“Thanks,” Mun said. “What about you and Amanda?”
“Create new identities and settle down, just like Terri always wanted,” Amanda said.
Terri beamed at Amanda’s words and kissed her in response.
“I intend to make a case to stay,” Ronan announced. “It is my current assignment and they will need a chaplain.”
Mun, Keyes and Terri exchanged glances. “I hope they keep you,” Amanda said, “Ken, Fi and Lena will need you.”
“How about you, Cyrus?” Mun asked. “You got any plans?”
“The head of my old company is looking to put something together,” the big man declared. “I guarantee Jan would take Amanda and Mun; you too, Father, if staying on here doesn’t pan out. And Terri, there’s more to mercenary work than just doing the jobs. I’m sure she’d find a place for you as well. In fact, your captain friend may be of interest to her.”
“Count us in,” Amanda said. It’ll be good to keep the band together.”
“Looks like we have some options at least,” Terri noted. “Which is more than I can say for the captain. He may be getting a good deal, given the circumstance, but he has no options whatsoever.”
“So long as Fiona and Lena are safe, he won’t care,” Cyrus noted. “And once it’s all over, it sounds like he’ll have a plethora of options, including staying on with Starfleet with the rank of captain.”
All agreed on that last part. Unspoken was the fact that Velos was potentially still after them and that there were others who still had an interest in members of the group, including the Alliance. They all hoped that Tracht would enable them to beat a quiet, hasty retreat before their enemies could gather against them.
The exchange in the mess with Kendrick, Ronan and Lena the prior week had been on Heather’s mind ever since. Thus far, the captain, the priest and Lena had been the only ones willing to eat with the young engineer, but try as she might, Heather could not get them to budge on what it was Lena had said, “She doesn’t know.” Kendrick had advised her to seek her answers from the colonel. With Martins’ attempt to take the Selene and the excitement that had ensued, followed by the closed door meeting about the Promethean Project, talking to the colonel had not been a priority. Now, however, Heather could put it off no longer; she had to integrate into a close relationship with Kendrick, Fiona and Lena, and this information could be vital to her accomplishing that.
As she rode the lift, Heather pondered Lena. The gynoid was somehow different since her encounter with the G.A.I.S.F, seeming demurer. Her doe-eyes and pleasant smile made the gynoid look even more innocent than before; Lena had never been so wide eyed, even when she had first come aboard. Now, she looked like, like a regular Escort-7. Even her demeanor had undergone a regression, as Lena now spoke sweetly and demurely all the time. It seemed that winning the gynoid over would not be much of a task, which boded well for the remainder of the voyage. Kendrick and Fiona were a different story. The captain was being polite, but she knew that he was keeping her at arms-length and corralling her, though she hoped to take advantage of Fiona’s being placed in cryo-stasis for the remainder of the voyage. She could win the captain over on the way back to Earth. Fiona could wait until the project began.
She exited the lift and walked to Tracht’s cabin in Pod Beta, sounding his chime. When his voice sounded on the intercom, saying, “Enter,” the doors swished open and Heather went inside, standing at attention and saluting her superior officer. Tracht returned her salute and bid her to take a seat.
“What can I do for you, Ms. Dalrymple?”
Heather winced at the name. She hated it, though she did not know why.
“Sir,” she began. “Captain Royce alluded to my not knowing something at a lunch conversation after I told him that I had volunteered for this mission. When I pressed him about it, he told me to ask you, saying it was above his pay grade.”
“And you thought I would know what he was talking about without any context?” The colonel’s dismissive response was a clear feint.
“The context was me volunteering for this mission,” Heather reminded him. “What is it that you’re not telling me?”
“Classified information,” Tracht said. “Those answers are on a need to know basis and you don’t. You have a job to do, Lieutenant; one that all that fancy hardware in your thick skull was installed to enable you to do.”
“What happens when this job is done?”
“You’ll get a new assignment,” Tracht replied. “That is a very long way off, though; the Promethean Project is roughly ten years in length and you may be attached to Royce for some time after that.”
“Do you really think he’ll need me to keep an eye on him after a decade with Starfleet?”
“Ms. Dalrymple,” Tracht said with some agitation in his voice, “Kendrick is unique and his abilities will be sought even after this project concludes. He must never work for anyone other than Starfleet, or in his former capacity as a transport pilot. If he re-ups after the project is concluded, that will put a lot of people’s minds at ease. Then there’s the matter of the gynoid and the doctor. The gynoid is an Escort-7; they have a lifespan of ten years. Lena will probably not last the duration of the project. Fiona, however, is another story. As long as she’s alive and attached to Royce, he bears watching.”
Heather blanched at this. She could theoretically be stuck babysitting the happy couple for the next thirty years. Royce was a very good looking man, his raw masculinity and sex appeal were a major bonus to her. If she could bed him, she would. But in thirty years, he would be in his seventies, while Heather would only be in her early fifties. Would the appeal of a man so much older still hold? She doubted it. The fact that he had no interest in her whatsoever, did not help matters.
