Spheres of Influence

by Bob Mauldin

  “There is no way in hell, gentlemen, that something as enormous as the Galileo could remain a secret for long. Sooner or later—and we were betting on sooner—someone would find out and there would be consequences on a global scale.”

  The colonel settled into one of the massive, leather-covered chairs, and with every outward sign of confidence said, “Okay, Captain, enlighten us as to what those results would be.”

  “I’ll be happy to, Colonel, but first, let me clear something up. I’ve given you and your rank every bit of civility I know how. If you ever speak to me in that tone of voice again, I’ll take one of our lasers and make you wish you’d never seen me. Do I make myself clear?” She stalked over to her guards with her hand out, and one of them placed a pistol in her hand. She let it dangle, pointing at a sensitive part of his anatomy. By the time she had stopped talking she was bending over the chair, knowing her cleavage was revealed down to her bellybutton, but the colonel only had eyes for the gun in her hand.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said apologetically enough that she almost believed he meant it. She handed the pistol back without looking at who it had come from and returned to her place in the room.

  “I don’t know how long you’ve been in the loop, Colonel,” she continued, “but we’ve had a few years to consider the ramifications of our actions. Have you ever had to deal with a bully, Colonel?” Lucy’s pacing had brought her back to the hapless officer again. “We give the ship to you and the balance of power changes. The whole planetary dynamic is thrown off. We give it to anyone and the balance changes. No one would let that government or entity alone. If they didn’t get their share immediately, they’d do their best to see that no one got it. That would mean two things, Colonel—the end of the United States you swore to protect and the end of life on Earth as we know it.”

  All eyes followed Lucy as she left the colonel and began to pace the floor. “Colonel, before you could learn to operate the ships’ defenses, how many countries would launch nuclear missiles to destroy the Galileo rather than let you have sole possession? At least three! And the result of that, Colonel?” Lucy said, badgering the older man. “After a world-wide nuclear exchange with no benefit in sight for anyone, Colonel, every political system on the planet would disintegrate almost overnight. Stock markets would plunge, making the crash of the last century look like a small dip. Every transportation line in the country would be broken, and no food would reach the millions of people stranded in the megacities like New York and San Francisco, just to name two. Greed and corruption would run rampant, and every nation on the planet would collapse under the weight of the political decadence that would remove all hope from the disillusioned masses. Around the world, assassinations would serve to destabilize any remaining solvent governments, leaving the wicked and the meek alike to fend for themselves.

  “It’s the scared little man who’d be blamed for the fall of civilization, Colonel, if there were any left to write the history books. But it would be the greed and fear of men like you who’d be the real root cause of the end of the world.” Lucy looked down at the man in the chair with contempt. “As long as there’s one person the planet who would try to make that scenario come to pass, we need people like you, Colonel, to remind us of what we shouldn’t become. Even though I find that personally offensive, I can still recognize a fact when I see one. As you should, Colonel. And the basic fact is that we did right by keeping the Galileo out of governmental hands.”

  Heart racing at the thought of how she’d just spoken to a man twice her age and a representative of the most powerful country on the planet, she added almost pleadingly, “The only scenario that lets life as we know it go on is one in which no one finds out you have the ship. Think you can keep that big a secret, Colonel?”

  “I don’t know what would happen, Captain, and to tell the truth, I don’t care. That’s the job of the people appointed above me.”

  “Just doing your job, Colonel? Even somebody who follows orders blindly has a conscience. Somewhere deep down inside of you is a little place labeled ‘right and wrong,’ and I’m betting you’re going to have to reevaluate some of your precepts. If you don’t, then I feel sorry for you.”

  Changing tack fast enough to take everyone by surprise, Lucy turned to the seated ambassadors and said, “Gentlemen thank you for your time tonight. Remember, we need to have all three countries in agreement before we move into the first embassy. That having been said, can I have my secretary contact yours to make the proper arrangements?” Getting their instant agreement and business cards, she turned to the baron. “Sir, Your Grace, or Majesty, or Highness, or whatever, how do we get out of here without appearing abrupt to our newfound friends?”

