This was not a role he had ever imagined would suit him. Marcel had a passion for power and speed. Born in Grenoble, in south-eastern France, he had been a wild youth; a mountaineer, sky-diver, maniacal skier, and then an avid racing driver. His parents, despairing that he would ever do anything productive, had promised him his own racing team if he would just go to university and get some kind of degree. He chose Propulsion Engineering and fell deeply in love with rocketry. He took a year off to go to China and do clerical work just so that he could witness the testing of the huge spaceship motors that were being developed there. When he returned he announced that he was done with ‘Earthbound pastimes’ and would be going into space with the ISEA. He was, however, first required to spend two years in the design section, where he astonished his supervisors with his ability to conceive, articulate and implement remarkable engineering innovations. He would come up with the most bizarre ideas, talk right through all the instinctive objections, and then shrug his shoulders: “You see, it’s simple.” And it would be. He was immensely popular with the crew of Prometheus because he was utterly without pretensions and would wade in to help anybody with a problem to solve. At no time in his early career had he ever imagined how much satisfaction he would get from fostering the creativity of others and facilitating their success. Now he wondered how he could possibly have been so lucky as to be in a position to guide the very first human civilisation on another planet.
As time progressed, more and more of the pioneers felt that they would like to be on the list of those asked if they wanted to stay, even if they were not yet sure about it. The long, tedious and dangerous journey back to Earth, where the quality of life was steadily deteriorating, appeared less and less attractive, and how could they assume that they might be given the opportunity to return at some future date? As they travelled further afield towards the mountains and lakes to the east, the space and the scope of opportunity on Ceres appeared open-ended, the threats and discomforts manageable. Friendship and camaraderie flourished, and love affairs began.
* * *
Cobus Vermeulen was awakened by a beeping from his phone and knew immediately that it meant trouble. He switched on the personal communications system in his room and then connected into the automatic tracking system.
There it was.
A black dot was moving steadily away from gas giant 16-5 towards planet 16-4. And it was moving fast: very, very fast; possibly as fast as one twentieth of light speed. He requested an ETA from the system assuming that it would make a slingshot manoeuvre around planet 16-4 and got the answer 52.4 hours. He called Arlette on his earphone.
“Dark Shadow is on the move,” he told her. “It could be here in just over two days.”
“OK. Get up here in thirty minutes. We’ll want to access all the relevant data you have.”
The meeting was short and tense.
“Of course it’s entirely possible that it’s just going to investigate 16-4,” Arlette was saying, “but we must assume it can see us just as well as we can see it, and that it is coming here. Henri, notify the crew that we are now on yellow alert. Cobus, how long will it be before we know whether it’s coming here or not?”
“Thirty-six hours,” he said.
“OK. Henri, I want a reception plan and a combat plan. Assume we’ll be using Lander 1 as a lifeboat. By the way, Julia, how’s Genes?”
“Making an extraordinary recovery. He’s up and about in his room but still claims he remembers nothing since his space ranger days.”
“Do you believe him?”
“No. We gave him the video of his assault on the defence platform and a recording of his negotiations with me, and watched him playing them. Neither Hannah nor I believe he’s genuinely amnesic.”
“Alright. Have him brought up here. I want to talk to him one-on-one. Thank you!”
The meeting ended.
Genes Clayton was delivered in chains to Arlette’s quarters by two armed guards. The top and sides of his head were heavily bandaged, but the only mark on his face was a black eye. The guards manacled his legs to the legs of her desk, and stood behind him, their fingers on the triggers of their weapons. “Wait outside, you two,” she said. “I’ll press my panic button if I need help.”
The two guards looked at each other, shrugged, and left.
Arlette sat half on the desk and looked at him hard in the eyes for fifteen seconds, then she climbed down, sat in her chair, and continued to stare unblinkingly at him. Finally she said, “What turned you into a mass murderer, Genes?”
“Ah’m not…” he began.
“Don’t bullshit me!” shouted Arlette before he could say any more. “Shall I show you the video or play the transcript again?”
He looked at her steadily and said nothing.
Arlette leant over her desk and engaged his eyes with hers. “Listen very carefully,” she said. “You came very close to losing your life. If I decide that you continue to pose a threat to this mission I’ll have you snuffed out like that!” She snapped her fingers. “However, if I decide that you could still make a useful contribution, I might be lenient, at least for a while.”
Genes looked at her. He showed no emotion, but Arlette hardly expected anything else given the skilful deception he had practised before.
“But let me be absolutely clear,” she went on. “You will tell me now the complete and unadulterated truth about the conspiracy you have been involved in, or I will send you back to your cell and keep you in isolation indefinitely.”
She sat back and folded her arms.
“What kind of useful contribution can I make?” asked Genes.
“You are an intelligent, resourceful and creative man with a lot of practical experience. I’ve lost a lot of people and I can use those skills. I’m not saying that I will trust you or forgive you, I’m just saying that I might give you back part of your life if you are prepared to do everything I ask of you.”
