“Penny for them?”
She looked up, quickly, feeling a little guilty as though the person standing in front of her had read her thoughts: it was Commander Rachmel and her smile suggested that she had not read her thoughts.
“Mind if I join you?”
Duarte felt momentarily uncomfortable at being taken unawares, but decided this was a good opportunity to voice her concerns. “No, not at all, please do.”
Rachmel sat opposite and said “That was some deep concentration you had going on there; I was standing in front of you for at least two minutes before I disturbed you; anything you’d like to discuss?”
Uncertainly, Duarte said “Well, I was just wondering; you have flown many missions, with lots of different crews.”
Rachmel waited in case there was to be a question; when it was obvious that Duarte had only required verification to her statement, she replied “Yes, I’ve flown with a few crews.”
“In all your missions were you ever with a crew where any of them were acting a little…,” she paused and appeared to be struggling to find the right word, “…eccentric, or off centre?”
Rachmels mind leapt into overdrive; this was the second time that she had been asked almost the same question in as many days and by as many people. Leaning back in her seat she replied “I can’t really say I’ve noticed anything as strong as that, although I have seen some peoples’ moods change fairly dramatically, depending on the situation, but that is quite normal in our line of work; after all, we sometimes find ourselves in situations that no human being has ever faced before. Why do you ask?”
Duarte paused before she spoke, “Is there something I ought to know about this mission that was not included in my briefings?”
Rachmel met her second officers’ steady gaze, knowing that she was watching for the slightest expression that might give credence to her doubts.
“I understand your concern, as I too feel a little out of place. This is no ordinary milk run mission; it is a leap into the unknown; we are the first human beings ever to enter a wormhole and to, hopefully, observe an alien species; ours is a venture that has only existed in people’s imagination until now. And as if that were not enough we have an Internal Administrator on board; it’s no wonder everyone is feeling a little edgy. Believe me, once we are through the other side of the wormhole and we begin our observations we shall be too busy to worry about other peoples’ idiosyncrasies and by that time the Administrator will be recognised as just another member of the crew.”
“Yes, I understand that, but I just can’t help wondering why a civilian company would approach the Agency; why would they not use one of their own people?”
Rachmels’ alarm bells were beginning to jangle; Duarte was obviously more deeply disturbed by Andretta’s presence than anyone else; could her second officer be one of Andretta’s targets? After all, she was the one who had manoeuvred Duarte into her present position; why was that? She had already decided that Andretta must be confronted, but in the meantime she had to allay any fears that Duarte may have about being suspected.
Putting on her best confident smile she replied “Perhaps none of their people hold a pilot’s certificate, as do all Bureau agents, which is a minimum requirement for all crew operating on a Missions vessel: and regardless of how we view them, Agents do not pursue personal gain, which makes them the most reliable and ideal choice for a civilian company who may profit immensely from this venture. And who knows? There may be no profit to be had from this mission and our illustrious Agent may very well end up on one of the Saturn ice rings projects.”
They both grinned mischievously at the thought of Andretta being sent to the space equivalent of the Siberian salt mines of two centuries ago.
Later that day, Rachmel, astride the hoverbug, came to a halt at the entrance to the port side main drive inspection facility: dismounting, she stepped inside the chamber.
Miles, with his back to her, was studying the Thermo Spectra Analyser. She watched him for a couple of minutes, realising that the Leading Engineering Officer, as had been noted to her, had been acting a little out of character lately. It wasn’t like Miles to avoid contact, but he seemed to be using the hoverbugs wherever he went; was this to cut down the chances of bumping into anyone and being drawn into conversation?
There was Also the question of the secret meetings with Pilot Hidson; what was that all about?
She tried to dismiss her earlier thoughts of these two being Andretta’s targets as unlikely; considering the length of service they had served together she believed that she knew Miles as well as anyone could, but now there was a small niggling doubt; did we really know anyone? She had thought about asking Miles to keep an eye on Kamul, but now she wasn’t so sure.
Putting on her best ‘Hi buddy’ smile, she said “So, what do you think? Are we going to make it on both systems? Or will we have to limp back home on one?”
Miles didn’t look up, but carried on with his viewing and answered as though he had known she was there the whole time. “No problems with these units, they’ll be good for another thousand trips.” And, still avoiding eye contact, he looked up into the main drive unit.
“So, what brings you down to the oily rag department, Commander?”
There was indeed something wrong here, she thought: Miles would never have spoken with his back to her.
“Well, I came down to see if you were still on board; haven’t seen you around lately.”
Miles stood, motionless; his thoughts in turmoil: he felt the urge to tell her of his concerns; after all, he knew and trusted her and she was the Commander of this mission which made it essential that she know everything that was going on aboard. But! Andretta’s indication that he didn’t know anything about Rachmels’ life before the service had left its trail of doubt. He was out of his depth: this was the intrigue kind of world that was the domain of people like Andretta; where folks like him felt uncomfortable and rarely ventured and now his natural vent to converse appeared to have abandoned him. He felt trapped and in a strange place.
