Saturn gt-12

by Ben Bova

  “Not yet,” Kananga replied.

  “It’s been two weeks!”

  “This habitat is very large and I have only a limited number of people to search for her.”

  “I want her caught.”

  “She will be. I’ve staked out all the places where she can obtain food. We’ll find her sooner or later.”

  “Make certain she’s dead,” Vyborg said.

  Eberly frowned at that, thinking, They all professes to be Believers but they don’t even blink at the thought of murder. And they want to make me a party to their crimes. Then they’ll have an even stronger hold over me.

  Morgenthau wondered, “What if she surrenders herself in some public place? She might be clever enough to show up at the cafeteria at lunchtime and offer to turn herself in.”

  Eberly actually shuddered. “If she starts talking, everything we’ve worked for could be ruined.”

  “But she’s been neutralized,” Vyborg countered. “I’ve seen to it that everyone believes she’s a dangerous lunatic.”

  With a shake of his head, Eberly replied, “No matter what the people believe, if she decides to start blabbing in public it could upset the election. It could throw the election to Urbain. Or even Timoshenko.”

  “Tonight is the critical time, then,” Morgenthau said. “By this time tomorrow the election will be over.”

  “I want her found tonight.”

  “It would be good,” Vyborg said, almost in a whisper, “if she were found dead.”

  Kananga nodded. “I’ll put the entire security force on it.”

  “Has she any allies?” Eberly asked. “Any friends that she might turn to for help?”

  Vyborg said, “She phoned Dr. Cardenas.”

  “That was two weeks ago,” said Morgenthau.

  “And only once,” added Kananga. “It was too brief for us to catch her.”

  “Cardenas?” Eberly suddenly saw the way to catch Holly. “She phoned the nanotech expert?”

  “Yes.”

  Morgenthau saw the gleam in his eye. “Do you think …?”

  “A nanobug threat,” said Eberly. Turning to Vyborg, he commanded, “Put out the news that Holly might be harboring dangerous nanomachines. Make it sound as if she’s a threat to the entire habitat. A nanoplague! Then every person in the habitat will be on the lookout for her. Kananga, you’ll have ten thousand people searching for her!”

  The Rwandan laughed delightedly. Vyborg nodded and scampered to the desktop comm unit. As he began dictating a news bulletin, Eberly turned to Morgenthau.

  “So much for our fugitive. Now, what are the latest election predictions?”

  He expected her to give him a rosy forecast for the election. Instead, her smile faded and a cloud of doubt darkened her chubby face.

  “We may have created a Frankenstein monster in this engineer, Timoshenko,” Morgenthau said, turning toward the computer bank.

  She called up the latest projection, and a multicolored chart appeared against the bare office wall.

  “The blue represents our votes,” said Morgenthau, “the red is Urbain’s and the yellow is Timoshenko’s.”

  “We’re well ahead,” said Eberly.

  “Yes, but there’s a disturbing trend.” The chart shifted, colors melting or growing. “If Timoshenko’s people throw their support to Urbain, they could beat you.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  Morgenthau shrugged heavily. “I don’t know why, but it’s happening. Urbain has picked up nearly twenty percent of the voters who were solidly in Timoshenko’s camp only a few days ago.”

  “According to your analyses,” said Eberly.

  “Which are based on extensive polls by our volunteers out there.” She pointed toward the door. “I may be overly alarmist, but it might be possible for Urbain to pick up enough of Timoshenko’s votes to win tomorrow.”

  Eberly stared hard at the chart, as if he could force the numbers to change by sheer force of will. He kept his face immobile, trying to hide the anger and terror churning in his gut. I could lose! And then where would I be? They’ll take me back, put me back in prison!

  He barely heard Morgenthau’s voice. “Cancel the election. You’re deputy administrator now. Wilmot’s been neutralized. Cancel the election and set up the government on your own authority.”

  “And have three quarters of the population rebel against me?” Eberly snarled at her.

  “If they do,” said Kananga, “you’ll have the perfect excuse to establish martial law.”

  “Then we could control everyone,” Morgenthau agreed. “I had the blueprints for neural probes beamed here from Earth. Once martial law is established we could arrest the troublemakers and implant them with the neural controllers. It would be just what we want.”

  Except that the people would hate me, Eberly thought. They would scheme against me. They’d work night and day to overthrow me.

  “No,” he said flatly. “I can’t rule these people by force. Or by turning them into useless zombies.”

  “You wouldn’t need neural implants,” said Kananga, drawing himself up to his full height. “I could make certain that they obey you.”

  And make me dependent on you, Eberly answered silently. I want these people to respect me, to follow me out of admiration and respect. I want them to love me the way those volunteers outside love me.

