Miranda's Demons

by Ian Miller

  "A wise decision," Marcellus replied, "although others may not see it that way."

  "It's always tempting at times like this to knock out another ship," Gaius replied. "but if I lost these others, we could lose everything."

  "A swift pursuit, and a swift victory might swing the fate of the war," Marcellus noted.

  "A rather un-Ulsian remark," Gaius smiled.

  "I am a Companion," Marcellus countered. "I may be Ulsian made, but I am supposed to be made Terran. You changed the subject."

  "How Ulsian of you to notice," Gaius retorted, "but you are right. Perhaps I am overcautious, perhaps like Pompey, but I don't think pursuit would be decisive if I were successful, and I hope they don't have a Julius on their ships. What I fear, though, is if I do pursue, and fail, that would be decisive. I hope I'm not wrong."

  "At least the local Ulsians won't complain," Marcellus noted with a smile.

  * * *

  Victory had been achieved but it had been won at a heavy cost. Only the Actium was undamaged, although the damage to the Romulus, while significant, was easily repairable. All three Ranhynn vessels were damaged, two of them very severely. The Ulsian scout ship had escaped with little damage, through taking very little part in the battle. The Romulus was to be escorted by the scout ship to the Ulsian base on Chiron for repairs; this manoeuvre was not without risk, because Chiron was the nearest object to the Uranus system, being almost in line with the departing enemy. On the other hand there was no alternative, only Chiron had the required Ulsian technology to make repairs to an advanced ship. Fortunately the M'starn were merely the remnants of a battle fleet, and accordingly it was not expected that they would have major telescopes or long-range detectors.

  The two Ranhynn vessels and the captured M'starn vessel would be flown to the great space junkyard where, at least, there was plenty of metal and the Ranhynn engineers could use this to make repairs. However, there was still a problem with certain parts, and it was concluded that the only option was to declare the third Ranhyn vessel to be unrepairable. Accordingly, it was decided that this vessel should be scrapped, to permit its parts to be used in rebuilding the remaining two ships. The Ranhynn had their engineers and equipment sufficient to do this job, and on Earth everybody would be told of the space battle, and that three ships would be repaired in the junkyard. With any luck, it would not be obvious that a ship was unaccounted for, and the traitors would inform the M'starn that all ships were repaired. Earth manufacturing was not sufficiently advanced to make many of the parts required, but Natasha ordered as much fabricating technology as possible to be transferred to the space junkyard. Although the final parts had to be finished by the Ranhynn, much of the preliminary engineering could be done by Earth technology, and much of the structural work could also be supplied. Although the skill was lacking, the added manpower did accelerate the rebuilding program. It also created its own tensions; Natasha felt that the average human workman was not ready to come face to face with a near dinosaur, so the two parties were kept totally apart, partly through the excuse of alien diseases. Nevertheless, latent protests grew; the humans felt that they were not considered good enough to meet the aliens. In part, that was true.

  The damage to the captured M'starn battle cruiser was largely structural, and had arisen either in previous battles, or through the poorly placed supports on Mars. Terran engineers could repair this damage, and so they had their first glimpses of the type of ship developed by the enemy. However, they were not permitted near the power or weapons systems, and hence learned nothing of significance. Marcellus went through the ship, relabeling everything into its best English equivalent. He then redesigned certain aspects of the ship, and oversaw their implementation so that the ship was more convenient for human pilots. He had also trained weapons crews from Earth, and would train Commissioner Kotchetkova, Shelley Winters and Harry Lansfeld to fly the craft. Each would have turns at solo flying, and flying against the Actium.

  Finally, there were surplus power sources and weapons from the third Ranhyn ship. These were transported to Mars, to be incorporated in a ground-based defensive facility at the Tyrrhena Patera.

  Natasha Kotchetkova pushed the summary file away. They had made progress, but there was so much more to do.

  Chapter 14

  "Elizabeth, I'm glad to see you could make it. Please sit down," Reiner waved to the only chair on the opposite side of the only table in what was a very extensive restaurant.