  The baron, a smile on his face, said, “Gentlemen, if you would be so kind, I have a private matter to discuss with the captain. I’d be most grateful if you’d avail yourselves of the hospitality of my home for a few minutes while we talk.” He waved his hand toward the door and the five men headed out to mingle with the rest of the guests. “The rest of your party may stay as well, Captain.

  “Mag-nif-icent!” he exclaimed. “Just the right amount of wounded pride coupled with indignation and determination! You were a diplomat in another life! I’m sure of it.” Waving the four friends to sit, he continued, “And from this day on you will call me ‘Freddie!’ After the way you handled yourself, I certainly don’t want to be on the list of people who are not your friends!”

  When the door closed on the departing men, the baron turned to Lucy and her friends. “I wasn’t just making excuses when I told them I had a reason to speak to you alone.” Lucy quirked an eyebrow and waited for the baron to continue. “While my government doesn’t yet have an idea where your embassy should be, I do. Some years ago when my country hosted the Winter Olympic Games, I offered a portion of my lands to be used as housing for some of the athletes.” Seeing that he had the attention of his guests, the baron leaned forward in his chair, elbows on knees and hands clasped in front of him. “Due to the political climate at the time, that housing was built with security foremost in the minds of the contractors and construction crews. Since those games, the complex has remained dormant. I’m thinking that the front half of the first floor could be used for offices, meeting rooms, or whatever you need them to be. The back half has a swimming pool and a gymnasium. There’s another office on the second floor, with the third and fourth floors as living quarters for resident personnel.”

  “And how do you propose that we pay for this... largess, you offer, Freddie?” Lucy had imitated the baron’s posture, giving him a view of the cleavage Lady Olivia had alluded to earlier, and smiled inwardly as his eyes strayed downward.

  A supreme effort brought his eyes back to Lucy’s. “The estate will cover the utilities, of course. But it would be bad form not to exact some form of payment. I suggest one dollar a year for each year the Terran Alliance is in residence. And,” he continued before anyone could react to the offer, “I’d like a ride in one of your marvelous spaceships. Of course, you’d be nearby to attend the occasional party we have here. Not too onerous a task, I think.”

  Lucy looked at her friends. “I think we could live with that arrangement, Freddie. I’m sure the Alliance would be able to put in an appearance at most of your functions. Of course, I, personally, won’t be able to attend each one, but that won’t be a problem, will it?”

  “Of course not, Lady Lucille! I shall make the arrangements known to my government through our ambassador immediately. If they agree, we have a deal! Then, I’ll arrange for you to take a tour of the facilities. You can make your final decision at that time. And for the balance of the evening, may I suggest that we rejoin the other guests? There are still many who wish to meet you.”

  Lucy stood and took the baron’s gigantic hand in hers. “Yes, we should do that, shouldn’t we?” She reached up and pulled his head down to her level, kissed him on the cheek, and said, “And, Freddie, please call me Lucy
.”

  The big man, overcome with emotion, could only bow deeply as he opened the door and allowed the Alliance delegation to return to the gala.

  FUGUE

  Her world was a featureless void, and she inhabited her world neither thinking nor not thinking. Simple existence was more than enough effort for her. But slowly, after an indeterminate time that could have been days or millennia, a sense of self began to insert itself. With this sense of self came vague and formless... things...that she eventually decided were emotions... or possibly feelings. One thing her world didn’t give her was certainty.

  The elusiveness of these feelings, which stayed just on the edge of her perception, gave rise to an uneasiness and took away the comfort the formless void had fostered for so long. Eventually, one of those fleeting feelings got close enough to be grasped and held, to be studied and made a part of her. And when this had been accomplished, she recognized it. This ephemeral feeling was loss, and it brought with it such emptiness that she cried out in despair as much for the emptiness itself as for the fact that she didn’t know what it was she had lost. Somewhere, something decided that she should sleep.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Simon, sitting in a wheelchair in Father Timothy’s office said, “All I know is that I need to get to Denver. With my wristband ruined, the quickest way I know is to get in touch with a... recruiter we have out there.” He looked at the men in the room.