  “No,” he repeated. “I must win this election legally. I want the people to elect me freely. Otherwise there will be nothing but turmoil and resistance to my rule.”

  Morgenthau looked genuinely alarmed. “But if the election goes against you? What then?”

  “It won’t go against me.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “The rally tonight. I’ll win them over. I’ll split Timoshenko’s supporters away from Urbain’s.”

  “How?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Despite the fear that constantly gnawed at her, Holly was almost enjoying her exile. It’s like camping out, she thought. Not that she could remember camping out from her first life, back on Earth. Yet she felt strangely free, unattached to anyone or any duties except what she felt like doing. There were plenty of unoccupied areas up topside in the habitat, she knew; two whole villages had been set aside for population growth. And when she got tired of prowling through the tunnels she could always climb up into the orchards or farms and sleep undisturbed on the soft, warm ground.

  As far as she could tell, no one was watching her, no one was tracking her. She had made that one call to Kris from the cafeteria’s storeroom, and sure enough, a squad of Kananga’s security goons had converged on the wall phone within minutes. Holly had watched them from the nearly shut trapdoor in the storeroom’s rear. Flatlanders, she thought. They haven’t tumbled to the idea that somebody could live beneath the ground, in the tunnels. And there’s a gazillion kilometers of tunnels down here, she told herself. I could stay for years and they’d never find me.

  But always the realization that Kananga had murdered Don Diego stuck in her memory like a cold knife. And Malcolm’s in on it, somehow. How and why she didn’t know, but she knew she couldn’t trust Malcolm or anyone else. Well, you can trust Kris, she thought. But that would bring trouble down on Kris’s head. They murdered Don Diego and Kananga tried to kill me. Would they try to murder Kris if they thought she was helping me? Flaming yes, she decided swiftly.

  As the days spun along, though, Holly realized she was accomplishing nothing. Kay, it’s fun hiding out in the tunnels and living off the farms and all that. But how long do you want to go on this way? You can’t let them get away with it, she told herself. And the election’s coming up. Once Malcolm’s elected chief of the habitat things’ll only get worse, not better.

  You’ve got to find some way to nail them, she kept thinking. Kananga and fat Morgenthau and the little snake Vyborg. Yes, and Malcolm, too. But how? You can’t do it by yourself. You need somebody … but who?

  At last it came to her.
Of course! Professor Wilmot. He’s in charge of everything. At least, until the election is over. Once I tell him what it’s all about, he’ll know what to do.

  Jeeps! she realized. The election’s tomorrow! I’ve got to visit the professor tonight.

  PLANNING SESSION

  Gaeta sat flanked by Kris Cardenas on one side and Fritz von Helmholtz on the other. Berkowitz sat on Fritz’s left. Nadia Wunderly stood before them, waving a laser pointer in one hand. We should’ve worn safety glasses, Gaeta thought. She’s gonna zap somebody’s eye with that thing if she’s not careful.

  Wunderly was practically bouncing with excitement.

  “Here’s the real-time position of the iceball,” she said, pointing at the computer display with the laser. “Right on track for capture.”

  Gaeta saw Saturn floating lazily in the dark infinity of space, its rings bright and splendid. A greenish oval marked the habitat’s current position, heading toward an orbit outside the rings. The tiny red dot of the laser pointer was on a speck of light that was farther from the planet than their own habitat.

  “And here’s what’s going to happen over the next four days,” Wunderly said.

  They saw the habitat moving slowly into orbit, as planned. The iceball swung past the planet and almost completely out of the picture, but then Saturn’s gravity pulled it back. The iceball skimmed past the rings once, went behind the planet, then swung around again and pulled in tighter.

  “Here we go,” Wunderly said breathlessly.

  The iceball entered the wide, bright B ring from the top, popped through to the other side, circled behind Saturn’s massive bulk once more. When it reappeared it was noticeably slower. Gaeta saw it settle into the B ring almost like a duck landing gently on a pond.

  “And that’s it,” Wunderly said, freezing the image. “Saturn acquires a new moon smack in the middle of the B ring. Nobody’s ever seen anything like this before.”

  Berkowitz breathed an awed, “Wow. Every network will carry the capture event.” Leaning past Fritz slightly, he said to Gaeta, “What a terrific setup for your gig!”

  Gaeta grinned at him.

  “How will it affect the rings?” Cardenas asked.

  Wunderly shrugged. “It’s too small to have any major effect. It’s only eight klicks across. Tiny, really.”

  “But it will jostle the particles that are already in the ring, will it not?” asked Fritz.

  She nodded. “Ay-yup, but it won’t affect the ring dynamics much. No changes in the Cassini division or anything like that. I’ve done the sims, the only strong effects will be very local.”

  “So that’s where we want to be when it happens,” said Gaeta.

