Martin should have left for Mars, at the end of his vacation, one-and-a-half days previously. As a no-show on the liner, his fare would now be forfeit. He had no idea how he would get the money together to get back, nor how he would explain his extended absence to his superiors. Would he even have a job? Fifteen minutes went by. Both his messages would now be under scrutiny by their recipients. Then thirty minutes. Forty-five minutes. No response. Then, finally: “Martin, this is Kirsti. Even if it were technologically feasible, the Mars Science Foundation is not a police force. Kato and Zara freed themselves voluntarily from our care, and as interplanetary citizens, they are responsible for their own protection and wellbeing. Our resources absolutely cannot be used in this situation. I hope you understand. Kirsti.”
“Grrrr!” Martin ground his teeth. “Damn battleaxe!” Kirsti may have been scientifically brilliant, but she had no soul. Good thing, then, that he had also initiated plan B. Please, Lana. You’re our only hope.
“Martin, this is Lana. I can’t believe this situation. I honestly don’t think there’s much we can do without Kirsti’s approval though. Have you heard back from her yet?”
Martin closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Oh crap. Now what were they going to do? “Lana, I heard back. No go from her.” He sent the message without bothering to sign off with his name. Martin closed his eyes. Was nobody at all willing to help?
The stars wheeled by in his mind for a while more. What practical steps could they take, right now, that would at least take Kato’s mind off things and create the illusion of progress? Right then, the illusion would have been almost as important as actual progress. It would work wonders psychologically and help both of them, particularly Kato, stay sane while awaiting the inevitable arrival of the X-37-B at Ceres. Martin got up from his bed and paced the floor. What would at least feel useful? Traveling somewhere? If so, where? Maybe somewhere where Kato had more people that could support him… Mars! Of course! Martin walked back into the bathroom and locked the door.
“Message to Philip Gansevoort. Philip, we haven’t spoken yet. I’m Martin Swiercynski, Chief Propulsion Engineer from the Clarke Academy. I’m with Kato right now. We can rescue Zara—but only if we can get to Mars in record time. There are only five days left for any rescue mission to succeed, so regular space liners are out. We need your ship’s power. It’s the only one that will work. We’re not asking you to chase down her abductors this time, just to get us to Mars. Please help. Martin. Buzz, send message.” One tiny omission, Martin thought: there was no rescue plan, and going to Mars was just busy work. Martin sat, feeling alone and useless on the commode. He buried his face in his palms. At least he’d tried. She was many millions of kilometers away, and traveling so fast. All alone. Such a beautiful girl. She seemed so spunky and alive. What inner resources she must have had in order to pull off the hijack of Dawn. She was beautiful on the inside too. What a waste, what a loss to mankind if she were to disappear. And poor Kato…
Martin exited the bathroom and flopped down on the bed as the manmade glow from outside played across the walls. He promptly fell asleep. “Incoming call from Philip Gansevoort,” Martin dreamt. No, it couldn’t possibly be. The message repeated. The room came back into focus. Ah, yes, the dire situation. The announcement was heard a third time.
“This is Martin.”
“Martin, glad to make your auditory acquaintance,” said a strange Dutch-American accent. “Listen, when Kato called earlier, I had no idea there was a rescue plan underway. I deeply apologize if I offended him. Of course Gansevoort’s yours. She is, as you said, the fastest way to Mars.”
“Oh…”
“Get yourselves to the ETI as soon as possible. I can expedite the refilling of the ship’s water tanks and have her ready to go in six hours.” The room around Martin was now back in clear focus.
“Oh, uh… right. Okay. We’re in Tokyo. We’ll get the next shuttle.”
“Good man. Just follow the prompts when you get there. Only you two will be able to see them.”
“Right.”
Silence.
Hot damn!
“Kato!”
“Whaaa….. uuuh?” Kato yawned.
“Gansevoort’s giving us a ride to Mars! Come on, get your stuff and let’s go!”
Kato looked perplexed. “What’s being on Mars going to accomplish?”
