by R S Penney
Anna wasn't sure how she felt about that.
She wanted to believe her people were doing more good than harm, but Jena had a point. Still, if naivety was the price of living in a society that actually gave a damn about the lives of its citizens, she would gladly pay it.
She just hoped such naivety would lead to their downfall.
Chapter 8
Several rows of seats filled with several dozen people blocked Anna's view of a large window that looked out on a city street. The bright lights of this television studio felt so very warn, and every time the camera swung her way, she had to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. Keepers were never meant to experience this level of media attention.
Samantha Hughes, an older woman who wore a purple suit and kept her silver hair cut short, stared into the screen of her tablet. “So, Agent Lenai,” she said, turning to face Anna. “Bank robbers might be among the most dangerous criminals. How exactly do you make them stand down?”
Anna sat in a large, comfortable chair, dressed in a pair of black pants and a light blue top with a round neckline. Her red hair was tied back with several strands falling over one cheek. In truth, she hadn't wanted to do this interview, but Larani had insisted. Apparently the Keepers needed positive media attention. Oddly, she found herself feeling very cognizant of her appearance. Normally clothes and hairstyles were something she experimented with for fun, but scrutiny was not something she had grown used to.
Anna went red, then bowed her head to the other woman. She brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “Well, I start by flashing my cutest smile,” she joked. “If that doesn't overwhelm them, I guess we can resort to punching.”
The audience laughed.
Hughes lowered the tablet to study her with lips pursed, one gray eyebrow arched to reveal her skepticism. “But such violent altercations can have serious consequences,” she said. “Are there no better options? Ways of preventing such crimes?”
Anna shut her eyes, breathing deeply to calm herself. “There might be,” she said. “You should consider the fact that any monetary system where currency is deposited at a central location is susceptible to this kind of problem.”
“So you suggest the use of digital currency?”
The response was there in Anna's mind, but she found herself hesitating. If phrased poorly, the words might sound like the arrogant preaching Leyrians were so often accused of. Seth offered comforting emotions.
Setting her elbow on the arm of her chair, Anna rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “Perhaps no currency whatsoever,” she said, eyebrows rising. “Your people have been capable of creating material abundance for quite some time now.”
That seemed to have an effect.
A hush fell over the room as members of the audience exchanged glances with one another. The nervous fluttering in her belly grew worse as she began to contemplate what their response might be.
Hughes sat back in her chair, tapping her lips with one finger. “A very interesting suggestion,” she said, scanning the audience. “But surely the existence of Justice Keepers implies that crime is still a problem on your world.”
“It is,” Anna admitted. “Crime is not solely motivated by material gain. However, creating such abundance will decrease the crime rate, and even if it didn't, problems like poverty and disease should be solved on principle.”
Most of the audience clapped.
Not at all preachy, in her estimation. She was actually feeling quite pleased with herself. So far, she had managed to handle the most difficult questions with poise. In the months after she left for Alios, Jack had been forced to sit through quite a few of these interviews; she remembered listening to the stories whenever he called.
Hughes brought out another guest a few minutes later, a man who analyzed crime statistics with the RCMP, and the conversation shifted in that direction. Anna was more than content to let him do most of the talking. She knew very little on the subject of Earth crime rates.
When it was over, she found Larani Tal waiting by the edge of the set with a smile on her face. “You did very well,” the woman said. “Interviews like this will make the Earthers more willing to work with us.”
Grinning sheepishly, Anna lowered her eyes to the floor. “I'm no media guru,” she said, shaking her head. “All I did was tell the truth. I was more than a little convinced the audience would start booing me.”
They started down a long hallway that led to the studio's back exit, a hallway filled with men and women who shuffled about with their heads down, some flipping through pages of notes, others speaking into headsets. It still felt strange to her to witness paper in everyday use. Books with actual paper pages were still in print on her world, but almost all daily communication was handled through multi-tools.
Larani paced down the hallway with her head held high, squinting into the distance. “Nonsense,” she insisted. “Your responses were superb. Not that I would require this of you on a regular basis, but this will make a difference.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Anna blinked at the other woman. “Are you sure?” She heaved out a sigh, shoulders slumping. “I get the impression that most people have made up their minds about us.”
“And you believe they think ill of us?”
Anna crossed her arms as she blew out a deep breath, huddling in on herself. “Well, some do,” she answered. “And others think we're the Companion's Blessed Choir in the flesh. But either way, they're not changing.”
“Perhaps.”
That was a somewhat ambiguous answer, but Anna had no inclination to pursue the topic any further. She had done what was asked of her; she had sat in front of the camera and given her answers. Now, she could get back to work.
Those conversations with Jack in which she had listened to his woes in dealing with the media had often been packed with incredulity that she had not had similar problems after returning home. After all, she was the first Leyrian to discover Earth. Well… in truth, that honour went to Denario Tarse, but they were hardly going to give a dead smuggler the credit. But no, there hadn't been much fanfare.