  "But where is everyone?" Elizabeth Garrett asked, as she stared around in disbelief.

  "I've booked out the entire restaurant," Reiner explained. He pulled a small paging device from his pocket, and smiled. "I see you have five guards outside?"

  "Suppose I said it was six?"

  "Then I shall have to chastise someone," Reiner said, the smile still there. "I also have a number of guards outside. You arrived discreetly. That was good. Nobody will know we were here, which is as it should be."

  "Why did you invite me?" she asked curiously. Her fuse had obviously lit something.

  "I'll come to that," Reiner said, "but first, some menus. I have a range of possible entertainment lined up. Each of the performers is being paid, whether they perform or not, so feel free to choose."

  "But this is incredible," the Commissioner shook her head in bewilderment as she looked at the list. "This must have cost . . ."

  "I wasn't sure of your tastes," Reiner shrugged. "The tastes range from the steamiest live sex show through to the weirdest music I can think of. Ignore the cost. This is being paid for by MinCorp, with no obligation on your part, other than to be pleasant. By the way, if you think this is a waste, many of those performers are students. MinCorp provides for as many students as it can who want to earn extra money. Now, what would you like?"

  "The Mozart divertimenti," Elizabeth said, handing back the first menu. While trying not to do so, she studied every twitch of Reiner's face, to see what impression her choice made.

  "Excellent choice," Reiner said, and beckoned to a waiter. "Now, I know you enjoy food, so examine this menu. Don't think about expense. Just enjoy yourself."

  Elizabeth Garrett had fancied that she was familiar with most delicacies, but this menu seemed designed to show her that perhaps her knowledge was far less substantial. At one stage she heard the sound of an oboe, followed by the sound of strings tuning, and she looked up to see the small group already in place, and almost ready to commence. She looked slightly guiltily towards Reiner, who was sitting back in his chair, his menu folded in front of him.

  "Take your time," Reiner nodded. "The restaurant will stay open as long as you like."

  "I've never seen a menu quite like this," Elizabeth admitted, "but I have made some choices. Perhaps . . ."

  Reiner raised his finger, and two waiters immediately appeared, the orders were taken, and the lively sound of Köchel 251 began to fill the room. Elizabeth took a sip of wine, and leaned back to allow the sound to wash through her. She began to relax, and for the first time in weeks, she felt almost at home. Suddenly she realized that Reiner had really managed to lower her guard, and not only that, she had set the scene herself.

  "There must be a reason for this," she said, as the waiters retreated with their orders.

  "Naturally, you have no recording device on you, or in your bag?"

  "I agreed with your terms," Elizabeth said firmly. "I keep my word."

  "Excellent," Reiner said quietly. "Perhaps I could tell you something which, of course, I never told you."

  "I would have no way of proving that you did, if that's what you mean."

  "Please, don't get suspicious," Reiner said in an assuring tone. "There are no tricks. It's just that I have to protect my own interests."

  "I understand that."

  "Suppose a brief message did get back from the Charitum Tholus, not that I'm saying . . ."

  "Look, Max," Elizabeth interrupted firmly. "Frankly, I couldn't care less whether MinCorp was mining on Mars. Defence
and the Mars Commissioner may not see it in that light, but that's a separate problem, and any speculation here will not be passed on to them. On the other hand, evidence of treachery may."

  "That's fine as far as it goes," Reiner replied gravely, "but of course there's always this grey area."

  "Max," Elizabeth said as she reached over and grasped his hand. "There's no record of what we're saying. Tell me what you feel you can, and then maybe I can give you some advice. Maybe then you'll feel able to tell me more."

  "Fair enough," Reiner replied, with a faint smile. "As I was saying, let's suppose a brief message did get back from Mars, and let's suppose that some mining was being carried out in Argyre, and let's suppose that that message confirms that these miners were murdered by people who can be traced back to GenCorp."

  "Then I would say MinCorp should be pretty angry with Munro," Elizabeth said evenly. "I would also say that this isn't news."

