by Allen Steele
Within a few days of the blockade’s commencement, India caved in. Japan remained firm, however, calling the UN resolutions illegal under international maritime law. Meanwhile, an untold number of Japanese freighters were at sea between India and Japan. No one knew for certain which of them carried plutonium or not. India’s pre-existing government was toppled by civil insurrection as a result of the crisis; its new Green parliament was in complete disarray, and Japan refused to provide any information which would interfere with the arrival of the plutonium it had already bought and shipped out of Madras. For the first time since the end of World War II, it was Japan versus the rest of the global community.
Then, on the night of May 29, 2019, the USS Boston located a Japanese freighter, the Takada Maru, in the Philippine Sea, apparently bound for Osaka. In command of the Boston was captain Terrance L’Enfant; among the members of the boarding party was Seaman August Nash…
But that was over thirteen years ago, and he couldn’t afford to think about it now. A job had to be done; he could wrestle again with ghosts at a more opportune time.
Nash restarted the message by tapping the Pause key again; the screen unfroze and the narrative continued. As he listened, he unsealed the packet containing a small collection of electret bugs, each with its own microtransmitter and attachable to almost any surface by suction pads, along with the tiny Sony microrecorder to be used with the bugs. Everything was neat and concealable; he could hide the whole apparatus in his underwear if necessary.
‘Following the cessation of hostilities between the US and the CIS in 2030,’ the voice said, ‘American and Russian military forces were withdrawn from the Cydonia region. As an indirect result of World Court arbitration which found that the CIS had been the principal aggressors, and in accordance with the UN Security Council Resolution which ended the conflict, the United States was allowed to place unarmed military observers at Cydonia Base as a token peacekeeping force to prevent further shipments of Russian munitions to the base. Although this was not in keeping with the initial demands made by the science team at Cydonia Base, they reluctantly agreed to the stipulation.’
A small padded box held a Seiko wristwatch; concealed in its LCD face was the tiny aperture of an auto-focus lens. When pressed twice in rapid succession, the microfilm camera inside the chronometer would take a flashless picture. The film micro-disc was good for seven exposures; Nash regretfully unstrapped his own Rolex Oyster and slid the Seiko onto his left wrist, making sure that the chronometer was facing out.
‘Because he was perceived to be a military officer capable of making independent decisions, and also because of opinions he had expressed during a speech at the Annapolis naval academy regarding the alien relics at Cydonia, Terrance L’Enfant was selected by the Pentagon for the assignment. Shortly after L’Enfant’s appointment, the American co-supervisor of Cydonia Base, Dr. Arthur Johnson, resigned in protest. Several other members of the Cydonia expedition followed him off the base, reducing the science team to four persons, with no American members among them. Nonetheless, the Security Council ruling remained in effect. L’Enfant’s status was subsequently upgraded and he became the new American co-supervisor, with the reluctant compliance of the European and Japanese members of the Cydonia science team. The CIS issued a formal protest, but allowed two of its scientists to remain at Cydonia…’
The image on the screen split four ways to include the faces of three other persons next to L’Enfant’s mugshot. One was a thick-bearded black man, subscripted A. Marks by the computer. The second was a wiry, prematurely-balding younger man, labeled C. Akers. The third was a young woman with crew-cut brown hair: M. Swigart. Altogether, Nash surmised, they looked as if they had been recruited from Camp LeJeune: tough guys.
‘L’Enfant has been accompanied to the base by three military officers who have been officially designated as observers: Staff Sergeant Alphonse Marks, Lieutenant Charles Akers, and Lieutenant Megan Swigart. Marks is a former US Marine Corps combat instructor, Akers was trained as a Navy SEAL, and Swigart was a former Navy A-36 fighter pilot. Although all are Annapolis graduates and have some degree of college-level education in the sciences, none are scientific specialists, nor are any of them members of the Marine Corps’ First Space Infantry. Their prior relation to L’Enfant is unknown, although he specifically requested them for this assignment…’
The screen changed again, this time to present a three-dimensional topographic layout of the City at Cydonia, including the Face and the nearby D & M Pyramid, and the smaller man-made habitat modules of Cydonia Base. The gridded map slowly rotated as the narrative continued.