Suddenly, Heather realized that she was just like the captain: Tracht held her freedom over her head with the threat of reprogramming her into a sex toy; or whatever he wished. She had no real freedom and in fact, had less freedom than even Fiona. No, she thought, I’m not like the captain; I’m like Lena. I’m nothing more than property to be repurposed at Tracht’s whim.
“Understood, sir,” she said glumly. “Nothing more, sir.”
“Dismissed, Lieutenant.”
Heather left Tracht’s cabin as quickly as was polite. She did not even remember taking the lift to Pod Alpha. All she remembered was running into her own cabin and throwing herself onto her bed and sobbing uncontrollably.
Amanda and Fiona floated in the Nexus, their stasis pods, one fearful of awakening to violent illness at the voyage’s end, the other contemplative, pondering what would happen as she slept through the voyage. Her husband would have only Jax, Heather and Lena for company, a Heather and Lena who were no longer the women they had been. Heather had transformed into an agent of the U.S. government with a radically different personality than the Heather that Kendrick had hired on Luna, a personality that was tasked with keeping an eye on the captain and Fiona, and who had more than a professional interest Kendrick. Then there was Lena.
The gynoid had all of the memories and knowledge of Lena, but somehow, after the encounter with the G.A.I.S.F, she was no longer Lena. The Escort-7 had expressed nothing other than a desire to do whatever ‘her captain’ should ask of her and had declared that her sole mission in life was to make Kendrick happy. While happiness could take many forms, Escort-7 gynoids were designed to provide a very specific kind of happiness. While she had no doubt that her husband would remain faithful, the question remained; could either one be recovered?
“I can’t do it!”
Amanda’s cries pulled Fiona from her own worries. The doctor looked over at the agent, who looked physically ill, with a flustered and worried Terri trying to convince her that it would be all right. Fiona reached into her pocket and removed a small bottle, handing it to Amanda.
“Take two before you go under,” she instructed. “You’ll digest before you’re body ceases to function and on awakening, it will go right into
action. Trust me, it works. It’s how I’ve survived cryo in the past.” Fiona smiled. “You’re not the only one who suffers ill effects from traveling in stasis.”
Amanda took the bottle, saying, “Thanks,” before steeling herself and climbing into the pod.
Terri kissed her tenderly saying, “It’ll be all right. The captain will be awake; he won’t let anything happen to us.”
As Amanda and Terri said their goodbyes, Fiona looked to her husband. He had already shared handshakes and good luck wishes with the crew and now, it was just the two of them.
“I love you, Ken, and I will dream of you while I sleep.”
“I’ll dream of you too, Fi.” He smiled, running his fingers through her long gray hair. “I love you, more than life itself.”
“I know … but Heather and Lena …”
“Do nothing but their jobs,” Kendrick said sternly, as though to reassure her.
“I’m not worried about that, Ken!”
“Oh?”
“Talk to them, Ken,” she implored. “You’ll have them for a year without any interference from Tracht. Figure out what’s wrong with Lena and try to find our Heather. If she’s in there, I just know you can bring her back.”
“And if she’s not?”
This was a very real possibility. “Then, help her to become something more than what she is. She doesn’t realize it, but she needs you. Jax has no connection with her and neither does Lena anymore. You’re her friend, Kendrick. Help her.”
“I will, I promise,” he said. “Now, it’s time.” Kendrick kissed her deeply, lowering her into the pod, kissing her all the while. When he finally had laid her down and their lips parted, she gasped for air. “Now, you rest, and leave Heather and Lena to me.”
“Bring us home safely and awaken me as soon as you’re able. I love you, Ken.”
“I’m counting the seconds, Fi,” he said, smiling his crooked smile. “I love you. Now rest and have the sweetest of dreams.”
Kendrick kissed her again before closing the pod, waving to her as he set the controls. Fiona waved back, watching as the glass misted over. The doctor began a silent prayer for her husband, for Commander Jax, for Heather and Lena, and for a safe voyage, and felt her body cool as the temperature dropped. Then she felt the needles enter her body, injecting the various drugs that would induce the coma that was cryo-stasis. Fiona blacked out before the needles left her body, her silent prayer the last thought on her mind.
Kendrick took the helm of the Selene in lieu of his place in the captain’s chair. He would be flying his silver liner from this seat for the duration of the Promethean Project, so he thought he had better get used to it. Lena and Jax soon entered the bridge, Lena taking her place at astrogation. Jax looked the bridge over, as though he were not sure which seat to take.
“Go ahead and take the captain’s chair,” Kendrick suggested. “You’re in command at this point anyway, so you may as well take it.”
“You sure?” Jax’s query was genuine. He was not like Tracht; Jax cared about people more than orders and seemed to have a genuine respect for Kendrick beyond merely that of the civilian captain’s Austin test scores and piloting skills.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Kendrick said. “Course is laid in, Heather’s at the ready and Lena’s connected. You ready to jump to Mach-30 and go home?”
“More than ready,” Jax replied. “Go ahead and hit it.”
“With pleasure.”