  "Shall we say it's independent confirmation," Reiner agreed. "Have some more wine?"

  "Thank you."

  "Now, suppose I were to go further and to say that Munro once approached me with a plan to get the corporations onto Mars."

  "Let's go even further," Elizabeth prodded. "Let's, for argument's sake, assume you agreed that MinCorp would like to be on Mars?"

  "That's a fair speculation," Reiner agreed. "Now, let's go a step further, and say that Munro wanted to know the names of the MinCorp representatives?"

  "And you wanted the GenCorp ones?"

  "And let's suppose I gave him a partial list, and let's suppose he gave me a list which has subsequently proved to be a list of non-existent settlers."

  "I would say that if that had happened, you'd been cheated."

  "And further suppose," Reiner continued, his voice almost wistful, while his eyes showed a cold ice-grey, "that every person on that list is now either dead or missing."

  "How do you know?"

  "I said the list was partial. I still have my sources of information."

  "Then you should have even more cause to be angry with Munro."

  "You can bet your bottom dollar that I'm more than a little angry with that rotund little shit," Reiner grated, but then he took a breath, and his calmness returned. "The question is," he continued as if his previous anger had never occurred, "where does this leave me?"

  "That depends," Elizabeth shrugged. "Just being on Mars is serious, but not too much so. Collaboration would be more so, but espionage is getting on for being unforgivable, although . . ."

  "Although what?"

  "If the involvement isn't too deep, the right moves now might do wonders for the future of this admittedly speculative situation."

  "I'll admit I made an error of judgement," Reiner said. "I went along with the thought that there wasn't much downside in giving Munro the names of some people with mining experience on Mars, in the reasonable knowledge those people would be called on the assist the M'starn get their minerals. My thoughts at the time were that if a race has the technology to cross interstellar space, they'd find them anyway, and in the meantime I might be able to save the lives of some of the Martian settlers."

  "That's very commendable," Elizabeth said, a trifle harshly. "The fact that, if the M'starn won, you'd be in a pretty good position had nothing to do with this decision?"

  "I concede that I could see opportunistic benefits and that I let greed get the better of me," Reiner said, as he shook his head. "If you assert you've never succumbed to the same problem, perhaps I'm talking to the wrong person."

  "And what's that supposed to mean?"

  "Let's return to some speculation," Reiner continued. "Let's suppose three Commissioners found out that illegal messages were going to Mars, through a GenCorp facility in southern England. Let's suppose three Commissioners decided to make something of this for themselves?"

  There was a silence, as Elizabeth stared into her glass. "That would have been a bit naughty of them," Elizabeth said, finally.

  "Perhaps, an error of judgement?" Reiner asked quizzically.

  "Indeed, perhaps," Elizabeth said slowly. "It's almost as if all this speculation might lead to some sort of a balance?"

  "My thoughts exactly," Reiner said, as he leaned back with a pleased look on his face. "I'm glad to see you live up to my expectations."

  "I may yet disappoint you," Elizabeth warned. "Balance can be temporal, and we have yet to see where we are going."

  "Oh, I agree wholeheartedly," Reiner said firmly, "but I suspect we have some common interests. Neither has any particular love for Munro, and both of us need to do something to improve our positions when all this is over."

  "I help you, you help me. Is that it?"

  "In a nutshell. "

  "And how could I help you?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

  "At the end, you'll help me overcome the problems of this speculative indiscretion."

  "And you'll help me overcome mine?"

  "Hell no," Reiner laughed humourlessly. "I shall put you in the position where you might be able to help me."

  "And how do you propose to do that?"

  "Suppose I could give you useful information?"

  "How useful?"

  "I would say, very useful. If it isn't, then you don't have to help me," Reiner shrugged. "Indeed, you won't be able to."

  "There's no guarantee I'll be able to anyway."

  "No, there isn't. All I want is your word that you'll do your best, if I've given you anything to help you."

  "You have my word. What is it?"

  "Let us suppose –" Reiner started.