There had been interviews, of course, and various news agencies who wanted to ask about her experience. But it was a little different on Leyria. The atmosphere wasn't quite so intense, and she didn't have to worry that a single slip of the tongue might result in an ongoing scandal. Leyrians just weren't as inclined to question authority. Though, in light of the last few months, she was beginning to wonder if that was a good thing.
Anna sighed despite her best efforts to avoid it. Back on Alios, she had been so eager to see Earth again, but now she had to admit that it wasn't quite what she recalled. Three years ago, everything had seemed so simple. She was on the side of righteousness; Pennfield was a villain. Now everything seemed much more gray.
She wasn't sure how to handle that.
The Flight Control Room was one of the few places on Station One with an open view of the stars. A large dome-shaped window stretched over control consoles that were arranged in a circle, and through it, Jack could see the central shuttle bay and the spokes that connected it to the rest of the station.
He strode into the room in gray pants and a black sweater with the buttons near the collar left open. His hair was an absolute mess, chaotic bangs crisscrossing over his brow. “Coran Norel?” he called out.
An older man sat with his back turned inside the ring of computer stations. He got up at the sound of his name and turned around to face Jack. “That's me,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
Short and stocky, this man wore black pants and a green shirt cut in Leyrian style with a collar that went almost to his chin. His round face and bald head were flushed, and the lenses of his glasses reflected the light. “Wait, I know you,” he went on. “You're that guy who bonded the captured symbiont.”
Jack felt his lips curl into a small smile, then bowed his head to the other man. “Uh huh. That's me,” he said with a nod. “Agent Jack Hunter. I was hoping I
could ask you a few questions about flight control.”
Norel folded his arms and studied Jack with an uneasy expression, no doubt fearful of what might bring a Keeper up here. “Sure,” he answered. “I'd be happy to help. What would you like to know?”
Breaking the ice would be a good idea. He could just demand to know how many ships have flown past Jupiter in the last few years, but making that kind of inquiry might just convince Coran here to report his visit. Best to gain the information through a little casual conversation.
Chewing on his lip, Jack squinted down at the floor. “Nothing too fancy.” he said, shaking his head. “I was just trying to satisfy my curiosity. How many of you work on the flight control team?”
Norel mopped a hand over his face, running his palm over the surface of his bald head. “Just a few of us,” he said. “Most of the job is automated. I worked a few years in Orbital Traffic Control back home, but then this job came up.”
“And you jumped at it?”
The man replied with a warm smile, his face turning several shades of crimson. “I've always had a fascination with ships,” he said. “I like to feel like I'm part of the action.”
Jack stepped forward with hands clasped behind himself, shrugging his shoulders to appear nonchalant. “Just how much traffic passes through the Sol System?” he inquired. “I'm guessing you get quite a bit.”
“Not as much as you would get back home,” Norel answered. “Leyria is a major hub of activity, whereas Earth is more of a far-flung outpost. Most of the traffic is just the odd Keeper flying a shuttle back home or a ship coming in to resupply.”
As he stared through the dome-shaped window, Jack took a moment to visualize it. Ships zipping back and forth through the system, each one nestled safely inside a warp bubble. He had never really taken the time to see the marvels of his own little corner of the universe; most of his duties took place on Earth. Perhaps it was time to change that. In fact, his being something of a “country bumpkin” in the eyes of most Leyrians might just work to his advantage. “Still,” he murmured. “How many ships come through here every day? A dozen? Two dozen?”
“More like four or five.”
“How do they avoid each other?”
“Sir?”
“All those starships,” Jack said, deep creases forming in his brow. “With all that activity, they must run the risk of flying into one another.”
Coran Norel shook his head at the foolishness of the Earth-born primitive. “Space is vast, Agent Hunter,” he said. “Trust me, there's plenty of room for everyone.”
“Still…How do they do it?”
The other man sank back into his chair and swiveled around to face his console, heaving out a frustrated sigh. “They don't all take the same path out of the solar system,” he said. “They follow multiple vectors.”
“Show me what that looks like.”
With a grunt, Norel complied with the request, chubby fingers dancing over the touch screen interface as he enlarged windows and tapped his way through menu after menu. Jack could almost hear him grumbling, and he was surprised to find emotions that were not his own in the back of his mind. Apparently Summer found this whole thing quite hilarious.
When he paused to consider his actions, Jack realized that he should probably feel guilty. In all likelihood, the only reason that Norel was willing to cooperate was the man's desire for attention. Any form of attention. Cooped up here with nothing to do but plot out the movement of starships? Who wouldn't be desperate for a little social interaction. A long time ago, Jack had figured out that there were people who were quite happy to do jobs that would drive him out of his mind with boredom, and that seemed equally true in an economy without money; the odds were good that Coran Norel chose this career because he genuinely enjoyed it. Nevertheless, everyone wanted a little recognition for all their hard work. It was just the way of things.
A hologram appeared, depicting the solar system encircled by a bright green ring and each planet following an elliptical path around the sun. Lines began to extend from the third ellipse – the one that represented Earth's orbit – following a straight path all the way to the leftmost edge of the circle. Toward Leyrian Space. Though each one was a different colour, there were so many that they began to overlap so that it was impossible to distinguish the path of one ship from that of another. In reality, they'd be separated by millions of kilometers, but on this scale, they all seemed to be flying through the one small section of space. Every ship that had ever flown in and out of the Sol System in the last three years.