‘Despite the successful penetration in 2030 of the labyrinth beneath the C-4 Pyramid, during the past two years the international science team has failed to establish further contact with the robotic aliens—nicknamed the pseudo-Cooties—who have tunneled beneath the alien city. The only progress made in this time was the discovery of a tunnel that leads directly from the D & M Pyramid to an unexplored area beneath the central cluster of pyramids near Cydonia Base.’
The tunnel was outlined in red light on the screen. ‘However, when a Russian scientist was sent into the new tunnel earlier this year, all contact with him was lost. The scientist, Sasha Kulejan, was also the Russian co-supervisor of the expedition. He is missing and presumed dead, and has not been replaced by the Russian space agency Glavkosmos due to continued political protest by Minsk against the UN Resolutions…’
Nash nodded his head; he was already aware of that situation. Although the Russians were still interested in the Cydonia Expedition, mainly because of possible technological benefits that might be derived from any new discoveries, they had erred greatly by sending military forces to Mars to back up their claims. In the end, it had been a desperate act which had backfired against the CIS. When world opinion had backlashed against the Commonwealth in the aftermath of the raid, the Russian public had voted the Nasanov government out of office and the CIS had been forced further into retreat, leaving behind only a couple of key persons at Cydonia. Now, with Kulejan’s death, only one of the Russian scientists remained at Cydonia Base, a final token-member of the CIS’s delegation to the expedition.
‘Efforts to send teleoperated probes into the tunnel have also failed,’ the voice continued, ‘destroyed upon contact with pseudo-Cootie drones which attack any intruders to the underground network. This is one of the central enigmas of the alien city, since the Face at Cydonia was obviously constructed to lure humankind into a first-contact situation, just as the labyrinth beneath C-4 was apparently intended as a test of our intelligence and ingenuity. Why the aliens are now deterring further attempts at communication, although the Face itself initially appeared to have been an invitation to homo sapiens, is now a mystery to the science team…’
A digitalized, slightly out-of-focus snapshot of a man in a skinsuit appeared on the screen; he was half-turned toward the camera, apparently unaware that he was being photographed. In the background could be seen the giant, angular shape of one of the Martian pyramids, but what was more intriguing was the fact that the man in the skinsuit was apparently cradling an assault rifle. Looking closer, Nash recognized the weapon as a 5.56 mm Steyr AUG, a gun favored by several US law enforcement agencies.
‘This photo was in a film disk which was recently smuggled out of Cydonia Base,’ the voice continued. ‘It was covertly taken by an airship pilot, Katsuhiko Shimoda, who was later killed in a flight accident near the Tharsis region. The man in the picture has been tentatively identified as Staff Sergeant Marks. He is armed with an assault weapon, a violation of the United Nations agreement since it expressly prohibited the US observers at Cydonia Base from being armed. During the last twelve months, reports to Earth from Cydonia Base have become more sporadic and less informative, sometimes containing little more than routine statistics of consumables used by the base personnel and request forms for resupply. Direct contacts with Arsia Station, the principal Mars base, have similarl
y diminished to monthly supply visits by the airship Akron. It is currently believed that Commander L’Enfant and his aides have seized paramilitary control of Cydonia Base and are prohibiting candid communication from members of the science team under threat of force. If this is so, the reasons are unknown…’
The screen split again. On the right was a diagram of an elongated, awkward-looking spacecraft which Nash recognized as an unmanned American interplanetary freighter, the type used to ferry supplies to Mars between cycleship excursions. On the left was an animated diagram of a Hohlmann trajectory between Earth and Mars. ‘Since you departed Earth orbit aboard the Lowell, there has been an unforeseen occurrence. The automated deep-space freighter Bradbury has been sent to Mars on an eight-month flight-path which will beat the Lowell to Mars rendezvous by little more than one week. We know only that a cargo pod, which was launched to orbit by a US military shuttle launched from Vandenberg and loaded onto the Bradbury just prior to its departure from LEO, has been parachuted to Cydonia Base. The contents of the cargo pod are unknown. However, given the source of the cargo, we can only assume that the payload is military in nature…’