  What a crowd, he thought. A ghetto priest, a defrocked doctor, and a pawnbroker-slash-fence. And not one of them has a single reason to help me or a rogue FBI agent.

  Michael had returned to the mission within the forty-eight hours he’d hoped, wearing a worried look and carrying bearer bonds. “Fifty-six thousand dollars! And the reaction I got! They took forever to make all their tests and inquiries. So, what are you planning to do now?”

  “Head west,” Simon said. “Agent Daniels has offered to help me. Neither of us thinks we should take any kind of public transportation. I’m supposed to be dead, but my face has been shown so many times in the past few days that someone would be sure to recognize me. So, it’s the lesser of two evils—a car. Know where we can buy one?”

  As plans have a habit of doing, these grew. The brothers Jeffers had convinced themselves that they were coming along to volunteer. They’d been fans of science-fiction since they were kids and still enjoyed their old argument. “Of course you think a lightsaber is more elegant! You preferred armored knights before that. But look at the simplicity of a phaser!”

  They laughed at their private joke while Simon and Daniels shook their heads.

  “How about taking my Winnie?” Michael suggested “She’s old, but I keep her up. Three days for my guy to get her out of storage and checked out. I can always fly out and drive her back... after. Brian said you need that long anyway before you’re fit to travel. Sleeps six, so the four of you should have plenty of room.” At Simon’s lifted eyebrow, he exclaimed, “Hey! Some of us can’t just get up and go traipsing around the country. But take the RV. That way, I’ll be there in spirit.”

  That evening, Simon first watched Lucy’s broadcast and then his own funeral. “It’s spooky knowing that’s supposed to be me,” he said, staring up at the startlingly green trail left by the reentering coffin. “but now I have more questions than ever. If they think I’m dead, why isn’t Kitty on the television? She was second in command. She should be First Captain.” His mind tried desperately to skirt the possibility that the broken and battered Mamba the news report showed being carried back to space after the destruction of the shuttle had been piloted by Kitty. Or maybe she was in mourning. Somebody had to take over, but to not know for sure...

  “And what is Lucy likely to do now? I’d just love to hear some of the meetings on the Hill,” Roland said. “That’s what’s going to be on the mind of every person the planet. You do know they are afraid of you, don’t you? Because you have power they don’t.”

  “Hell, even I don’t know what she’ll do!” Simon winced as he slapped the right arm of his chair and felt the vibrations all the way into his left shoulder and wrist. And the new cast made him feel clumsier than ever. “I thought she was pretty bright and a quick thinker, or I wouldn’t have given her a ship in the first place. But she can be a little rash at times. All the more reason to get to Denver as soon as possible.”

  A pissed off, worried Simon was nearly impossible to be around, much less live with for any length of time. Kitty could have told his companions this, but they wouldn’t have listened. Men tended toward being problem solvers, and Simon’s attitude had become a problem. The fact that they couldn’t remove the cause any more than he could didn’t help either.

  Simon worried about Kitty constantly. He wanted her to know he was still alive so she wouldn’t worry. And, not incidentally, her knowing he was alive would result in his rescue. And rescue was just how he’d come to see it. Loner that he’d always been, it had been easy enough to conceive of leaving Earth and all that meant. He’d still be dependent on the planet of his birth for some time yet, but it really was only a matter of time.

  His frustration was at his forced idleness and inability to do for himself. Having his left wrist in an inflatable cast meant he couldn’t use a cane to get around while his leg healed. And he’d be confined to the vehicle during the entire trip.