Genes swallowed. “Deal,” he said hoarsely.
“Right,” said Arlette. “You will start by recording a complete confession, beginning with your first involvement with organised crime. You will explain how the plot to take over the ship was planned and executed and you will name all names. You will reveal your hiding places on Prometheus and yield all materials to the security forces on board. When you have finished your confession I will review it and decide whether it is sufficiently full and complete. Once I am fully satisfied, I will commit the confession to the archives. I will not release any details to anyone on this mission other than to my closest advisors. I will, however, release some information to Mission Control if I think it is relevant to the security of the mission.”
Arlette paused. “Were you really going to kill me?”
Genes looked at her sadly. “Yes,” he said quietly.
“Do you still want to kill me?”
“No,” he said, almost choking.
“Good. I’m going to the control centre now. There’s a phone, get on with it.” Arlette rose to leave. As she was in the doorway she said to the guards, “Leave him to work and let me know when he’s finished.”
Genes poked the phone on the desk before him into life and began to speak into it.
“I guess I have to go back to the beginning and put all this in context. My father died when I was fourteen. He was a property manager, a bailiff, on the Chicago East Side and apparently he lost his life in a shoot-out with some tenants. I was already quite tall by then, and was known around there because I had won a few maths competitions. We had a visit, my mother and I, from my father’s employer. This guy said he knew we had no insurance and he wanted to help us. He said we could live in one of the firm’s apartments in Houston and keep an eye on the other tenants, and the firm would pay for my schooling. My mother agreed – she really wanted me to go to college – and we moved down there. It was fine – I went to college and only then did I realise that it was the Mafia that was looking after us. I was becoming very disillusioned by tha
t time with the failure of government to deal effectively with political and social problems, and it seemed to me that these people had a better idea about how society should be run.”
Genes went on to describe how he was approached when he had been selected for the Prometheus mission, and promised total authority over the new planetary territories to implement a closely controlled meritocracy. He knew his mother, now suffering from dementia, would be well looked after and he was convinced that his views, working closely with his benefactors on Earth, would ultimately prevail over weakness, compromise and corruption. He had stuck to his commitment, partly from conviction and partly from concern over the fate of his mother, but he had observed that a certain nobility of purpose had begun to form on Prometheus, to which he felt strongly attracted. “I am now willing”, he declared, “to commit myself to this cause.”
29
Dark Shadow
Hannah was invited to sit in with Henri, Julia and Arlette as they listened to Genes’ confession. He said he felt that benevolent dictatorship would be far more effective than democracy in the early stages of political development on the planet and that he could be a successful leader in this context. He named Joe Favaloro, Chan Lu Fat and Chang Chao as co-conspirators, together with the operatives who had helped him set up his secret quarters on Prometheus as its construction was nearing completion. He described the properties of the virus he had been given to infect those on board with a genetic disposition to pathological violence, and the initiation process he had been trained to deliver to those infected. He expressed remorse for the terrible assault in the control centre that had cost many valuable lives and for his kidnapping of the Commander and Henri Bertin. However, he claimed that he had intended to take over the ship without bloodshed on the second attempt, and that he had been deeply shocked by the slaughter of almost all of his soldiers before they had harmed anyone. Finally he acknowledged that his motivations were lust for power and greed and that he could now see that the little colony on Ceres was developing in a wholly healthy, democratic fashion which he fully supported.
“What do you think?” asked Arlette when it was finished.
“The more the charm, the bigger the bastard,” said Julia emphatically.
“Oh, Julia, is that your professional opinion or your personal experience?” tittered Hannah.
“Both!” said Julia.
Only Henri wasn’t laughing. “He’s a showman and an opportunist”, he said, “and not to be trusted.”
“I don’t propose to trust him, Henri, but I do propose to use him. Ever since we lost Jake Thibault I’ve been uncomfortable that we don’t have a motor man in the control centre who has an instinctive touch with the propulsion units. Genes knows it better than anyone and he’ll be constantly under everyone’s scrutiny there. If we are going to tangle with an alien spaceship, I want nothing but the very best in that job.”
“Is he really that good?” queried Henri. “Aren’t there younger people we can bring on?”
“Not in the face of a real and present danger from Dark Shadow,” said Arlette. “His former henchmen are all dead or incarcerated, his base is blown, and he has no weapons or explosives or other equipment. I hope that’s a manageable security risk.”
“Yes,” said Henri finally. “If you need him we will make it so.”
Genes was back in Arlette’s quarters an hour later.
“In your confession,” Arlette was saying, “you have admitted your guilt for a host of crimes, including murder and treason. There is no immediate need for a court martial, since there is no dispute about these crimes or your culpability, and our psychiatric staff have pronounced you sane. However, given the circumstances, sentencing will be suspended at my discretion. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” said Genes.
“Do you want legal advice?”
“Er … no,” said Genes.
“No?”