The silence had lasted too long: Rachmel knew from Miles’s body language that he was debating with himself whether or not to open up, but she also believed that if she pressed him he could clam up altogether.
She spoke again, quietly. “I have to get back to my quarters: if you feel the need to discuss anything please don’t hesitate: you know where I’ll be.”
Still unmoving, he heard the hoverbug ask “Destination please” and Rachmels’ reply “Commanders quarters.”
Once he was alone he decided that this situation needed to be resolved: he stepped aboard the waiting hoverbug. “Destination please.”
“Agent Andretta’s quarters.” The vehicle moved off, three minutes behind Rachmels’.
Just beyond the observation unit were four small inspection chambers which allowed access by Code Three Engineers into the main drive systems: from one of these chambers Rachmel now emerged to watch Miles disappearing into the distance.
The doorcom sounded “Entry is requested.”
Andretta answered “Who?”
“Leading Engineering Officer Miles.”
The Agent dismissed the globescreen, responding “Permission granted.” And then she turned her seat from the desk to face her visitor.
As Miles stepped through the doorway, she said “Please take a seat” indicating the chair opposite her own at the desk and watched as the Engineer strode purposefully toward her; she could see that he was highly agitated and so she decided to take control of the situation from the start.
As he sat down she asked “Is anyone aware of our earlier conversation?”
Miles was taken by surprise by the suddenness of the question: he looked at her and felt the creases beginning to appear on his forehead: the questions he was going to ask were still going round in his mind and here he was, stumbling for an answer.
“What? No, nobody knows anything from me.” But then Hidson sprang into his mind, “W
hy do you ask?”
Her eyes seemed to bore into his for a long two seconds and he had the distinct impression that she could actually see the lie hiding there at the centre of his brain. She smiled and sat back in her seat, “Good.” she said “It makes a pleasant change to
have the opportunity of working with someone with integrity and cool demeanour. MAC.”
The response was immediate, “Agent Andretta request please.”
“Mainframe and remote interfaces in this section closedown.”
“Complied.”
To Miles she said “Now, please tell me how I can help.”
Miles felt as though most of the wind had been taken from his sails: he had come here to demand more information and to find out how the Commander could possibly be suspected of being in league with an alien race. But the best he cold manage was to say, quite calmly, “I understand why you are reluctant to tell me who it is that you are observing, but I’m finding it extremely difficult to come to terms with the idea that Commander Rachmel could be a suspect given the fact that she has no children, when you said that one of your suspects has a child; how can this be possible?”
Andretta appeared to be mulling over the question, and then eventually she came to a decision.
“Very well” she said. “But what I am about to reveal to you is of an extremely delicate nature, and must be treated with the utmost secrecy. You cannot even relate to Commander Rachmel that you are aware of this information. Please understand that what I am about to divulge is purely to put your mind at ease and that I am trusting to your integrity. This knowledge is not, I repeat not, to be considered fair game for Galley chit chat: do you agree to the conditions?”
Miles’s thoughts were on overdrive. What the hell am I getting into here? What can she possibly have on Rachmel that I don’t know about? And is it something that I would be comfortable with in knowing? These questions were beginning to burn into his mind, but he knew he had to go on. He nodded slowly; never taking his eyes from the woman.
“Yes,” he said softly, “I agree.”
Andretta’s unblinking gaze seemed to bore into him again.
“Very well.” She clasped her hands and rested her arms on the desk in front of her. “Commander Rachmel: Echo Oscar 24297: born 20-08-2145: age at entry to service twenty four years.
At eighteen years of age she gave birth to a child, a female child; this being the product of an illicit liaison with a man who promised her the world and then left.”
Miles was dumbstruck; he had known Rachmel for years; how would he not have suspected something like this? It had to be a mistake: the agent was wrong.
Andretta went on, “This was a devastating blow, for, as you are aware, her family is one of a community of old fashioned values and religion, who consider an unmarried pregnancy as shameful to the family name and so, for the final six months of the pregnancy, she and her sister were sent to a private location and when they returned her sister was carrying a new baby daughter: the sister in question being already married with one son: To all, outside the immediate family circle, Commander Rachmel is considered to be the Childs’ aunt.”
There was silence as Miles struggled to absorb this information: he could feel his heart thumping against his rib cage and the sudden surge of blood being driven around inside his brain almost caused him to pass out.
Eventually, he regained his composure and then said “But I’ve met her family, many times: I’ve seen her niece and I have to say she doesn’t look anything like the Commander; and how can you possibly have information like that when no one else knows? This has to be an error, you’ve got it wrong this time.”
Andretta’s smile did not reach her eyes. “You are quite right, the child does not look like her mother, but she does look like her father and as for the quality of my information; be advised that the Agency knows everyone’s everything; that is, every person on Earth. If you would like a demonstration I could call up my files and tell you the date that you first masturbated.”