  "No suppositions. Facts!" Elizabeth interrupted. "If you can't trust me for five minutes, I can't see how you expect me to honour my side of the deal, and if you don't expect me to honour my side, then there's something wrong with the deal itself."

  "Fair enough," Reiner admitted. "Nobody's spoken to me like that for some time."

  "Perhaps it's half your problem, Max," Elizabeth said. "If you must surround yourself with sycophants, you've got to get used to the sound of praise."

  "Then let me pour you another wine, while the first course is coming," Reiner said, as he leaned back to allow the waiters easier access to the table. The course was served, and Reiner leaned forward to pour the wine as the waiters left.

  "I have very reliable sources of information in the English branch of GenCorp, and in the Connecticut office," Reiner said at last. "The English branch is where the space messages were sent from."

  "I know that."

  "Now, two piece of interesting information have come in, and you should be able to make something of them. The first is that the English boss, Jennifer Munro, has a boyfriend in Defence. He's arriving in England on the fifth, and Harvey has ordered the young man be killed, at Heathrow."

  "That's interesting," Elizabeth said slowly, "if it's true."

  "Costs nothing if it isn't," Reiner shrugged. "The second piece is perhaps more interesting. About the same time, Harvey will send the next message for the M'starn, and he'll use Jennifer's secretary to carry it. If you can intercept that, you may have some of the evidence you need."

  "That's also interesting," Elizabeth said, "but somehow it doesn't ring true."

  "Why not?" Reiner asked with a smile.

  "You're saying that everything's going through Jennifer. She's just a social worker. She's not important."

  "Social worker, my arse," Reiner spat. "If you believe that, you've been fooled. If you go on believing it, you're a bigger fool than I thought possible."

  "But she hasn't even got a title, and she's only got a small office!"

  "Listen! Whom does she report to?"

  "I dunno. The local manager?"

  "Local manager, my arse. She reports only to Harvey. She's the only one in England that reports only to Harvey. Get someone to photograph the top names in England when they speak to her, and you'll see who's subservient."

  "I could do that," Elizabeth agreed, after some thought.

&nbs
p; "Do it, but you really don't have to. Ask yourself this," Reiner said quietly, as he leaned towards Elizabeth. "Apart from that fool who's in Defence, name me one Munro who answers to anyone other than a Munro?"

  "I hadn't thought of it that way," Elizabeth admitted.

  "Then start thinking," Reiner said, as he leaned back and smiled. "Check out what I said. I think you'll find I can be of some assistance to you."

  "I think you might have been more help than you can understand yourself," Elizabeth said quietly. "I think I shall have to be honouring my side of the deal."

  Chapter 15

  For once, there was great elation in the Valles Marineris caves when the little force returned. Until this expedition had taken place, morale had sagged. After the great trek, people expected something to happen, but nothing did. The men trained and reorganized, then they trained again, but still nothing happened. With nothing to do, almost any form of entertainment would draw crowds. Even the soapbox orators had their day in the sun.

  "Fellow workers," Groza spouted. "We're making progress, or so they tell us. We liberated Mars, then we spent weeks crawling into this here hole. Why? Well, we're a sporting lot, so we give the other guy a chance, that's why. We sneak off here, give 'em the whole lot back, just so's we can have another go at getting it back again. Isn't it a lot of fun?"

  "There's more to it than that, Karl!" someone shouted

  "Of course there is," Groza said soothingly. "We have to defeat the enemy, not just sneak up behind him and steal his wallet while he isn't looking. And how much progress have we made? About as much as filling up the Chryse sea, that's how much!"

  The truth of the matter was that McDonald would not commit his forces. As his cautious attitude became apparent to the settlers, many became distressed that their trek was for nothing. Earth Christmas came, and brought little cheer. Then suddenly there was a command; an expedition to the very heart of the enemy! A sense of purpose! The expedition set forth, and even better, it returned with the objective secured.

  The dust storm had raged, and was to rage for several weeks longer. The vehicles had returned undamaged, apart from some bearings ruined through dust abrasion. The whole exercise had been a clear success, but the enthusiasm was soon dampened.