by JB Penrose
Rachel looked to Peter before she said anything more, and when Peter gave a resigned shrug Rachel took Gail’s hands in her own.
“Andrew and John must get into PROBE-Tech,” Rachel said. “If Peter or I make any contact it will draw too much attention but they should know that we’re trying to clear their names so the Aurora can launch. But they also need to know about the information you found. I think you can get it to them.”
“I can do that.”
“Alright, then.” Peter shook his head but continued. “Andrew and John are staying at a house on North Collins. Do you know that part of town?”
Gail nodded.
“They’ll be there until tonight, but you’d better leave now in case they need to change their plans.” Peter looked at her seriously. “Now listen to me. Tell them everything you know about Morrow and Iscar. Trust Andrew, he’ll take care of you. Tell him that I - let’s see, how can I explain the tasht?”
“Tell him to be careful what he thinks because his brother can hear every word!” Rachel joked.
“I’ll do it.” Gail tried to stay focused. “What should I say you’re doing?”
“We still need to see President-elect Cauthron, and make sure they can launch safely the next time.”
“But Frank will stop you! He’s sure to know you were in my office. I forgot to clear you through security when we left. They’ll know you’re with me.”
“You probably shouldn’t go to work again.” Peter advised. “At least, not until this thing gets cleared up.”
“But you can’t trust anyone! President Wilson gave Frank full control. What will you do? I can’t help you anymore at the capital, and I don’t know anyone else we can trust.”
“We’ll get to the President-elect and clear the Aurora so they can launch safely,” Rachel explained, “but John and Andrew will need help with the repairs to the ship.”
Peter looked at her curiously but she continued.
“Will you help them?” Rachel asked. “Even if we can’t give you any reasons or information?”
Gail nodded, excited. “I trust you.”
“It’s a rare quality to trust blindly,” Rachel told her. “I hope you never lose your faith to do so.”
Peter gave her instructions to their location. “And tell Andrew that James needs an extra jehu relay.”
“This address is on a bus route. I can catch one just around the corner. Do you want my car? You can even stay in the apartment if you need.” Gail removed the keys from her purse and placed them on the table. She pulled her coat on before either of them changed their minds, or she did. Gail’s heart was in her throat.
“You probably shouldn’t come back here until this all blows over. It could take a few days,” Rachel said. “Do you have a neighbor who could watch Honey?”
“Don’t worry about her. She’s used to my long hours and I have a self-feeder set up that will last for a week.” Gail rubbed the feline’s tummy and released a deep sigh. Shyly, she hugged Rachel goodbye. “Will I see you again?”
“We’ll see each other,” Rachel promised. “I think we’ll be great friends.”
* * *
Great friends. Gail kept the thought paramount in her mind. The bus ride across the city was like a movie; she kept her face turned away from inquisitive stares and sat hunched in the seat with her coat pulled tightly around her. She got off a block early and didn’t move from the corner until the bus was out of sight.
The DayStar always seemed to lead her on, and she felt comforted in its glow. Snow lay undisturbed on the lawns of the North Collins street. The quiet neighborhood was sparsely decorated with Christmas lights. Above her, clouds darkened the sky. Mother Nature was building another storm. Gail hoped they figured that into their plans.
The drapes parted slightly when she came up the front steps. She knocked and quietly called out. “Rachel and Peter sent me.”
The door opened and Gail stepped inside feigning enough confidence to make it look natural to anyone watching. The door closed behind her before anyone spoke.
“Who are you? Why are you here?”
“How did you find us?”
She tried to smile in spite of her nerves and took off her coat to make herself look more confident. “Rachel and Peter told me to come. I’m supposed to help you.” Both men tried to intimidate to her with stern expressions, but becoming friends with Rachel had given her a new assurance.
“Help? How can you help?” Andrew stepped even closer. “I know who you are. Don't you work for Frank Morrow?”
She nodded; her eyes fixed on him. “I know who you are, too. And your brother,” she stressed, “said I should trust you completely.” Her courage returned and she shook her head. “As for my job, I don’t work for Frank anymore. I’m here to help you.”
“And we should trust you?” John turned to Andrew and shrugged.
“Rachel does,” Gail answered quickly. She saw that trust carried some weight with them and relaxed.
“Come in and sit down. If Rachel and Peter sent you, then we’d better listen to what you have to say.”
Andrew’s scrutiny softened, and eventually he smiled at Gail’s attempted bravery. Trust blindly, she remembered Rachel’s encouragement.
The room had only the barest necessities for furniture, and no personality. There were no pictures on the wall, nor any books in the bookcase. On the coffee table in front of the sofa, a laptop computer was running. Andrew moved it to another table.
She sat on the sofa with John and Andrew hovered close. It was comforting how all these people protected each other. She managed a smile.
“Let’s start with how Peter and Rachel knew we were here,” Andrew said.
“I'm not sure,” Gail admitted. “Something about a tasht? Rachel says Peter can hear if you think hard enough.”
“The tasht must be working as some kind of communicator. That’s good news. What else can you tell us?” Andrew finally sat down.