“No!” said Genes emphatically.
“Your future behaviour may, at my discretion, have some bearing on your sentence. You are now under house arrest, which means that you are restricted to your quarters and, when required, to the control centre. We will monitor all your activities and communications at all times. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” said Genes.
“You will be allowed in the control centre to perform the role of propulsion engineer, and that role only.”
Genes’ eyes widened slightly.
“In that role you will obey my commands in full and without question, and you will execute your delegated tasks in the interests of the safety of the ship to the best of your ability. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Commander, crystal clear,” said Genes, a little touch of his swagger returning.
“Do you know what to expect if you do not comply?” asked Arlette finally.
“A bullet in the back of the skull, I would think,” he replied with a shrug.
* * *
Cobus Vermeulen watched the approach of Dark Shadow to planet Omega 16-4 and scowled. There was no deceleration. The craft was not going to enter orbit; it was going to slingshot around it. He waited until the manoeuvre was complete and a new course set, then called Arlette.
“When can we expect them?” she asked.
“If they elect to, they could enter orbit around Ceres in sixteen hours and four minutes,” replied Cobus. “Of course they may fly by.”
“I’m not counting on it,” said Arlette grimly. “How’s your snowball doing?”
“It’s in the right window,” replied Cobus. “We have options.”
“OK. Come and join us for a pow-wow. Oh, it might surprise you but Genes Clayton will also be there.”
“Commander?”
“Yes, he’s a bad man but toothless now. We are going to be using his motor skills.”
“OK,” said Cobus dubiously, then, “I’m on my way.”
When he arrived, Henri, Julia and Genes were sitting around the table with Arlette, engaged in a discussion about signalling to an alien culture. Arlette looked up. “Cobus, we are now on red alert. Was Dark Shadow already concealed in the Omega 16 system when we arrived, or has it come through LDST 2 since then?”
“Our satellite has not signalled to us since the installation tests were completed, so it has not detected any movement in LDST 2,” said Cobus, “and therefore we have to assume that Dark Shadow was sitting somewhere, probably on moon 3 of 16-5, when we arrived.
“Why would it do that?” asked Henri.
“There could be lots of explanations, but the most obvious one is that it could be a convenient platform for exploration of the Omega 16 solar system, located close to the exit of their wormhole. I expect they are just as surprised to see us as we are to see them.”
“OK,” said Arlette. “Dark Shadow was not sent to deal with us, it was on an explorative mission of its own. What are they thinking now?”
“It depends on whether their mission was peacefully motivated, to explore and possibly settle, or military, to gain a foothold in another galaxy,” said Henri.
“Alright, what is most likely given that they are on their way here now?”
“Military is marginally more likely,” said Genes. “What would we do if we were in their position? We would say, ‘OK, someone else is busy with 16-3. Let’s not risk a confrontation, let’s go and have a look at 16-4 – they’re pretty similar planets.’ It’s taking quite a risk of confrontation to come straight here unless they are planning some grandiose display of friendship when they get here.”
“Right. What would a grandiose display of friendship look like?” asked Arlette.
“Fireworks,” said Julia.
“Pardon?”
“Fireworks. Something obviously harmless to a civilisation at least as advanced as ours, showing a non-aggressive response.”
“I’ve heard worse ideas,” said Genes. “Do we have any?”
“Actually, yes,” said Arlette. “They are intended for our return to Earth orbi
t, but we could spare some for this purpose. We can also turn Prometheus any colour we like using the LED circuits in the external cameras.”
“That’s cool!” said Julia. “Totally non-aggressive. We could go green. Even aliens know that represents photosynthesis, the basis of peaceful life on both 16-3 and 16-4.”
“Well,” said Arlette, “I was expecting a complex coded transmission, and we’ve ended up with a rotating colour display!”
“Not exactly,” cut in Genes. “We are not going to go yellow!”
“Right,” said Arlette. “Our guests arrive in orbit around Ceres in their 800-hundred-metre-long spaceship and we put on a colourful welcome display for them. Good. What happens next?”
“They either make a similarly harmless gesture to us, or they blow us to bits with their alien ray-guns,” said Julia. “If we’ve concluded that they’re more likely hostile than not, it seems like a bit of a risk.”
“I don’t see us being neutralised that easily,” said Henri. “We don’t have much truly offensive capability, that’s true, but we do have very substantial defences. We can deal effectively with incoming missiles and laser beams. If they have something that can get round that, then our only other option is to run for it.”
“Let’s look at that one,” said Arlette. “Supposing we pull the plug on Ceres for the time being and blast off for a look at 16-4, just as they are arriving?”
“Let’s face facts,” said Genes. “Their ship is hugely faster than we are. If we sail off to 16-4 we’ll be a sitting duck for anything they want to throw at us. Here we have a couple of landers, the atmosphere of Ceres and Cobus’ snowball to play with. If we have to fight, we’re better off fighting here.”
Omnipotence: Book I: Odyssey Page 24