  He was pissed at the deaths of three people who’d trusted him and for whom he felt responsible. Maybe more, he thought as he remembered the pictures of four Mambas hauling a fifth back up to the Galileo. Simon blamed himself for their deaths, no matter that they were dead due to the ambush. I should have considered the possibility. I should have made plans.

  Michael picked up the four men and drove them to his house in the suburbs so he wouldn’t have to thread the big vehicle through city traffic any more than necessary.

  A week had passed since Simon had been wounded, and he was able, for short periods of time, to hobble around without his chair. The able-bodied members of their small party moved supplies into the nearly-bus-sized rig prior to their departure as Simon looked on in frustration.

  The Winnebago left the small community of Falls Church, Virginia, and headed west. The battered-looking RV with the cracked vinyl spare-tire cover proclaiming it to belonging to “The Reardon’s,” got onto the road four days after the funeral broadcast to Earth.

  Simon slept through most of the days’ drive, courtesy of Dr. Brian. “I just slipped a sedative in with his antibiotics. He needed the rest. He’s on orals now, so it was easy.”

  “And not incidentally gave us a rest from his temper, too?” Father Timothy asked.

  “Think what you want, big brother. He needed the rest, and it helped keep us sane. Besides,” he said, glancing at his watch, “we’ll be parked for the night soon, and he’s due to wake up anyway. We’ll have dinner, and then he’ll go back to sleep and so can we. This has been a long day for all of us, and tomorrow is time enough for him to be staying up more. I’ve finally gotten the infection under control. All he needs now is time to let the damage heal.”

  Tuning the little TV to a local channel while they ate their Chinese meal that had been delivered, the four were treated to the next phase of Lucy’s agenda. The news anchor said, “Due to the secretive nature of the dealings with the Terran Alliance, we were fortunate to have had a correspondent in Switzerland when word of the landing was released. Our Sarah Parker brings us the details.”

  The screen flickered and a young brunette stared out of the screen. “Thanks, Pete. I’m Sarah Parker, reporting from Zurich, Switzerland where we’ve been lucky enough to capture the landing of the Terran Alliance spacecraft on camera.” The screen shifted to a view that was unmistakably an airport. “A shuttle that appears to be identical to the one destroyed at Camp David early last week is landing here in Zurich.” the woman’s voice said over the picture. “Also with the shuttle are four of the ships called Mambas, leaving me to wonder if they’re the s
ame four that hauled the damaged craft back to... wherever. They do appear different in that these four are painted with the image of some kind of bird.”

  The picture zoomed in to show a closeup of the lead Mamba landing between the camera and the shuttle. Just under the edge of the cockpit, a name could be seen—Dahlquist, Shirley, Commander. Emblazoned on the nose of her ship was the legend, “Red Shift.”

  The scene moved as the cameraman jockeyed to get a view of the occupants emerging from the shuttle. “Rumors here are that the Terran Alliance has decided to take their case to the United Nations. In an apparent attempt to mollify the Alliance, the Security Council has agreed to meet on neutral ground and hear from the Alliance Commander, Lucy Grimes. We managed to get a shot of her party as they stepped onto the tarmac, preceded and followed by armed guards.”

  Simon named each one as they appeared. “Lucy, of course. And there’s Marsha, along with Gayle and Stephen. I don’t recognize any of the bodyguards. Not a sign of Kitty.”

  Simon seemed to live on an emotional rollercoaster over the following days. Father Timothy tried to help as best he could, but when all was said and done, it was truly up to Simon to get past those hurdles on his own. The continuing lack of any word about Kitty in the news stories that were constantly airing began to be a dull ache at the back of his mind as he continued to learn to cope with his disabilities. And those were lessening daily, with a corresponding improvement in attitude, both of which his companions enjoyed.

  Scrupulously keeping within the speed limits so as not to arouse any more attention than necessary, the four men drove west at a sedate pace. The first night saw them at an RV camp in Indiana, the second somewhere in the Mississippi Valley, and the third found them on the Great Plains. As Simon continued to improve, he realized that moping and a foul temper weren’t helping matters.