“I'm supposed to tell you everything. Like that James wants an extra jehu relay. Peter says they can't help with the ship repairs but he has a plan to clear your names and so you can launch safely. Frank, uhh, Frank Morrow is building a horrible case against Captain Reider and the rest of you.”
“I’m just John, okay? And,” he thumbed over his shoulder; “he’s Andrew. Relax, we’re all friends.”
Gail nodded, still tense with excitement. “Of course it's all lies, but I gave Rachel and the Professor, Peter, a copy of Frank’s PROBE-Tech files.”
“Morrow had PROBE-Tech files?” Andrew jumped up, disgusted.
“Just the gate-entry log. Not that much,” she said.
“It was enough to get you here,” he mumbled.
“Well, yes. I helped Rachel and the Professor get clear from security at the capital this morning, and now, I'm supposed to help you.”
“You've already done that, thanks. Now, I want you to go home and forget you saw us,” John told her.
“I can't go home. I copied Frank's PROBE-Tech file and gave it to Peter. Peter said not to go back to work, and that the BGA would probably be coming around the house, too, and that’s why I can’t stay there.”
“So Rachel and Peter sent you to us?”
Andrew seemed doubtful of her usefulness, but she persisted. “Peter said you’d take care of me.”
Andrew’s eyes rolled to John, but Gail cut off their objections.
“You need me. Trust me.”
“Well, if Peter and Rachel trust her...” John considered the possibilities.
“They do! Now, tell me how I can help.”
Andrew shrugged with resignation. “I don’t know just yet, but we're making our move tonight.”
Gail spent the evening telling John and Andrew everything she knew about Frank Morrow. Andrew was horrified about the PROBE-Tech file in Frank’s computer, but seemed impressed the way she’d put the clues together. It was a relief to give the information about Frank’s connection with Jude Iscar
to Peter and Rachel. John assured her they would know just what to do with it.
Suddenly, her stomach growled and she laughed, embarrassed. Gail hadn’t realized the day’s events had carried her through breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
“I guess we’re all ready for something to eat,” John said. “We have a long night in front of us.”
“I’m cooking,” Andrew said. “What would you like to try? The menu is limitless, literally.”
“I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Try the breakfast tacos,” John told her. “Or the Rueben.”
“Breakfast tacos? At midnight?” Gail asked. “I’ll go with the Rueben.”
“One of my favorites. Count me in,” John said.
“Number 7’s all around.” Andrew pulled something the size of a sugar cube from a drawer. “It’s as easy as your microwave.”
The replicator unit looked simple enough, but Gail eyed the small black cube with suspicion. “This is what you eat?”
“No, we’re eating Reuben’s. And it will even smell like one.”
John set aside the laptop and sprawled on the couch. “Andrew? Toss me a beer.”
“Some things are better when they’re not replicated,” Andrew explained when he opened the refrigerator.
* * *
Peter locked the door and watched from the window as Gail disappeared down the stairs.
“Now what should we do?” Rachel asked.
“Doesn’t the Spokesmon know?” Peter ducked when she tossed a pillow from the couch. “Oh, yes, you’re much better at making it up as you go along.”
“You have to admit that having Gail’s help was a nice surprise. We might still be tied up in Frank Morrow’s office.”
“Tied up is right,” Peter told her. “But we’re no closer than before to seeing President-elect Cauthron. I hope Gail can help Andrew and John. You’re sure sending her there was the right thing?”
Rachel nodded. “That much I’m sure of.”
“Then we’d better consider our own options quickly. If she works for Morrow, someone else is bound to know she was moving.” Peter was already reaching for his bag. “The best disguise is to fit right in.”
“You mean we have to break out our traveling clothes again?”
Peter smiled and patted his valise. “We need help getting the truth out, and we need to stay out of Morrow’ sight. I don’t think he’ll look for us in a church.”
“So we hide in a church?”
“Hide? No, but I say we go where the truth will be heard, and passed on to the right ears.” Peter kissed her cheek. “We have friends,” he added in Latin.
“Cardinal Jackson!” Rachel finally understood. “Mother explained the strong network of graduates.”
Peter nodded. “I’ll make a few calls. Why don’t you finish your coffee and change clothes when you’re ready.”
Rachel checked her reflection in the mirror. The nun’s habit she wore was a European style with a floor length skirt, which did well to hide her leather boots. She smoothed the layers of clothing, thankful at least, for the modern wrinkle-free fabric.
“The taxi’s here.” Peter kept a steady vigil at the window. “I phoned while you were changing. It’s probably not safe to use Gail’s car. I phoned the church, too. Lucas is in a meeting, but I didn’t want to leave a message.”
“At least it will be a place to wait while we plan our next move.”
“I get the feeling our next move will plan its self.”
Just after they stepped out the door a black sedan screeched to a halt between the taxi and Gail’s minivan. Rachel tensed and Peter rocked on the balls of his feet. Three men bounded up the steps toward them.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” The man in the front was out of breath from running up the stairs. Moisture beaded on his forehead. He seemed determined to lock them between the door and the curb. The two others behind him were dressed in similar black suits, and stopped on the lower landing. Peter smiled and stepped toward the man-in-charge.
