Saturn Run

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Saturn Run Page 30

by Stanley Salmons


  “Well I’m glad the Board didn’t take it out on you.”

  “On the contrary. I was called in by the Chairman. He was big enough to say I’d been a better judge of character than he had. With Stott gone they needed someone to give them expert advice on technical aspects of the missions. He asked me if I’d take it on. I said yes.”

  “You’re changing jobs?”

  Hal shook his head. “No, he didn’t want to lose me from my present job, but I’ll sit in on Board meetings. I’m being paid as a consultant in addition to my normal salary. So you could say I’ve come out of it rather well. Quite apart from the money it’s good to know what’s going on in the company. I feel really plugged in for a change.”

  “Well, that’s great. At least you’ll be able to advise them properly, unlike your predecessor.”

  There was a moment’s silence. Then Hal said:

  “Did you hear his illustrious father resigned from the Board of Space Fleet?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “This sort of thing rubs off. Everyone knew how much he’d pushed his son forward. There were whisperings. When that happens the only thing is to get out. He was past retirement age anyway. I think he resigned all his Directorships. He’s only staying on the Board of Space Fleet Academy.”

  “Pity to have to end his career like that. I mean, in a sense it wasn’t his fault, but people won’t want to listen to him now. I expect he blames me for his son’s fall from grace – and his own, for that matter.”

  “I’m damned sure he does.” He engaged Dan’s eyes. “Watch out for him, Dan. The old man’s still got influence. You’ve made yourself a powerful enemy there.”

  Dan gave him a rueful smile. “It seems to be a habit with me.”

  “Something else that’ll interest you. They’ve passed all the information about the pirate attack to Customs.”

  “You know, that’s been bothering me. Why the hell didn’t they do it before? I transmitted the coordinates of the pirate attack straight after it happened.”

  “It was your old friend Stott again. He persuaded the other Directors that he should be the one to monitor the mission. That wasn’t hard to do: it looked to them like a graduate of the Academy should be up to it. Then he went into Mission Ops and told the Flight Director that all communications from Solar Wind were to be passed to him and to him alone. When your message came in he said he’d take charge of it. Of course the Flight Director never imagined he would just sit on it. The message is still on the Mission datafile, by the way. No one has the authority to erase those.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter any more. It just seems a shame. They had another two years’ production of that shit because of him. Will Customs act now?”

  “Oh yeah, for sure.” He leaned forward. “This is confidential, okay? Space Fleet, SpaceFreight, and the Agency are putting a lot of pressure on Customs to track down the factory. Now that the full story is out on what happened to you, our clients aren’t being so hard-nosed about the shortages. What they really want is a regular supply run out there, and we’re the only outfit with the fleet and the experience to do it. It’s a really big contract for the company. Everyone’s agreed the ships have got to be armed, too.”

  Dan frowned. “What about the International Convention?”

  “The Board and the Agency are applying for exemption status on all E-class flights. They ought to get it. Even so, the company doesn’t want to fly beyond Mars orbit while there’s a known threat out there – that’s why they’re leaning hard on Customs to clean it up. And I’m sure they will: it would be a terrific coup for them if they got the factory.”

  “It won’t be in the same place, of course – Rostov’s people will have moved it by now.” He grinned. “Boy, I’d like to see the fireworks when they do find it.”

  “I don’t need a ringside seat,” Hal said, “I’ll be happy to watch a newsclip. Anyway, once that’s sorted the idea is to do a run every four months, so there’ll be a bunch of ships out there at any one time, all at different stages of the journey. Overlapping missions,” Hal put the heel of his hand between his eyes. “My head aches just to think about it. We’ll need more freighters and more pilots, especially more pilots. After what happened to you they want to send them out in crews of three.”

  “I thought that would happen. But how on earth are they going to recruit numbers like that?”

  “Are you kidding? We haven’t even advertised yet and the applications have been rolling in. Everyone wants to be a hero like you. The first team will start training in a couple of weeks. See what you’ve started?”

  Dan shook his head. “You’re not trying to manage all this on your own, are you?”

  “No, they’ll be getting me a lot more staff. At last.” Hal smiled. “It’s worked out well for you too, hasn’t it, Dan? It’s ironic. I mean, I know the court martial was a hell of an ordeal, but your reputation’s much stronger now than if you’d simply returned from Saturn without any fuss.”

  “I guess that’s true. Well, if it is I’ve got a lot of people to thank for it, yourself included. That’s why I came round really. To thank you.”

  “Forget it. By the way, I hear you’re leaving the company.”

  “That’s right. But whatever happens we’ll stay in touch. Okay?”

  “You bet.”

  As he left the Mission Overview Office for the very last time Dan felt a curious pang of regret. He looked back over his shoulder to see Hal still standing in the open doorway. Hal raised a hand in farewell and called after him:

  “Good luck, Dan. Don’t forget, now: watch your back!”

