She looked around the eastern side of Denver, wide-eyed in anticipation. It was already getting dark, but the ash-filled sky gave everything a reddish-pink hue that seemed to promise magical days ahead. She did not know where she was going, but she could not imagine it could be anything but wonderful.
Shouldering her backpack, she walked westerly, in the direction of the mountains barely visible beyond. She was suddenly aware of her heart beating… but this time it was beating strongly and evenly… with excitement. The first day of her real life would start now. Now. She could hardly wait.
~
When Roy returned to the Makalu, about an hour after he and the General had gone through the cargo paperwork, the first thing he saw was Goldie and Hunter outside the ship, keeping an eye on the various service personnel roaming over the exterior of the freighter. “Everything look okay out here?”
Hunter turned when he heard Roy’s voice. “Well, everything looks kosher,” he said. “But we aren’t exactly freighter experts, you know?”
“I’ll come back and give everything a check myself,” Roy told them. “I’ll be staying aboard tonight. The General’s offered sleeping quarters for anyone who’s interested.”
“Our orders,” Goldie stated, “are to stay with the Makalu. So we’ll pass.”
“I appreciate that,” Roy said. “Catch you later, then,” he said as he headed up the ramp and into the ship.
Inside, he found a number of people disassembling and removing the last of the makeshift seating that had been installed on the freighter. The bays that had formerly held the seats would be filled in the morning with needed supplies, going back to Verdant. Most of the people removing the seats had U.S. multiforces uniforms on… the rest wore one-piece service coveralls. Roy ambled towards the engine bays, and found most of Dr. Silver’s staff, and his own crew, milling around back there. “What’s going on?”
Valeria Epstein was the first to respond. “We’re just keeping an eye on things around here… making sure no one tries to sneak in and get a peek.”
“Well, all of you don’t need to do that!” Roy pointed out. Then he looked to his own crew. “And what about you guys?”
One of his crewmen, a young man everyone called Spring, stepped forward. “We’ve gone over the ship, and haven’t found any problems caused by the ash layers. Henti and Blake are still checking the engines, but Blake said everything’ll be ready to go in the morning.”
“Good,” Roy said. “The General has set aside sleeping quarters for anyone who wants ‘em, but I’m staying here, and I need a few people to stick around and keep watch with me. I want the rest of you to go and get a good night’s sleep.” He turned to Valeria. “Val, if you can spare just two of your people, to make sure someone can trigger the bay if it gets compromised?”
“Sure,” Valeria said. “I’ll stay, and…” She turned to the others, and after a moment, one of the techs raised his hand. “Okay, me and Lonnie.”
“I’ll stay,” said Spring.
“Okay, fine,” Roy said. “Everyone else, hit the dirt and go get some rest. Find Haylee and take her with you. Busy day tomorrow. Go, go,” he urged them with friendly waves of his arms.
Slowly, the crowd filed out of the bay, headed for the crew airlock, and trundled down the ramp to the outside. The many soldiers, Hunter and Goldie, and the service crews crawling over the freighter, silently watched them depart and head for the hangar, a few of them asking for the whereabouts of their quarters.
~
Shay looked up when the door to the Presidential suite opened. She expected to see the intern she had asked to bring her something to drink. Instead, she immediately recognized Gaston Lambert, walking in with a tray balanced in his hands. On the tray rested a bottle, and two wine glasses.
“I hope this will do for a drink,” he said lightly as she stood up to meet him. Shay met him halfway, took the tray from him, and placed it down on a nearby table. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.
When she pulled back, she said, “Anything from you is perfect, Gaston.” Then she stepped back, and reached for the glasses, as he reached for the bottle. She still had on the pants suit she had worn on the flight, but she had removed the jacket and opened the shirt almost to her navel, effectively exposing the swell and cleavage of her breasts and smooth, taut abdomen. As Lambert worked off the cork, she said, “Are your meetings over for the day, then?”
“Yes, I think so,” Lambert replied, a second before the cork popped off in his hand. He poured the sparkling liquid first in one glass, then the other. “There’s nothing more I can do tonight.”
Shay read the meaningful tone of his voice. “Is that a good thing?”
Lambert glanced at her. “We’ve set some things in motion. If we’re very, very lucky…” he paused, long enough to accept the glass from Shay and take a sip from it “…we may find ourselves retiring to Verdant yet.”
For a moment, Shay’s mouth fell open in wonder. Then she smiled and, raising her glass, tapped it against his in salute.
~
It was very early in the morning… or late at night, depending on your point of view. For most of the crew of the Makalu, it was past the end of a long day, and most of them were gone, or asleep. Crews had been loading the Makalu well into the night, as well as refueling it for the trip back to Verdant. The refueling had been finished hours ago, during Hunter’s shift, and the last of the cargo crews had left the ship over an hour ago. Roy Grand had personally checked each and every crate that had been brought aboard, before he’d awakened Spring and turned in himself for the next few hours.