“I am Father Ricardo. And Sister Mary Catherine. We came by to welcome Ms. Richards to the neighborhood.” He morphed his accent into something Spanish and smiled broadly.
“Obviously we arrived at an inconvenient time,” Rachel changed her accent to match Peter’s. “She doesn’t seem to be at home. Is there something wrong?”
The man stepped between them and knocked on the door. They all waited in silence; he knocked again. The Suits shifted with impatience; Peter and Rachel smiled.
“I suppose we should move on. That’s our taxi. We’ll phone Ms. Richards later to reschedule.” Peter led the way down the steps.
“Wait a minute. I need to get your names.” The man checked his pockets for a pen and pad.
“I think not.” Rachel distracted him from his search with a hand on his arm. She held his eyes with her own. “We’re on our way to another appointment. Our time is limited.” She released him with a smile and nodded to the others behind him, before she followed Peter down the steps in silence. No one challenged them as they got in the waiting taxi.
“That was a good trick.” Peter closed the door when they were in the taxi.
“It wasn’t a trick, it was the truth.”
* * *
It was late in the afternoon when Frank Morrow landed the hoverjet at a remote warehouse outside of Las Vegas. At this time of the day, the DayStar was always the brightest light in the sky. He would have preferred there was no Light at all, except it brought the Aurora into the picture.
He left the Immortal Valley two days ago. They traveled separately, and Frank flew back to the States under Iscar’s secret arrangements. His directions were precise. From the Valley he piloted a private plane to a small airport in Greece, and on again to another location in Wales before exchanging his ride for the hovercraft to fly into Canada and south to the meeting location at the Grand Canyon.
It was titillating to operate under cover again. Although, as Director of the BGA Frank ignored the usual red tape, there were still too many people to answer to. That was the problem with government - too many people.
Frank lit a cigarette as soon as he jumped out of the hovercraft. It was a clear day for December. Easy hunting. How fortunate John Reider chose the Grand Canyon for his hideout; it was an area Frank knew well. Not only was he a graduate of the University of Arizona, he also spent months at a time hiking routes through the canyon as an extension of his Special Forces training. Nothing as large as the Aurora could hide from him in his own backyard.
If the truth were known, he’d almost forgotten to fire when the Aurora appeared overhead. It was an awesome sight. Almost the size of a football field, it hovered silently overhead yet a tornado of tunneled sand hummed beneath it. Now, finding it again was all he could think about. He tossed away the cigarette butt and headed for the door. The location was deserted except for a black SUV parked at the entrance.
The sun’s brightness left him blinded when he entered the dimly lit warehouse. Immediately he was flanked on both sides; his gun slipped into his hand.
“Put it away, Morrow.” He heard Iscar’s voice. “You would already be dead if that was our intention.”
“Who are these guys?” Frank’s knuckles clenched as his vision focused. He hated surprises.
“Gabriel and Gideon are part of the team.” Their nod to Frank was barely perceptible; they stepped away from Frank and moved to Iscar’s side.
“Don’t you think you should have asked me before you involved anyone else?”
“Don’t be foolish. You’re not in charge here.” Iscar’s voice was ice cold.
Frank joined them at a small table under a hanging light focused over a map. He lit a cigarette and exhaled, not caring where the smoke drifted. “You’re in the United States, here. In the United States, we do things my way.”
He never saw or heard either of them move, but his arms were pinned and his head hit the table top with a force that nearly broke
his nose.
“You can be helpful here,” Iscar warned, “or you can be a liability. I suggest you change your attitude before my associates are offended.”
Frank managed to nod his head and the associates again became shadows standing behind Iscar. He used his sleeve to wipe the bloody smudge from his nose and took a better look at Iscar’s associates. Lean, alert, and alike; they must be twins. The black flightsuits had a chevron on their sleeve he’d never seen before. Frank looked for something, a tattoo or pin, that might reveal where they’d received their training, but saw nothing else. Still, in the future, he vowed to be better prepared for their bi-polar temperament.
“We’ve tracked the Aurora to an area around this breech.” Iscar brought up a map on a computer screen from the tabletop and pointed to a northern section of the canyon.
“They probably used it as a channel to take them somewhere else,” Frank warned them. “We’ll have to track them through every fork.”
Iscar ignored him. “Is everything in place?”
“As you instructed, Septorian.” The associate answered in a low voice. Frank was unsure which was who.
“We’ve confirmed the exit of two windrunners a few nights ago. Reider and Pierzon,” the other one added. “They picked up a hoverjet from a cavern on the North Ridge.”
Frank strayed away from the table to inventory the items stocked on the shelves of the warehouse. There was a year’s supply of food and water, and first-aide supplies. “For someone who only wanted to see the Aurora launch, you’re certainly well prepared to find it.” There were enough climbing ropes, clamps and rigs to bridge the canyon end to end.