Kendrick ignited Selene’s massive engines, initiating a maximum burn, bringing the ship to its top speed. Once she hit Mach-15, he transferred control to Lena, who engaged the autopilot. The stars seemed to speed past them in Selene’s panoramic vista window and Kendrick reclined in his chair, again awed by the grandeur of it all. Somehow, in spite of the very lengthy obligations placed upon him, he finally felt free. Free of the doubts and free from the grief that he had carried for five long years. Fiona was finally his and their new life was about to begin.
“Fiona was right. The heavens really are telling the glory of God,” he said aloud, reclining with his arms folded behind his head and a crooked smile on his face.
Epilogue
The Prime Minister of the United Planetary Alliance, Berrak Yilmaz, sat at her desk reading the report that the A.I.I. director had set before her, reeling from the ramifications of it. She winced as she read about General Martins’ attempts at gaining Royce’s cooperation and at his handling of the last operative on Xing’s team, Amanda Keyes. Then, she got to the part where it was revealed that he had hired Lorgen and Berrak thought she might become ill. Now, the United States had obtained Royce’s cooperation and their Promethean Project had been greenlit. Without Royce and his ship, the Alliance initiative that needed him was dead in the water and the United States would be able to control access to the outer planets.
“Is this … accurate?”
“It is,” the director replied. “Martins has cost us the solar system.”
Berrak laughed mirthlessly. “How ironic that the fate of the plans of the Alliance and of the United States, and indeed the fate of the system, all come down to one man, and who ends up getting him on their side.”
“Perhaps we need to take a different approach,” the director said. “That was one of my agents that was hung out to dry by Martins. My agency never authorized it and it was only due to the efforts of two of your predecessor’s appointees that Martins was even brought in.”
“I’m aware of that, Director Dench. “Martins is dead and the appointees in question have been sacked for their part in this debacle. Now, I want to know what you meant when you said we need a new approach.”
“Not new, Madam Prime Minister; just different.”
“Go on.”
“Amanda Keyes has not been discharged from the agency yet and she’s perfectly placed,” Dench reminded her. “All she needs is an assignment. Of course, we’ll need to reassure her that her partner is in no danger and that Martins was acting alone. This is one of those rare circumstances where the truth is actually beneficial to us.”
Berrak stood when he said this, glaring at him. “The truth is always beneficial to us.”
Dench nodded, chuckling nervously. “I did not mean to imply otherwise,” he assured. “Only that in this case, we have nothing to hide. Amanda Keyes could give us vital feedback; if we can get her to convince Tracht to let her join the mission.”
The prime minister shook her head. “Grasping at straws. We need an option that doesn’t depend upon convincing a woman we’ve burned that we didn’t mean to. Now, if we could convince the United States to allow us to at least have a presence aboard this mission, say as an olive branch in light of our General being slain and the Icarus, with her captain and crew, being sent on a two-year voyage, then Keyes could be placed there, along with a top science team that we could offer. Not to mention agreeing to shoulder some of the mission costs; governments love getting free money.”
“Very shrewd, ma’am.”
“That’s why I’m the prime minister,” Berrak said with a laugh.
Dench laughed with her, but her intercom chimed. Berrak answered, asking, “What is it, Tess?”
“Ma’am, you have an incoming call,” Tess replied. “It’s the White House.”
Prime Minister Yilmaz froze. “Dench,” she whispered. “You’re dismissed. I need to take this right away.”
“Yes, Madam Prime Minister.”
As soon as Dench had left, Berrak picked up the phone. “This is Prime Minister Yilmaz,” she said.
“Good morning,” said a friendly female voice. “This is President Lenore Robinson, and I have an offer you won’t want to refuse.”
Everything had unraveled. Verner Ness sat behind his massive, burled walnut desk, contemplating the repercussions of General Martins’ failure to bring Royce over to the U.P.A, and Colonel Tracht’s success in bringing Royce over to the United States. The Promethean Project, Tracht’s baby, would go forward, only now, it would do so
without NessCorp. Ness’s gamble had backfired in the most spectacular way and now, President Robinson was gunning for him. Thanks to NessCorp’s switching sides and withholding information that ended up costing the lives of American soldiers, Congress was now prepared to throw his company under the bus. It would not be the end of NessCorp, but quarterly profits were falling almost as fast as NessCorp’s stock prices.
There was some good news, however. With Lorgen being reported dead, it was time to send another team to the Venus facility. There was something there, something that he had intended to bury because it was a potential threat to the very existence of humanity, but now, he was desperate. If Ness’s secret yet remained in the facility, it could change everything. It was time to roll the dice again. Only this time, he hoped that his gamble would result in a big win for the company. If not, it would be a colossal loss, one that would not only finish NessCorp, but could also finish the human race.
Ironically, Kendrick Royce was as connected to this secret as he was to the Selene. Unlike the Promethean Project, however, Royce’s presence was not necessary. With the plan forming in his mind, he picked up the phone and called in Hans Falco and Amelda Delgado. It was time to act, and he would strike while the iron was hot.
End
Table of Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Love Thy Enemy
Chapter 2
Let the Games Begin
Chapter 3
Keyes to the Kingdom
Chapter 4
Date Night
Chapter 5
Mars
Chapter 6
Phoenix Station
Chapter 7
Awakening
Chapter 8
Surrounded
No Safe Harbor: The Silver Liner Page 31