At that particular moment, only Goldie Maina, Valeria Epstein and Spring were awake, with Hunter Reilly, Roy and Lonnie sleeping through their rest shifts. Blake and Henti, Roy’s men who had been working on the engines in the aft bay, were both asleep in hammocks they had hanging in the engine room for just such an occasion. Only Goldie was outside the ship, and Valeria and Spring were lightly conversing about nothing in particular in the bay adjacent to the crew airlock.
Most of the service crews had left the Makalu hours ago, but one team had reported a damaged sensor pod on the starboard forward side of the ship. They had been working to repair the damage all night, using parts from a spare pod that had been driven out from a nearby supplier. As the two men worked, using a small tractor to support the pod at its intended location on the hull, nine meters from the ground, Goldie walked about the ship, regularly stopping to watch them work. The two men largely ignored her, as they seemed to be having trouble with the replacement pod’s wiring, which was apparently not identical with the original pod’s wiring system. Goldie had asked them about it hours ago, and they explained that it was the process of figuring out which wires on the new pod corresponded to those on the old pod, that was adding hours to their work. Goldie had examined the pod, but had seen nothing that looked unusual about it. So she had let them work.
Presently, Goldie became aware of a noise she hadn’t heard before. She craned her head about, trying to localize the source of the noise, and after a moment, bent down and began crab-walking underneath the belly of the freighter. When she reached the port side, she looked up and saw a jet of grey steam emanating from a spot on the hull that didn’t look like it should be emanating anything.
Quickly she crab-walked back to the other side of the freighter, where the airlock ramp was. As she started up the ramp, one of the workers on the pod called out, “Everything okay?”
“Keep working there,” Goldie replied simply, and continued on into the freighter.
A few moments later, she came back out with Henti and Blake in tow, both grumbling about being awakened at such a godforsaken hour. They circled the ship until they were under the jet of escaping gas.
“Aw, shit,” Blake said, though he didn’t sound particularly upset, “it’s the port pod hydraulic line ruptured.”
“Yup,” Henti said, “lemme see if I can isolate it inside.�
� He dashed back around the ship.
Goldie looked at Blake. “What happens if he can’t isolate it from inside?”
“We’ll have to open up the hull to get at it,” Blake explained.
“Is that bad?”
“Not really,” Blake shook his head. “Just time consuming. Probably hold us up most of a day. Let’s see if Henti gets it from in there.”
They watched the escaping vapor for a few minutes, prompting Blake to take out his com and call out, “You having any luck, Henti?”
“Yeah, almost,” came Henti’s reply. “I can see it, but it’s a long reach… hold on… oh, hey, yeah, just… right there.”
Goldie and Blake exchanged glances. “Henti, what’re you doing?”
“Hold on, Spring’s here helping me. Wait… no, wait… now, now, pull it back.”
From outside, Goldie and Blake immediately noticed a lessening of the stream of vapor. As they watched, the jet became smaller, then smaller, then abruptly, stopped altogether.
“Yup. That got it,” Henti com’d out. “We’re good.”
“Great,” Blake said, and looked at Goldie. “Can I go back to sleep now?”
Goldie followed Blake back around to the starboard side of the ship, and watched as he trudged back up into the freighter. Crisis over, she slowly resumed her pacing around the ship, glancing up at the workers who were still installing the pod.
It had been almost a full ten minutes since she had laid eyes on them and their work.
36: Pre-flight
19Aug2229
Roy Grand was still asleep. He had left word to wake him at six A.M., but Spring had taken it upon himself to allow his Captain some extra shut-eye, and had intended to let him sleep until eight. However, a hand on his shoulder at seven brought him awake with a start.
“Uh!” Roy jerked upright, as if someone had punched him. Then he looked around bleary-eyed, and remembered where he was. He looked at Spring. “Everything okay?”
“You’ve got a com message,” Spring replied simply. “It’s Haylee.”
“Haylee?” Instead of asking questions, Roy pulled himself upright, rubbing out the stiffness in his body, and headed for the bridge. Along the way, he noted the time. “Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” Spring shrugged, and Roy, actually glad for the extra sleep, did not push the issue.
As he passed through the bays, threading around numerous crates and packages, he saw a number of people milling about around the remaining seats that had been left in the side bay. “Are all our passengers here?” Roy asked Spring.
“A few left, according to our manifest,” Spring said. “They’re supposed to be on their way.”
“Well, they better be here before I button up, or they’re waiting until Verdant gets back,” Roy stated as he stepped onto the bridge. At his command station, a red light was blinking over the com system, and Roy flipped the switch that opened the connection. “Haylee, it’s Roy.”
“Hi, boss,” Haylee’s voice replied. The connection was not good, a lot of noise on the line, but she was understandable. “I’ve got a problem. I just talked to my parents in Portland.”
“What’s wrong?”
“My dad was trying to shovel out from a layer of ash that was heavier than he expected, and he’s gone and jacked up his back again. He’s in the hospital, and Mom needs serious help fixing things up and cleaning out the ash all into everything—”
“Say no more,” Roy said at once. “If you need to go help your parents, go.”
“Boss, you know I don’t want to leave you hanging without a pilot like this…”
“Are you kidding? I know half a dozen pilots I could call that would jump at the chance to see Mars!” In fact, as he thought about it, one obvious candidate came to his mind immediately. “I’ll get a pilot. You go help your folks.”