Miles became aware that his jaw was hanging open; he looked at her as he waited for the punch line, but one was not apparent: the woman was deadly serious and suddenly, he didn’t want to be there; he felt devastated, soiled, raped: he had peered into the murky waters of the Agency and did not like what he had seen.
Everything he had ever heard about Agents was true; these weren’t people, they were creatures: little wonder they were referred to as ghosts. He was acutely aware of being both fearful and hateful of Andretta at the same time: he had to get out.
Without another word, Miles rose and made for the door: as the door opened he turned and said, angrily, “How the hell do you people sleep at night?”
Andretta shrugged her shoulders and replied “We lie down and close our eyes, just like everyone else, Leading Engineer.”
Miles stormed out of the room, failing to see the figure standing off to the side in the corridor, and made his way to his quarters, leaving the Hoverbug by the doorway.
Rachmel watched as Miles disappeared into his quarters and then, in a low voice, she instructed the mainframe, “Hoverbug in this section to parking bay.”
Immediately, the vehicle that Miles had used moved off in search of an empty bay and, locating one a few metres away, it stopped. As a panel in the bulkhead slid noiselessly the hoverbug moved sideways into the opening, the door closing silently again once the vehicle had entered.
Rachmel placed her hand on the door entry pad to Andretta’s quarters and a few seconds later the door opened. She stepped inside and waited for the door to close behind her.
Andretta was standing, facing her, “Commander, please come in.”
They both sat facing each other, neither wanting to be the first to speak; after a few long moments Rachmel decided she was not going to win the disarming stare contest, for this kind of behaviour was bread and butter to an Agent; she tried another tack.
“So, how do you sleep at night, Agent Andretta?”
Without pause, the woman answered “I sleep very well, Commander, better than you do yourself, in fact; perhaps a consultation with the good Medical Officer Coles may be of benefit.”
Rachmel couldn’t tell if she were being serious or sarcastic; it was true that she wasn’t sleeping well and she had intended to speak to Coles about it; but how in hell had this woman known? Had she bugged the whole vessel and was now watching everyone on board? Or could she read a person so well that she knew what they were thinking and feeling?
As if reading her mind Andretta suddenly asked “Perhaps there is something you would like to tell me Commander?”
This completely threw Rachmel and she had to gather her wits quickly. “Perhaps it would be more appropriate for you to tell me something about myself, Agent Andretta.”
The Agent smiled and this time it seemed genuine. “Touché Commander; please forgive my old habits, but you didn’t come here to discuss sleep.”
Rachmel leaned forward onto the desk. “No, you’re quite right. We shall approach the wormhole in a little over two weeks time and I would feel more comfortable about the safety of this mission and my crew if I knew who these persons were that you have under surveillance. I would like to be sure that they are the first to go into Biohibernation status; after all, that is when we are at our most vulnerable, do you not agree?”
“Yes, Commander, I do agree; however, my earlier response still holds true, in that I am the only one on board who is trained to do this kind of work and with due respect to everyone else on this mission they are trained for other specific tasks and would be noticed very quickly at any attempt of surveillance, yourself included.
“These people have been living amongst us for two hundred years and have become extremely adept at life as human chameleons; and there should be no cause for concern about the hibernation process; that is why I have been chosen for this mission.”
Rachmel knew she was right of course, but it still seemed ironic that someone who was so loathed by
her crewmates was in fact here to protect those same people. However, she still had the problem of Miles; she couldn’t afford to have her Leading Engineer going off the rails, or to find that he was one of the observed.
“Very well” she said, “And now I’d like to ask you why my Leading engineer left your quarters in such a distressed state immediately before I arrived. I have known him for many years and he is not the kind of hot headed fool who would put his life and career at risk by coming in here and telling an Internal Administrator just what he thinks about her, so I must conclude that your conversation with him had something to do with your true purpose for being here.”
The two women regarded each other unblinkingly for several seconds; Rachmel was debating whether or not to ask her right out, when Andretta spoke first.
“So, what is your question, Commander?”
Rachmel answered immediately, “Is Leading Engineer Miles one of your targets?”
Andretta gave one of her smiles that did not invite her eyes to take part. “I won’t tell you on the grounds that should you ask the same question about someone else you would discover who it is by process of elimination and that would put my mission and your mission in jeopardy: as for the Leading Engineers’ state of mind, I would suggest you speak with Leading Medical Officer Coles, she, after all, is the expert in that particular field.”
The ensuing silence told Rachmel that their conversation had reached its end; she got up to leave. Then Andretta spoke again.
“Commander, I make no pretence of possessing medical nor psychiatric knowledge; but as you are no doubt aware, that because of the nature of my work I have learned to read people and to understand what makes them tick, as much as you, being an Engineer, understand propulsion units; in my view your Leading Engineer is not a danger to this mission or anyone on board. I know how difficult it is for people to have to endure the presence of an Agent even for a short time; they feel guilty even though they have done nothing wrong and don’t understand why they should feel that way.
INTERVENTION Page 6