The photo and the diagram were replaced by the Skycorp logo: a static image. ‘Pentagon officials have denied accusations of such military interference from the space industrial partners sponsoring the Cydonia investigation. Despite the circumstantial evidence, there is insufficient proof on which to base a claim of malfeasance by the US military. None of the appropriate governments is willing to risk repeating the events of August, 2030, until more hard evidence has been gathered…‘
The last item in the attaché case was the most important, perhaps, considering that the quarry was armed. The SIG/Sauer P230 was a deceptively small semi-automatic handgun; little more than six inches long, it could almost be dismissed as a gun for a lady’s handbag. Normally, Nash went unarmed on most assignments; on the rare occasions when he did pack a gun, such as bodyguard jobs, it was usually a Glock 19. But the Glock, despite its greater firepower, was much too large to be effectively concealed in a jumpsuit, while the little P230 could easily be carried in a trouser pocket without being seen. And the very last thing he wanted L’Enfant to know was that Andy Donaldson was armed.
‘Your assignment is four-fold. First, to discover whether Commander Terrance L’Enfant has taken control of Cydonia Base. Second, to discover what his future plans are. Third, to determine whether he intends to use military force to accomplish those goals. Fourth, and finally, to provide an assessment of whether his operations endanger Skycorp’s present activities on Mars…’
Nash locked the safety pin, then thumbed the magazine release beneath its blue steel barrel and reached for the box of .38 caliber ammo. As the SA armorer had promised, he had been issued fragile-nosed safety rounds similar to those used by FAA air marshals. The bullets would shatter on contact with anything more resilient than a human body and therefore not punch through a pressurized hull. One by one, he slid the seven rounds into the cartridge.
‘Your primary objective will be to gather tangible evidence that will either support or refute the claims, whether they be photos or taped conversation, through whatever covert means are at your disposal. Once you have returned to the Lowell, you will immediately transmit said information to Security Associates at the earliest possible opportunity, when the orbits of Earth and Mars allow the resumption of direct radio contact. Again, your primary objective will be to gather information…’
He slotted the loaded cartridge back into the gun’s handle, then reached for the spare cartridge and began to load it as well. ‘However, since you will be facing armed and possibly dangerous adversaries, and because you will be operating beyond range of feasible radio contact, you are also cleared to use lethal force, with extreme prejudice, to assure your own survival…’
Startled, Nash glanced up at the screen; this had not been part of the initial mission briefing late last year in Washington.
‘Be advised that, if this option becomes necessary within the parameters of your assignment, the company’s legal consul states that you are authorized to act upon it, according to his interpretation of the seventh protocol of the United Nations Protocols for the Sending of Communications to Extraterrestrial Intelligence…’
‘Seventh protocol?’ he whispered.’ What the hell are you…?’
The narrative continued, unheeding of his bewilderment. ‘Your contact on Mars is Samuel Leahy, the Skycorp general manager of Arsia Station. Leahy will make any necessary introductions to Arsia Station staff members and give you further updates on your assignment, if any need to be provided. We anticipate your first report no earlier than twelve-hundred hours and no later than twenty-four hundred hours, Greenwich time, on November 11, 2032. Good luck, Mr Donaldson.’
With no closing other than that, the message was concluded. The screen went blank; already a self-contained virus program was destroying everything on the diskette. Nash ejected the diskette, grasped it between his fists and snapped it in half before shoving the remains down the disposal vent.
Extreme prejudice…
He knew what that meant. He could snuff somebody if they were trying to snuff him first. No problem with that.
The seventh protocol…
No goddamned idea.
L’Enfant…
He knew all about Terrible Terry L’Enfant.
