* * *
Piesetsk Cosmodrone, Russia
Fifty Russian Defense Fighters stood polished and menacing. They had a look of poised potential, eager for action and with that thought in mind and the inspection complete, Major General Lebedev made his way happily to the meeting room.
It was disappointing that only three of the ten expected RDB bombers would be ready, however he felt certain that the three completed would prove enough for the task. Apart from the odd manufacturing hitch everything had progressed well and in particular the trial RDB flight had proved an unqualified success. It showed outstanding performance that exceeded all his expectations. If that trial flight gave any indication of the smaller RDFs performance this would be a bloodless takeover, of that he was sure. They would arrive so fast and so well armed there would be no time for resistance.
Entering the large room he could sense the excitement in the room, the air seeming to crackle with positive tension, all the flight crew anticipating their break after four months restricted to the compound. Long training sessions six days per week had left them mentally drained, and they were well overdue for the three day rest they were about to enjoy. It had come just in time for some, with even the best close to breaking under the strain. Today he would stir them; prepare them for the mission to come. Then he would release them to party, enjoying the finest produce of the Russian Federation already spread out for them in the mess. Two days of fun, one day to recover, one day to brief and prepare. Then on the fifth day we will attack. Lebedev paused just inside the door, his eyes scanning the eager group.
Only five more days my young friends . . . and then it will be death or glory.
Lebedev strode to the rostrum to applause, the fifty nine successful pilots standing to welcome him. It had been a difficult process eliminating deadwood, so high was the standard of the original group. These remaining stars appreciated their selection and the opportunity it presented.
There would be no navigators for this mission with the second seat of each RDF reserved for a Special Forces soldier. The SF were being trained for space warfare at another secret location and would be introduced to the flight team in four days, just before departure.
The assembled pilots began rattling chairs and chanting as they let out tension, the sound soon building to a euphoric crescendo.
Lebedev waited at the rostrum until the sound diminished to nothing. The room became deathly quiet and still he waited.
"Comrades . . ." He started slowly, "I congratulate you on your skill and your courage. In five days you will be heroes who will put right a grave wrong. You . . . you, will lead our great nation into space and reestablish the balance of power needed for the good of the world. Without you the greedy and avaricious will triumph. Your efforts will make the difference. You have worked hard. You are the best of the best. Now comrades, rest, you have three days then the work begins again. But this time when we work, we will also win."
* * *
The Behemoth, off Hillary Station
Rod was proved wrong in both of his main assumptions. First, Jared was going with Regan to Gliese, much to the consternation of Kevin and Mary. Regan would not give ground on the matter. He goes with me!
In Regan's view it was simple, there could be no safer place for Jared in the galaxy than on the STEIN Traveler. As the STEIN was going to Gliese hidden in the belly of the Behemoth then so would he, end of story. The compromise she agreed to was that Jean would go too, much to her delight and Regan's consternation. Not that Jean cramped anyone's style, it just felt strange.
Rod's second assumption was that naturally Regan would go and in this he was correct. However, unknown to anyone she would also stay at the station in the form of her first significant copy. That fact would be known only to Hilary and Ham, with the three of them continuing to run the Orbital together, overseeing its ongoing construction and ensuring its well being. The plan was simple. Hilary would administrate as usual, Ham and Regan would lead the defense should any be required and they would continue to work with the new EFDF development.
On the Behemoth another Hilary, Ham and of course the bodily Regan would travel to Gliese 667, liberate Dahlia Orbital, reinstate Dahlia/Hilary as the Orbital Mind, return Sindali to power and rescue the no doubt screamingly bored Ham. Oh, and somewhere in all of that Marin would kill his mother . . . simple.
Regan roamed the lower decks as the Behemoth nudged away from Hillary Station. Jared jogged across the flight deck toward the STEIN which made an imposing presence even without the Saucer which had been left behind. Reluctantly Kevin had accepted Regan's offer of the Saucer even though by implication it signaled she foresaw a significant threat. He considered himself capable but was under no illusion why the Saucer remained. If it came to the crunch it would be there to rescue the children. In any Code Red, Ham would snatch them to the Saucer and they would 'go far and go fast'.
The STEIN now sat on the Behemoth flight deck like a partially deflated ball. Sad as it seemed in its reduced form, it still filled up one corner of the deck and radiated strength. The STEIN Traveler was her fortress and she had no doubt if the need arose Ham could break them out, even from the belly of the Behemoth. Surrounding the STEIN were two flights of ten ADFs with another three on the opposite deck. Fifty in total, they would all be piloted by Ham if required. The remaining available space was taken up with the two Coran bombers, one parked on either side to complete the squadron.
The bombers would only be used to hold the one hundred Behemoth crew members who wished to return home, including the worst of the trouble makers. Once in the region of Gliese 667 they would be crammed, fifty to a bomber, and left out of the system under Ham's charge until the mission was complete. They had been told clearly; make trouble and trouble will find you - in the form of vacuum.