“Um…” Think, man. Kato’s no fool. “It’s closer to the asteroid belt. That can only help.”
Kato shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. It beats sitting in this room waiting for nothing.” At that, Kato rose and gathered his few things, rubbing his red eyes as he did so. He tottered slightly as they both made for the door.
Kato and Martin floated, bleary eyed, into the plush, circular departure gate. Philip was waiting for them, hovering in the center, still in his trademark tuxedo. He extended a hand towards Martin. “Delighted to meet you,” Philip said. The face behind the accent. Martin shook his hand. “Preparations have already been made,” Philip continued, addressing both men. “You have two staterooms on the top floor. Your pilot, Felix Acardi, is already aboard. You can talk to him at any time, of course.”
Kato sighed. “Thank you,” he said to Philip. “Thank you so much. You don’t know what this means to me.”
“Yes, well…” Philip said uncertainly.
“If you’re worrying about loss of face with blowing off your sheikh passengers,” Martin said, “you needn’t. You’re playing a major part…” He trailed off. Martin then began to choose his words carefully. “Zara and Kato are the most famous people in history. You’ll be recognized for having helped at a crucial time.”
Philip nodded. “Kato, I just hope and pray she makes it back. She’s a most charming young lady. Irreplaceable.”
Kato sighed and nodded. “Yes. That she is.”
“I won’t be making the trip with you this time,” Philip said. “I’ve got pressing matters to attend to on Earth. Check your closets; you’ll find fresh clothes there. On me, of course.”
“Thanks again,” Kato said.
The dark blue uniformed steward guided them along the handrails and they proceeded into the gaping mouth of Gansevoort’s docking port. Martin really hoped it would be a while before Kato figured out it was a complete wild goose chase. They glided into the cushioned white leather heart of the ship, and were then directed to two adjacent staterooms. The steward helped Martin into his flight couch. It molded itself to his form, and two comfortably fitting straps automatically crossed his chest and waist. Martin’s stomach rose into his chest as he lay there, weightless. The steward had left the room, no doubt to help Kato, and Martin was now alone. He looked around at the plush décor of the spacious stateroom. Was this really a spaceship? So this was how the other half lived. One gravity all the way there, in an environment that was akin to a mansion. It sure beat a week in economy class! He would be arriving in the grandest style of any Clarke Academy employee in history. And all to watch with the rest of the world as the final few days of the hourglass that was Zara’s life ticked down to zero.
Chapter 29
Lana Kasun was Eastern European by descent, but she had been raised in America. Her mid back-length straight black hair flowed around her somewhat long face. She had a light tan complexion, and wore a turquoise suit with wide lapels and flared pants, over a white blouse, and had on high-heeled shoes. She stood in a large room that was glass on two opposing walls. It was an airlock into a clean room the size of a vast aircraft hangar. In the center stood Interplanetary Interstellar Explorer, resplendent in its silver, almost iridescent glory. The ship was a thick oval, as large as a football field. The underside of IIX looked as though it had been sucked upwards from within, creating a huge concave mirror. The top had a corresponding bulge. The giant room was lit from above by many rows of harsh fluorescent lights. They reflected from IIX’s hull in eccentric curved lines, like the longitude lines on a globe.
Lana liked to step out of her office a
nd just look at the ship. She admired IIX’s alien appearance. The invention, work, and technology that had gone into building her gave Lana goose bumps. It was hard to believe the craft had actually been to another star. What Lana would not have given to have actually ridden in IIX’s warp bubble outside of spacetime to reach that distant place. The edges of the hull, from Lana’s viewpoint on the ground, reflected the dark walls. This made it hard to trace the ship’s outline. IIX was held aloft by ten large steel pistons with rubber pads at the ends, as she had no landing gear. A large square hole in the underside of the craft was where the work to overhaul the zero-point source was taking place. Scissor lifts and parts, including half-molten ablators, lay on the ground.