Nash picked up the gun and studied it. Control had sent him up here on what had seemed to be a clearly defined mission; now that he was here, out of radio contact and completely on his own, the rules of the game had been changed on him. He had been given a gun, all right, but no one had bothered to ask him whether he cared to kill L’Enfant.
Or, if he did, whether he had the nerve to pull the trigger.
‘Halprin,’ he whispered, ‘you old fucking bastard…’
10. The Mars Hotel
‘LAUNCH MINUS NINE…eight…seven…’
‘Final engine check nominal. We’re hot. Separation at mark zero.’
‘Copy. Launch minus five…four…three…’
‘Umbilical detached.’
‘Copy that…one…’
‘Mark zero and separation.’ Lew Belotti’s right hand, resting on the bar above his head, yanked it down. There was an abrupt jar as the Sagan was released from its cradle beneath the Lowell’s second arm. Green lights flashed across the wraparound console of the cockpit. ‘We’ve got separation,’ he said as he returned both hands to the control yoke. ‘Firing RCRs in five seconds on my mark. Five…four…three…two…one…mark for RCR ignition.’
There was a slight sensation of motion as the flight computer automatically ignited the RCRs along the lander’s biconic fuselage, pushing it away from the cycleship. From his couch in the midsection of the lander’s crew compartment, Nash watched as the long trusswork of Arm Two briefly swam past the cockpit windows: the gold Mylar-wrapped habitation cylinders, the OMS engines, the oxygen/nitrogen tanks and the wide hexagon of the communications antenna and, finally, the long, black ripple of the heat radiator. Then, suddenly, the Lowell was gone, spinning away on its own lonesome orbit as the massive red orb of Mars drifted into view through the windows.
‘Nice show, Lew.’ Massey was leisurely watching his first officer from the right-hand co-pilot seat. He glanced at the readout on one of his computer screens. ‘Four minutes to initiating primary descent sequence, on your mark.’
‘PDS in four minutes, Cap’n.’ Lew bent forward against his straps and began tapping the next set of instructions into the computer’s keyboard. Nash could hear the absent-minded snap of his chewing gum between his jaws as he worked. His checklist, loosened from its magnetic clip by the separation and unfettered by the loss of gravity, floated upward from the dashboard; without missing a beat, Lew snagged it out of midair and shoved it back onto the console below the window. He glanced over his shoulder at the six passengers seated behind him. ‘Everybody okay back there?’
Nash nodded and gave him a
quick thumbs-up; in the couch next to him, Miho Sasaki appeared to be completely unruffled. The medical officer, Jodi Ferrigno, seemed to be taking a nap. The same couldn’t be said about the other passengers in the rear, the three scientists bound for Arsia Station for their two-year research tours. Nash heard a couple of uncomfortable burps; the sudden transition to zero-gee was unsettling, and Nash had little doubt that at least one of them would throw up during aerobraking.
Belotti’s interest, though, was polite at best. He had already turned his attention back to his controls. ‘Arsia Control, this is Sagan MEM-L012,’ he murmured into his headset mike. ‘Do you copy?’ A pause. ‘Roger that, Arsia, we are on standby for de-orbit burn. All systems are copacetic. Awaiting weather nowcast and instructions for primary descent, over.’
Nash looked over at Sasaki again. The young woman was perfectly relaxed, her hands folded together in her lap as she gazed at the starscape through the windows. He long black hair was braided and caught in a tight bun behind her neck, but a few loose strands floated around the side of her face. ‘This must be familiar to you by now,’ he said.
Sasaki shrugged indifferently. ‘I thought it might be more exciting,’ she admitted, ‘but I suppose when it’s the second time…three times if you count aerobraking in Earth’s atmosphere…’ She smiled a little and looked forward again. ‘It just feels like another trip.’
‘Hmm.’ For some reason, Nash felt much the same way, despite the fact that this was his first trip. For him, leaving the security of the Lowell and beginning the descent to Mars was only the first phase of his assignment. It wasn’t so much a climax as it was a preface. Cydonia Base was his real objective, and getting there was only part of the job.
‘Looking forward to getting back to Cydonia?’ he asked.