  *

  “Karl! What on earth’s the matter?”

  Stott sat down heavily.

  “You have no idea what a terrible time I’ve had this last week, Papillon.”

  “You poor darling! You want to tell me about it?”

  “No, I can’t. You couldn’t imagine it anyway, the way people have treated me.”

  “Dear me, Karl, you’re in a terrible state! What can we do for you? How can we make you feel better? Shall I make love to you?”

  “No. I mean, yes. But have you got something to… er, calm my nerves first?”

  She smiled knowingly at him, dipped into a pocket of her peignoir, and brought out a small plastic packet containing a fine white powder.

  “You mean something like this?” she said, jiggling it up and down.

  “Oh yes, yes. Let’s have it now.”

  He reached for it, but she held it away from him.

  “Baby, I don’t know if it’ll be enough. You’re really down – I think you could do with a stronger hit. What do you say?”

  “Yes, yes, anything.”

  “All right.” She crossed the room and came back fitting a needle to a syringe. “You’re going to love this, Karl baby. Come on, Papillon will show you how.”

  *

  “You asked to see me, Dr Trebus?”

  Dan had time for Trebus; he was the one who’d been straight with him about the mission, where he was going and why. The last time he’d seen the man was in the courtroom at the end of the case, talking to the other directors. He’d looked angry then. He looked more relaxed now, sitting behind his desk.

  “Yes, Dan.” He indicated a seat. “I heard you’d tendered your resignation from SpaceFreight.”

  Dan took the chair in front of the desk. “That’s right. I didn’t feel I could stay with the company, in spite of the way things came out.”

  “I can understand that. Do you have anything lined up?”

  “Not yet, but there’s time. I don’t leave till the end of the month.”

  “I may be able to put something your way. Are you interested?”

  “Go on.”

  “SpaceFreight and Space Fleet may be separate entities these days, but they still maintain a close working relationship. That’s made easier by a cross-appointment: one of the directors serves on the Boards of both companies. At the moment that
person is me. And I happen to know that the Space Fleet Test Establishment is looking for a pilot – a pilot of your calibre. Rank of Major.”

  Dan’s heart missed a beat. Test Pilot for Space Fleet? It was the pinnacle of the profession! And not just because of the high salary: the sheer variety and scientific challenge of the work meant that any vacancy was hugely oversubscribed. Usually only top graduates from Space Fleet Academy with years of experience ever made it through selection. All the same he needed to be careful how he responded.

  “Are you saying you’re in a position to offer me the job?”

  “Officially, no – you’d have to go through the formal appointment process. Unofficially…” Trebus shrugged and smiled. “It’s not unknown for these positions to be offered to distinguished former employees of one or the other company.”

  Dan nodded. A few years ago he wouldn’t have hesitated, but his instincts told him he was in a strong position. Trebus wouldn’t be acting alone. Possibly the Directors wanted to make amends for the way he’d been treated and they were evidently keen to keep him within the organization. He might be able to push it a bit.

  “It’s a very attractive opportunity, no question about it. The thing is, I was really hoping for an Earth-based job right now. Zero gravity takes a lot out of you physically, and this last trip more than most. Of course it would be different if I could be assigned to atmospherics and stratospherics, say, for the first year. Any chance of that?”

  Trebus smiled and inclined his head. “I’m sure they’d be willing to negotiate something along those lines.” He stood and Dan followed suit. “Good, that’s settled then.”

  Dan took the extended hand.

  *

  Neraya’s eyes opened wide. “Test Pilot for Space Fleet? Really?”

  “Well, it’s not confirmed yet, but Trebus gave me the impression it was pretty much a done deal.”

  She threw her arms around him. “Oh, Danny, how wonderful! It’s the perfect job for you! It just couldn’t be better.” Then she stepped back, holding him at arms’ length, and her expression clouded. “You heard what happened to Stott and his father?”

  “Yes.”

  “Take care, Danny. They hate you, and people like that don’t give up easily.”

  “I’ll be careful, don’t worry.”

  First Conor, then Hal, now Neraya. Well, one thing’s for sure.

  I can’t say nobody warned me.

  Acknowledgements

  I was walking in Canons Park, Birmingham, UK with my wife, Paula, when I outlined briefly an idea I’d had for a new story. ‘You’ve got enough,’ she said, ‘write it.’ I did, and the end result was The Planetary Trilogy, of which Saturn Run is the first book.

  As always I’m grateful to Paula and our children, Graham, Daniel, and Debby, for their encouragement and feedback. Graham, in particular, gave me invaluable help with the Steelpoint flight that so discomforted Braggazzi and his companions. My thanks also go to fellow members of the Liverpool-based Rose Lane Writers’ Group (now Wordsmiths), particularly Kate Jack, John and Rachel Sayle, and Matthew Taylor, for their helpful comments on an earlier version of the manuscript.

 

 

 


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