Jared with his normal boundless energy darted between ADFs working his way down the deck. Too late she realized his objective; he was making for the field screen. Before she could call out he made his final sprint finishing with a leap at the blue shimmer. The cry caught in her throat as the boy simply sank into the blue as if it were a stretched blanket and plopped back to the floor of the deck.
Laughing he jogged back to her, still practicing the odd sidestep around invisible obstacles.
"Jared, why did you do that?" She gestured at the field. "You could have been killed."
He looked back, surprised. "I've done it before . . . Mom you know Ham wouldn't let anything happen to me, he's got my back."
She just looked at him. "That's not something to take advantage of, you should think before you do things like that."
He held up his hands in confusion. "How can it be taking advantage when he's always there, we were just playing?" He seemed to consider something for a moment "I don't think about breathing either, is that taking advantage?"
She chewed a lip, thinking what to say. He sees Ham being there like having air to breathe. Dear god, how do I argue with that?
Regan held out one hand to him. "You and I need to talk, it's good that you have Ham with you but you need to be prepared to stand on your own, he might not always be available to help."
"I know that Mom; I know when he's there and when he's not. He's been training me, I'm his apprentice." He seemed quite happy at the thought.
"Uh-huh, and what type of apprentice are you?" She led him off the decks and into the lift, pressing for the next lower level.
"He said I'm an apprentice at everything but I could choose a specialty."
"Interesting, and what did you choose as your specialty?"
Jared stepped in front of her and took both her hands, his serious little old man pose. Making close eye contact, his eyes wide with excitement, he cried out the answer, "I said assassin! Aaand . . . Ham said yes!"
[Regan . . .] Ham burst in to her thoughts before she could speak. [Before you say anything, this is just a game ok . . . with undeniable useful applications later, nothing more.]
[Later? He's
only five!]
[Look, there's been no harm done and it was his choice; it's important to encourage free expression with children.]
[Ham, parents talk about this sort of thing, or they should. We should have talked about it.]
A long silence followed before Ham replied, [I'm sorry . . . what did you say?]
[You should have talked to me about it.]
[No, the other thing.]
[Parents should talk about things like this?]
[Yes . . . of course . . . I am sooo not a parent . . . you think of me as a parent?]
[Naturally, Jared does too.]
[But what about Marin?]
[Uncle.]
[Kevin?]
[Uncle.]
[Oh . . but . . . but I'm, nefarious, incorrigible, a rebel!]
[Every father was a rebel once Ham, there comes a time to grow up. Look . . . don't drop the rebel, he loves it. But I'd like you to be careful with him, ok? He takes everything you say as gospel.]
[A father . . . I'm overwhelmed . . . really? I'm not sure I'm ready for this sort of responsibility.]
[Oh come on,] she was dismissive, [it's a bit late for that now, we both know you've been a way better father figure than I've been a mother. You're doing fine and thank you by the way.]
[No . . . no really . . . thank you]
Jared was standing in the lift entrance looking at her strangely. She stepped through the doors, "Sorry babe, just talking to Ham," She ruffled his hair as she passed, much to his annoyance, and continued on toward the mess where the Coran one hundred were gathered waiting.
Ham unlocked the door and she entered without hesitation, a hush settling instantly around the room. They had clearly been warned against aggression and most shuffled back to give her space.
Despite the warnings it happened quickly; Officer Cora was nearest as they entered and saw the boy. Reaching out one long arm he grabbed Jared by the hair, hauling the boy toward him and securing his head with both hands, clearly positioning to twist.
Regan cursed and desperately put up one hand, "Cora . . . stop! Don't do it!"
He looked panicked. It was a split second decision to grab the boy and he was already regretting it. The collective intake of breath from crew around him was clearly audible and those nearest stepped away quickly, no one wanting to be associated with his action.
"Don't come near!" he blurted. "Give me back my ship." He sounded less than convincing but was committed now.
Jared's back was to Regan but she could see his arms moving subtly between himself and the Coran. With alarm she noticed one of his hands was already stretching down slightly to the right, in it the shaft of the sports slingshot. She guessed immediately that in the other hand he held the end of the rubber cord and it was too late to call to him. The right hand continued to stretch the handle down and she closed her eyes cringing at the realization of what was about to happen. With a 'twang' Jared pulled the left hand to the side and released the right, firing the metal rod up into the Coran's crotch.
Cora's "Oomph!" could be heard around the room. Reaching desperately for the injured area he sank to his knees, only to be jabbed hard in the left eye, a thrust with the metal end of the slingshot, and he curled up in a whimpering ball.
"Right then," Regan stepped forward and kicked Cora rather redundantly in the head, connecting with a dull thud, and jerking the head back at the impact.
"Listen up, all of you. I've had enough of this so this is the way it's going to be. I've been nothing but generous to you up to this point. I was going to offer you extra privileges today," she looked pointedly at Cora, "but this is how you treat us. For the duration of the journey you will be confined to this mess and the bunkrooms on this level. They sleep twenty at a time so you will have to work out your own shifts. I should space the lot of you, you deserve it, but that is not my way. I will return you to your home as I promised. But if I have any more trouble, from anyone, all promises are off. Understood?"