He began to notice lines extending from Earth to the right side of the circle while others sped toward the top and bottom. Those would be explorer ships reconnoitering the local territory. It was good to know what threats might be lurking nearby. Earth's solar system was, after all, a bastion of safety in a region of space littered with Overseer traps. Some lines extended from Earth inward toward Mercury or Venus. Others stopped at the ellipse that marked Mars's orbit, or that of Saturn or Neptune. Explorer ships again. The Leyrians had been partnering with Earth's space agencies to study the nearby planets. Not one ship stopped near Jupiter. Not one.
“That's odd,” Jack said.
“Sir?”
Pinching his chin with thumb and forefinger, Jack narrowed his eyes. “The flight paths,” he muttered under his breath. “No one visited Jupiter. You would think the largest world in the system would draw some attention.”
“That is odd,” Norel muttered, leaning over his console so he could tap away at the screen. It seemed Jack had managed to pique the other man's curiosity. “Confirmed. My people have visited every planet in this system except the fifth.”
“Has anyone ever flown near Jupiter?”
The hologram changed when Norel altered the search parameters, each flight-path vanishing until only two remained. Both passed through the ellipse that marked Jupiter's orbit before proceeding to the outer system. “Twice in the last three years,” Norel began, “a shuttle has flown within five lightseconds of Jupiter.”
“A shuttle?”
“Yes,” Norel confirmed. “One of the Class-3 assault shuttles frequently piloted by Keepers on long-range missions. According to our records…Hmm. Now that is truly odd. Each time, the shuttle dropped out of warp for precisely 31.4 seconds before resuming its course toward the outer system.”
“What could cause that?”
Coran Norel offered a half-hearted shrug in response. “Normally, I'd say they got too close to the planet.” He leaned back in his chair with fingers laced over the back of his skull, heaving out a sigh. “The intense gravity field disrupted their warp drive. But it doesn't seem likely that it would be the exact same duration each time.”
Jack was forced to agree. Coincidences like that were so rare that if these were two random, unrelated incidents, he would be unwilling to go outside for fear of being struck by lightning. No. There had to be a pattern here. He just had to figure out what it was. So what would make a shuttle drop out of warp for roughly half a minute?
“Ah, here we are!” Norel exclaimed. “On each trip, the shuttle launched a survey probe which it then retrieved on its way back from the outer system. This would explain the brief interruption in the shuttle's journey.”
Jack wasn't buying it.
A probe would explain a lot; the shuttle dropping out of warp would now appear purposeful and deliberate, and what's more, it would explain why there had never been a manned mission to Jupiter. He could see the pieces falling into place. Jupiter had intense gravity and powerful electromagnetic fields. If a ship got too close, it would be unable to form a warp field. Why take the risk when you could send a probe instead? Everything seemed to be wrapped up with a neat little bow, but Jack didn't believe it.
So the Leyrians had sent not one but two probes to scan Jupiter, and neither one had picked up any trace of a base on Ganymede? Granted, there was a lot of ground to cover, and it was possible that neither probe had passed anywhere
near the any of the Galilean Moons. But it was all just a little too convenient.
“Coran?” Jack said softly. “Who was piloting those shuttles?”
The man slid his hands over his console, flinging one application window aside so he could bring up another. “The log says…Hmm…” Norel slid his chair back, whirling around to face Jack. “I guess the guy doesn't mind getting his hands dirty. Both of those shuttles were piloted by Grecken Slade.”
Jack heaved out a deep breath.
Grecken Slade.
As she pulled open the glass-paneled door, Anna found herself inside a small coffee shop where Chinese lanterns dangled from the ceiling. A register behind a small counter was operated by a young woman with long red hair and freckles on her cheeks.
Off to her left, a dozen small tables were occupied by people of all ages who faced each other on either side of a chessboard. She had learned of this activity from a flier on a lamppost, and she intended to win a few matches.
Anna stepped forward in blue jeans and a long, black coat, her eyes downcast. Not exactly what I pictured, she thought to herself. None of these people look like they play competitively. Maybe I should take it easy on them.
The young woman behind the counter looked up with a bright smile, gesturing to Anna. “Are you here for the chess club?” she inquired. “Cover's ten bucks. Hot chocolate is free, but you have to pay for other drinks.”
Grinning impishly, Anna closed her eyes and nodded to the woman. “Indeed I am,” she said, fishing out a ten dollar bill. “I figure I could use a night out, and frankly, sitting at a bar and fending off horny dude-bros wasn't appealing.”
“I hear you.”
It still gave her pause when she realized that she was picking up Earther slang. She didn't think it would come so easily after just three short months, but then, she supposed she would have to count the time spent here on her visit. And keeping in touch with Jack had almost certainly had an effect.
Anna strode across the room with hands shoved into her pockets, turning her head to survey the competition. Oh yeah. I'm definitely going to have to go easy on them, she thought. Most of these folks are not competitive.