The huge clean room was situated on the inside of a constantly spinning wheel, 800 meters wide, whose rotation provided artificial gravity. Looking up, Lana could see other engineering areas and laboratories stretching upwards, also stuck to the inner surface wheel, finally meeting at the top directly above her head. The entire Space Engineering Facility was bolted onto the Mars-facing side of the planet’s moon Phobos, which had almost no gravity of its own. When IIX next departed, the roof of the clean room would retract. She would be hoisted by steel cables up to the airlock, in the center of the wheel. Doors would open to admit her. Once inside, she would be free to float, no longer held down by centrifugal force or suspended from the cables. The lock would then depressurize, and a giant iris door would open, allowing IIX out into space.
The clean room was nearly empty of people, as the engineers had gone home. (Home was another identical wheel a few hundred meters away, which provided living quarters for a few thousand people.) It was 8 PM on a Friday evening, Mars Standard Time. Lana had stayed late. Today, Lana was not just here to muse over interstellar travel. She had received the mother of all cries for help a few hours ago, from a man she knew well: Martin Swiercynski. Lana was ashen-faced as she looked up at the otherworldly ship. She closed her eyes. To try and rescue Zara, probably without Kirsti’s blessing, or not to try? First things first; would it even be possible to get IIX ready to fly again so quickly? If the ablator blocks were here, it might just have been possible, with enough people to help… But how could Zara actually be rescued, even if IIX could rendezvous with her ship? Breathe, she told herself. Focus. What would Mama have done? No-brainer. She’d have tried the rescue, even at great cost to herself. Speaking of cost, Lana would be fired for insubordination if this were even attempted… But… how to get ablator blocks? What was the risk of destroying IIX by making a mistake in the hurry to get her flying? What if Martin was wrong, and Zara was not even heading to Ceres? There was one person she could call: her friend and direct report Arvid Steele, the project manager.
“Hey, Arvid,” Lana said.
“Heyyyy, Lana!” came the slightly Norwegian accent.
“Sorry to disturb you at this late hour, on a Friday night…”
“No problem. Everything okay?”
“Well...” Lana went on to explain about Zara’s disappearance and Martin’s plea for help on Kato’s behalf. The line went silent. “What do you think?” Lana asked.
“There’s a lot to think about. And doing it without Kirsti’s approval… that scares me silly. Not sure how we’ll keep her in the dark. Plus, I highly doubt MX9 will suddenly deliver our ablators, especially on a weekend,” Arvid fumed. “I cannot believe the lack of service and communication from them.” After a long moment, he said: “We could steal the ablators.”
“What?”
“We could fly one of the cargo ships down and just take them. Assuming they have the right size lying around, that is. MX9’s depot is a hundred kilometers north of Marineris.”
A guttural “Uh…” was all Lana could manage to get out. Her vision blurred. Was Arvid really suggesting this? Breathe. “So… you’re actually saying that the MSF should just help ourselves to something that’s not ours to take?”
After a few seconds pause, Arvid replied: “Basically, yes. It’s not without its downsides of course…”
Lana sputtered. “Damn right it’s not! Even if we did manage to pull this thing off, the MSF’s reputation would be forever tarnished. I won’t allow it.” Had she really just completely ruled out any chance of pulling off the rescue?
“Well, what if there was a patsy?” Arvid said. “A fall guy to take the blame and be publicly expunged from the organization, along with all traces of scandal?”
“Who were you thinking of using for this?”
“Me.”
Stunned silence.
At last, Lana spoke. “If you’re willing to sacrifice your career, and quite likely your freedom, for this, then I’m willing to do it. Get a crew together, and meet me at Spaceport A. Onondaga’s docked there, so take her. While you’re doing that, I’ll have to try and round up another few hundred people to work on IIX. But, there’s precious little time. I spent too long procrastinating. Go. Do what you have to. Godspeed.”