There were nervous nods around the room. Regan took one last look at Cora then took Jared's hand and they left the room. They were silent to the end of the section, the solid door shutting behind them with a resounding thud. She then lifted Jared and spun him around in delight . . . "You little beauty!" She yelled for anyone to hear. No other words were necessary.
Returning to Control they wandered in like conquering heroes, Jared especially pleased with his slingshot and its proven versatility.
Marin held the floor as they entered; he was talking the assembled group through a travelogue of Dahlia and the Orbital system. Jean, Leah, and Aaron peppered the presentation with questions and the few assembled Coran converts continued about their business.
[How's the subbing going babe?]
[Getting there.] Leah turned and smiled. [I've been talking to the Corans too, and it works, it's amazing.]
[Told you it was good. How are you feeling?]
Leah didn't need to reply, she just smiled.
Regan looked up at the screen. "Sorry to be the party pooper, but do you mind if we watch the departure?"
Ham immediately switched the screen view to Hillary Station, already a distant image. The Moon and Earth could be seen in the periphery of the picture and everyone drifted into a melancholy mood as home rapidly dwindled from the screen.
Then Ham switched the view forward to the beautiful starscape and the mood change was startling, as if they were leaving on holiday, not heading into potential battle.
Oh lord, let it be so.
* * *
Hillary Station
Floating just off the earthward pipe end Regan, the gracious Hilary and Ham sat together in leather armchairs watching the departing vessel. It was as if they were suspended there in space, invisible to the pipe and the parade of vessels also beginning or ending their journeys.
"How does it feel to you?" Regan asked, "Sitting here and being there on the ship at the same time?"
Hilary looked at her strangely, "Well, how does it feel to you?"
Regan thought for a moment. "I'm not really aware of it. I've only done this a few times and this will be the big one. I don't usually connect with my other when I split, it's like another me is over there and I'm watching her, a true out of body experience. The few times I've done it I only updated later, not continually, I don't think I could cope with that."
"Well," Hilary replied, "It's pretty much like that. With practice you'll get better at being in many places at once and only updating in rapid bursts, however in my case, and I can't speak for Ham; I'm just doing it all at the same time."
"Many places you say . . . how many is many?"
"Hmm, well, at the moment I'm monitoring every space and system on Hillary Station and the Hillary Step, I'm operating flight control, forwarding calls, holding on average seven hundred odd conversations." She leant forward conspiratorially and laughed. "Some of the conversations are very odd, truly, I could go on and on." She waved her hand down comically and laughed at some private joke.
"And she can go on, believe me." Ham interrupted, "Stop encouraging her with questions Regan." He smiled disarmingly at Hilary. "Look, we're leaving." He pointed into the distance and together they zoomed in, the Behemoth appearing to reverse nearer although she knew the ship was already accelerating for the outer system.
"How long will it take them Ham?"
"I'll be taking the new lines Marin and I used when we returned here last. That means only two lines, two waves. With the changes Aaron has made to the drive they'll only be a month in transit." He turned to look at her, "You know what that means don't you?"
"It means that they'll be having all sorts of crazy sex without me?" She looked wistful.
Ham sighed and shook his head in disbelief, "You're consistent Regan, I'll give you that. No, it means that on the path they're taking they'll have no way of knowing if someone is coming our way using the old lines. In other words they won't know until they get to Dahlia whether Beria has already sent follow up war
ships here. What it means, dear Regan, is that we're on our own until they get back."
"We'll be fine." Regan said confidently, "Things are quiet here, we can keep our eyes open and we've got the strategies to deal with any trouble." She shifted position to look at him, "Ham, silly question, but what happened to Bob?"
"He's gone - that's all I can tell you, he's not with the ship and he's not here. Whatever he came to find out he obviously found; not that I care."
"Did Aaron discover anything?" She looked hopeful.
"Nope, but if it's any consolation Bob said to say thank you and that's the last we saw of him."
"I can't help feeling that's not the end of it. A Mind turns up from who knows where and we find out we're being watched - why? That's what I want to know." She stood and stretched.
"I'm going to do a tour of the Station, you two have fun."
* * *
Majors Rod Harmon and Minjee Chow climbed into their EFDF on the flight deck of Hillary Step. Glancing across to the United States base he could see the American flight of fifty ADF drones parked there and Rod screwed up his mouth in concern. Good as their remote pilots were they would need a lot more work to get up to speed if combat eventuated. To Rod it was frustrating; the solution was obvious, use Ham.
"Why are they so damn stubborn?" He muttered under his breath.
"I can understand it, even if I don't agree." Minjee responded, much more conciliatory.
"Help me out here; all I can see is their vulnerability."
"Well, think about it. They're already coming to grips with accepting Hilary running everything on the Step. Handing over piloting to Ham as well? They've paid for the fighters and I guess it must feel a bit like handing us the money then giving back control. Understandably they want to run their own ships."
Confluence Point Page 9