“Thanks, boss. You’re the best!”
“Don’t sweat it,” Roy said. “Makalu, out.” He switched off the com, and considered the conversation, and his statement that he could find another pilot. “I hope,” he muttered to himself.
Then he put in a call to the first pilot he’d thought of.
~
Julian was alone in his office when Kris arrived, wearing for the first time the cream-colored shirt, green blazer and trousers of Verdant’s staff. Julian looked up, and smiled immediately. “The outfit suits you. Not that I imagine even a burlap sack could look bad on you.”
“Flatterer,” Kris smiled back as she approached his desk. “I’ve been monitoring what communications we can get from Earth from here.”
“Yes, so have I,” he said, gesturing for her to come around to his side of the desk. On his workstation, he had notes and transcripts set up in organized files about the desktop. “It seems official channels have switched to new low-power signals that don’t carry out here. But I’m seeing a lot from unofficial channels.”
Kris moved to the desk and leaned over to look. Even after the last few days, she was good at maintaining a professional distance and demeanor during working hours, even when they were alone. Julian found himself approving of her professionalism, even as much as he found himself more attracted to her each day.
“Yes, I saw much of the same things,” Kris nodded. “Of the people who even believe we left, most of them still seem to believe we should open ourselves up to as many refugees as we can stuff in here.”
“And that America,” Julian added, “is within its rights to take us over if we refuse. Nothing I’ve seen of official comments seems to challenge the idea, which suggests tacit approval to me.”
“I agree. Have you heard from the Makalu yet today?”
“The last message came in early this morning,” Julian replied. “Roy said the Americans were being cooperative, the supplies were loaded, and everything seems to match the manifests. He expected the passengers who asked to return to Verdant with him in the morning, their time. He was going to do another check of the ship while he has the crew check the cargo again, before they leave.”
“Which is when?”
“They are scheduled to leave Earth at sixteen hundred GMT. Roy’s under orders to call us at fifteen hundred to confirm his status… less than an hour from now.”
“Mm.” Kris nodded, stepped back around the desk, and sat down in a facing chair. “We talked last night about the possibility of the U.S. doing something underhanded. What are your thoughts now?”
Julian considered. “Honestly? All this seems to be going too smoothly. Yes, I think they’re up to something. But I don’t know how to figure out what. We’re kind of at a disadvantage, here.”
“Kind of?” Kris repeated, and arched a playful eyebrow at him.
Julian smiled at his own understatement. “I mean, we have no way to accurately verify anything going on at the other end of this supply chain. We’re practically blind, dependent on what weak com signals we can intercept. Roy and his crew could have been co-opted or coerced… Silver’s staff could have been compromised, even with the precautions we took… the supplies could somehow be tainted or tampered with… or they could simply try to keep the Makalu, and somehow try to figure out how the Verdant drive works. And even if it gets destroyed before they can do that, it doesn’t help us get the supplies we need.”
Kris nodded. Clearly, she had been thinking along the same lines. “We need to consider the possibility that, when the Makalu gets here… we may not want to permit them to enter Verdant.”
“Are you suggesting stranding them once they get here?” Julian asked.
“Not necessarily,” Kris said. “Remember, they can always jump back to Earth. But they can also do that after they do something to damage us.”
Julian shook his head. “But why would they do that? They want us back! Everything we’ve intercepted tells us that they want us back!”
“I agree,” Kris said. “But the means they choose to… encourage us to come back… may be heavy-handed.” She looked at Julian meaningfully. “And they could easi
ly get out of hand.”
After a pause, Julian said, “I see what you’re getting at. In case negotiations go awry.”
“Exactly.”
Julian reached for the com to CnC. “Reya, get Dr. Silver up here ASAP. And try to get ahold of Dr. Rios. We need to make some plans.”
~
At seven-thirty, President Lambert walked out of the residence wing of the High House. Enu Thompson stood waiting for him not far from the doors. “What’s our situation?” Lambert asked.
“As planned,” Thompson said. “The intel we got from Walter Gordon allowed us to get our package aboard the freighter last night. We have everything in-place, and Kline is ready to go. Any words of encouragement you want to pass on to him while he’s here?”
“No,” Lambert said. “Just tell him to bring that satellite back, and get him going.”
~
Just before eight, Roy was on the spine of the ship, examining the hull personally, when Spring stuck his head out of the spine airlock and called out, “Time, sir!”
Roy swiveled his head around to face his crewman. “Okay, I’m coming.” Then he turned back to the conduits he had been examining by hand a moment before. He gave one last pass with his hand over the seam, satisfied that it was well-sealed… he had to admit, the government service crew had done a great job cleaning up the Makalu after passing through the ash clouds. But he still wanted to make sure everything passed muster himself, before he took his ship back up there.
Finally, he stood up and returned to the spine airlock, climbed down into the freighter, and made his way to the bridge. Spring was waiting for him there, checking over the com equipment. Roy gave everything a look himself as he sat at his station.
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