“Will do. Arvid out.” Lana breathed in deeply, and exhaled slowly through puckered lips. She looked up at IIX again. She would fly again sooner than anybody thought. A lot of lives would change tonight—assuming they could rope in enough crazy volunteers. For the better or for the worse? Hardly for the better. Until one counted Zara into the equation. It was impossible to even make a guess as to how it would all turn out.
In the half hour that Gansevoort had been accelerating, she had traveled far enough that Philip and Martin could easily see right across Earth from one side to the other. The one G flight felt very comfortable. Kato twisted around in his flight seat, it remolded itself to his side-on body shape as he did so, and looked over his left shoulder. The floor of his cabin had dissolved away, to show the view outside as clearly as though it were unobstructed. The North Pole was a strange shape, he thought. The ice shelf kind of jutted out over the north Atlantic, and then swept back to reveal a vast area of open sea above Newfoundland. So, the environmentalist scaremongers of the 21st century were wrong. Even with all that had happened in 200-plus years, it was still pretty much the same.
Kato’s eyelids began to droop. Maybe sleep would relieve the sickness he felt? Or at least numb it for a while. Or not. Kato rolled over to his right side, struggling awkwardly under the straps fastened around him. The smart material didn’t quite adjust to his body’s movement fast enough. The wall to Kato’s right was clear, and he could see Martin next door. He was also still awake. “Martin?”
“Yes sir?” Martin rolled onto his left side, facing Kato, with similar awkwardness.
“How long was our flight time supposed to be?”
“Fifty-five hours.”
“Hmm. Okay. Wait…” Kato blinked a few times. “You know what?”
“What?”
“Mars and Ceres are in opposition at the moment! So, going to Mars is only going to put us further away from Ceres!”
A pause from the next room, and then a groan.
“So, is there really any point in going to Mars?” Kato asked.
“Um… well…” came the red-faced reply. After a short pause, Martin said: “Emotional support, maybe?”
“Well… I guess so… I know more people on Mars than on Earth. Life seems simpler there, somehow, enclosed in a ten-by-ten kilometer box… less political tidal forces, a pretty uniform level of technology and affluence…”
“Yeah.”
Kato looked off into the distance, past Martin. “This whole thing is my fault,” he said.
“What?”
“Zara’s abduction. Seung Yi even being here in the 24th century.”
“How so?”
“If it weren’t for my predicament, Zara would never have come to save me, and she wouldn’t even be alive now. Plus, I created the monster in the first place.”
“Whoa! Slow down! Did you ask Zara to come and save you?”
“No.”
“Did she run it by you first?” Martin asked.
“Of course not! She knew I�
��d have disapproved of every aspect of what she did.”
“There you go, then. She was, and is, a grown woman, and she made her own decision. Let’s face it, how likely is you guys’ even being recovered, never mind alive and well?”
“About a chance in a billion.”
“Exactly. No way you could have known. And as for creating the monster, how do you figure?”
“I employed Seung Yi, knowing what type of person he was, and knowing he had stolen IP that he was bringing to the table. Therefore I, by extension, stole it.” Kato sighed. “Karma was a bitch. I had no idea just how big of a bitch it was going to be, and that was just in the 21st and 22nd centuries!”
“Call from Akio Nishimura,” Kato heard in his earpiece.
“Answer.”
“Kato-san!” came the excited greeting.
“Hi Akio.”
“I’ve been exonerated!”
“Oh… uh… great!”
“Yeah! They dumped my memory, and…”
“Whoa! They can read your memory?!” Kato sputtered.
Akio’s speech slowed to a more conversational speed and tone. “Oh.. uh… let me explain. Enhanced memory is an option for implanted individuals. I got it. It digitally records everything you ever see, hear, feel, and so on. Well, if you’re accused of a crime, you can authorize them to download your memory. People don’t do it very often, because it lets people see your most intimate moments… but it’s a way to clear your name, as a last resort.”
Kato was quiet for half a minute. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Akio-san.”
“No, no, it’s completely understandable. I would have too, if I were in your situation.”
Kato's War: Book Two of the Kato's War series Page 14