. The same wide avenues with ten lanes in each direction, the same old town asleep close to the river and the new skyscrapers. It had reached two million inhabitants at its peak and, after the plagues and the contamination of the Voronezh River, was now back to one million. It felt empty and desolated, shutters closed, the outer city abandoned. Tasha fidgeted as the plane lined up with the runaway for the final approach. She noticed that the airport was no longer surrounded by dilapidated houses but by farms. Some life is coming back. Not a moment too soon.

  The single jet landed without waiting – one benefit of this age of reduced air travel – opposite the heavy dirigibles used for transport. They were slow but could easily transport large loads, avoiding dubious train connections. Tasha’s grandfather had been a pioneer in their commercial development, which had started here. They have struck us at our heart. This is where our counterattack wil
l start. Her jaw was clenched, her face pale with suppressed emotions.

  Roman was waiting for her at the foot of the airplane steps. “Pilot,” he said in a formal voice. He wore his military camo and his eyes were tired. Bad, bad. “The car is waiting for you, if you please.”

  She walked down the steps, shivering with the winter cold. Four combat drones hovered around the plane and two more flew over the armored convoy in front of her. She hurried, not running but not lagging either, and got into the middle car. Roman followed her in with two guards and Lelal, her Marine bodyguard.

  “How is he?” she asked, wasting no time on niceties.

  “He’ll live.”

  She breathed in relief. When she had landed, this was still uncertain.

  “Without his left hand. He’ll need a month to leave his bed and a good three before he can manage anything serious.”

  “But he’ll live?”

  “Everyone says so. We will follow his psychological condition during the implant of the prosthetic hand.”

  The duplicate hand would feel like a real one to all intents and purposes, but he’d be maimed for the rest of his life. All my fault.

  She took a deep breath. “OK. I want to see him now. Then I’ll see the complex. And after that, we’ll talk about our next steps.”

  The guards shivered from her cold tone. She didn’t care, and Roman nodded. In the surrounding city, bulldozers were tearing buildings down and gardens with orange trees had appeared here and there.

  The hospital was a large skyscraper from the early 21st century, with every service gathered into a single building. Around it, emergency shelters had sprawled during the worst of the plague, in a city of death and suffering. As they rushed through it, everyone hurried out of the way of the armored convoy.

  The hospital security had been warned. Once the convoy was in sight, large doors opened to an underground complex. They rushed in, the drones landing on the roofs of the convoy. In a minute, they were out and in an elevator, moving to the underground shelter.

  “What’s the security here?” Tasha asked.

  “It’s ours. The hospital is fully supported by the family. Good people. We’ve had a good medical team. Fortunately,” Roman replied.

  At the door of the elevator, a doctor in a white smock waited for her. “My lady Tasha. Doctor Subiankov of the Voronezh facility. We met a few years ago.”

  Tasha inquired in her own data net and quickly retrieved the data. “My apologies, doctor. Last time was during the Federation exam, and I was distraught. You knew my father, I believe?”

  “Yes, a great man. We played chess from time to time when he was in town.”

  She nodded. Her father would have taken time for such meetings. He always did. “How is my brother?”

  “This way, please. He’s still asleep and we won’t wake him up for at least two weeks.” He hurried down a clear light blue corridor that smelled too clean. “Your mother is with him.”

  Tasha turned to Roman. “Security risk? All of us at the same place?”

  “If they can reach us in the security bunker of Voronezh, we cannot protect you anywhere.”

  That made sense. “Our relatives? Extended family?”

  The doctor walked silently alongside them. The notes from Tasha’s father said he was cleared for that level of talk, and Roman didn’t seem to mind.

  “I activated our contingency plans the minute we heard the news. All are accounted for, back in the Urals Complex or in a secure location. I’ve also put all our plants on max security protocols. Now, and until Nikolai recovers, I need your permission to go to the next step of the defense protocols.”

  Defense protocols. Her grandfather had first designed them in his late years, having become paranoid. Then, his father had improved on them and Tasha had contributed as well. War has now begun in earnest.

  “You’re cleared to engage them. I’ll prepare a communique for our employees to tell them about Nikolai. And I’ll tell them we’re under attack.”

  “Much good it’s going to do, Little Natalya.” Out of the shadows appeared her mother, dressed in a black robe, her dark hair tied up and a single diamond around her neck. Her brown eyes flashed. “Are we under attack? Or is it you?”

  Tasha turned toward her. Roman and the doctor moved a few paces along the corridor, leaving them to face each other. For the first time since Tasha had returned, she saw how old her mother was, her face wrinkled by worry.

  “Good day, Mother. I’ll reduce them to ashes. They won’t attack us again.”

  “You’re now truly your father’s daughter. Even more than your brother. And what’s next? How many enemies did he destroy? We lived in our secure compounds all our life. Did you ever go to a market without a full set of bodyguards?”

  Tasha winced. She had been free on Adheek, for the first time in her life, and she knew precisely what her mother meant. Ever since she had married, her mother had had to live under a security shield, always at the mercy of enemies. So much resentment.

  “What would you have me do? Those people are blind killers.”

  “And your brother will have a synthetic hand. Are you out there to change the world or to keep the old order of feud, war, and revenge? I don’t want us to be protected, Little Natalya. I want the whole family to be free. Can you achieve that?”

  Tasha bent her head in acknowledgment and understanding. Can I really change this? How? When she lifted her head again, her mother was looking at her, always the judge, but with something else in her eyes, something Tasha couldn’t fathom. “I’ll try, Mother. I hear you.”

  “Good. Then, you need to see your brother. I’ll watch over him. Crush our enemies, my daughter. Don’t let any of them out alive. If you need me, I’ll provide you access with my network of informers.”

  Tasha left her mother at the hospital, looking over her brother who was sleeping peacefully, pale in his white linens, breathing quietly. Her nanite readings confirmed he had been treated well and would recuperate in time.

  The industrial complexes sprawled over ten hectares of land close to the Don River and the main railway, a maze of large anonymous hangars. The general hospital had been midway between the city and the complexes – for once, a good planning decision. Roman didn’t drive them there but to a small hill above it. Tasha could better grasp the situation there, he had said, and now, while she sat atop a small, ancient watchtower, she could see the extent of the blast. Three hangars had been knocked down, and four others were slowly being emptied. Parts and pieces were littered all over the ground.

  Tasha turned inquiringly to Vladimir Nechaiev, the overweight plant manager, who held a sandwich in his hand. He gulped his morsel and began. “We have lost half our repair capacity for the primary boosters of the space launchers. I have reopened old hangars and moved what I could there. In a month, I’ll have half the normal repair capacity.” The space launchers were reused each time, to limit the ecological impact. But half the repair capacity meant halving the number of launches as well.

  “Very well. We’ll provide what support we can to speed up things. City, suppliers, personal?”

  “All are standing firm. The city is supporting you. This is the one thing those terrorists did not expect. For months, people have been asking questions about EarthFirst and our space program. They came to me, and they were heated discussions. Then, a lunatic with a plasma rocket launcher attacks the site.” The fat man smiled cruelly. “We found him before he could kill himself, and we gave him to the city police. You know how everything leaks from there.” He chuckled, and Tasha blanched. “The whole city knows about his deeds. The launcher was a very recent model, one no one can procure on the black market. He was a mercenary, well informed and well trained. We haven’t forgotten the wars, here in Voronezh.” He took another bite of his sandwich. “Rest assured, my Lady, they have committed the whole region to your cause. Death to them all.”

  Tasha thanked him profusely. He had been a longtime supporter of her f
ather and she had known him for many years. But, deep within her, echoed the words of her mother: Are you out there to change the world or to keep the old order of feud, war, and revenge?

  Wilfried

  Lunar station, March 14, 2141

  Wilfried oriented the remote telescopes toward Earth, pointing them at Russia and Voronezh. From above, he could see the extent of the destruction that had marred the city.

  “Dear boy, you look worried.” Jeanne had entered the observatory without him noticing. I’m more upset than I thought.

  “Shouldn’t I? She’s down there.” His heart was beating fast.

  “Yes. And she needs you to take care of Acheron and Charon. She’ll be fine. She has a whole country supporting her. Haven’t you seen the vids?” Since the attack, Reborn Russia’s media had all aligned with the Podorovskis. All the tension of the past months had disappeared, leaving only an enraged nation looking for those who had attacked its own.

  He smiled thinly. She’s protected, that’s for sure.

  “This is better. Now, what will you do about Acheron?” The question came back at him, a wave hitting him repeatedly.

  “Have you watched the last report from Susanna?” She had shot a full hour of the incredible life in Acheron under its new management.

  “Yes – she’s never seemed so out of place. She isn’t good at propaganda.”

  “Lord Burroughs now commands the loyalty of the whole crew. He literally owns the station. Disgusting. His only actions have been to increase the rationing and the pressure on all workers. Otherwise, he is just continuing with our plan, albeit slower. Fifteen years instead of ten.”