  “No!” Wunderly and Cardenas said in unison.

  “It’s too dangerous,” Cardenas added.

  “I agree,” Wunderly said. “You should wait a day or two, give everything a chance to settle down.”

  “Won’t hurt to wait a little,” Berkowitz agreed. “But not more than a day or two. We want to go while people are still focused on Saturn and the rings.”

  Gaeta looked at Fritz, who was intently studying the three-dimensional image hanging before them.

  “What do you think, Fritz?”

  “It would be dangerous, but I think within our capabilities. The suit should hold up sufficiently. And it would give us spectacular foot-age.”

  Wunderly said, “I don’t think—”

  “Wouldn’t it be a help to you,” Gaeta interrupted her, “to get realtime footage of the capture from inside the ring itself?”

  “I can do that with a few remotes,” she said. “You don’t have to risk your neck for the sake of science.”

  “Still…”

  “No, Manny,” said Cardenas, quite firmly. “You do what Nadia tells you. Nobody wants to see you get killed over this. Waiting a day or two won’t make the stunt any less spectacular.”

  Fritz agreed with a glum, “I suppose they are right.”

  “You really want to wait?” Gaeta asked his chief technician.

  “No sense destroying the suit.”

  Gaeta grinned at him, then shrugged. Looking squarely at Cardenas, he said, “Okay, we’ll wait until the next day.”

  “Will that be time enough for the ring to settle down?” Cardenas asked.

  Wunderly said, “Two days would be safer.”

  “One day would be better,” said Berkowitz, “publicity-wise.”

  “The next day,” Gaeta said, thinking, I can’t let Kris run this stunt. I can’t let her worries control my work.

  “The next day, then,” Cardenas agreed reluctantly. She got up from her chair. “I’m going to the big rally. Anybody else want to see the fireworks?”

  “I’ve got too much work to do,” said Wunderly.

  Gaeta stayed in his seat as he said gently, “Nadia, if you’re finished with the pointer, would you mind turning it off?”

  Only after she did so did Gaeta get up and head for the door with Cardenas.

  Gaeta walked with Cardenas up the village street.

  “Are you sure you’re not taking too big a chance by going the day after the new moon’s captured?” she asked.

  He saw the concern on her face. “Kris, I don’t take risks I can’t handle.”

  “That’s how you broke your nose.”

  “The ice sled hit a rock and I banged my beak on the helmet faceplate,” he said, with a grin. “Could’ve happened in my bathroom, for God’s sake.”

  “Your bathroom is on Mars?”

  His grin faded. “You know what I mean.”

  “And you know what I mean,” she replied, utterly serious.

  “I’ll be okay, Kris. I’ll be fine. Fritz won’t let me take chances with the suit.”

  She fell silent, while Gaeta thought, Jezoo, I can’t be thinking about her and her fears while I’m out there. I’ve gotta concentrate on getting the job done, not worry about what she’s thinking. Surest way to get yourself killed is to let your attention drift away from the job at hand.

  They walked up the gently rising street in silence toward the apartment building where both their quarters were. Through the spaces between the buildings on their left, Gaeta could see a crowd already starting to gather by the lakeside, where the big election-eve rally was scheduled to take place. Eberly expects me there, he remembered.

  “Maybe we oughtta get a quick bite in the cafeteria,” he said to Cardenas, “before we go to the rally.”

  “I’ve got some snacks in the freezer. You can nuke them while I change.”

  Gaeta nodded and smiled. Women have to change their clothes for every occasion. Then he thought about his own pullover shirt and form-fitting denims. I’m gonna be on the platform with Eberly, he realized. What the hell, this is good enough. I’m a stunt guy, not a vid star.

  Raoul Tavalera was sitting on the doorstep of their apartment building, head hanging low, looking more morose than usual. He rose slowly to his feet as he saw Cardenas and Gaeta coming up the walk toward him. Gaeta thought he saw the younger man wince with pain.

  “Raoul,” Cardenas said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

  “They closed down the lab,” he said.

  “What?”

  “About an hour ago. Four big goons from Security came in with their damned batons and told me to shut down everything. Then they locked everything up. Two of ’em are still there, guarding the door.”

  Cardenas felt a flush of rage race through her. “Closed the lab! Why? Under whose authority?”

  Rubbing his side, Tavalera answered, “I asked but they didn’t answer. Just whacked me in the ribs and muscled me out into the hall. Big guys. Four of ’em.”

  Pushing through the building’s front door, Cardenas whipped out her handheld as she started up the stairs. “Professor Wilmot,” she snapped at the phone.

  Gaeta and Tavalera followed her up the stairs and into the sitting room of her apartment. Tavalera looked gloomy. Gaeta thought idly that he could c
hange his clothes in Kris’s bedroom; he had almost as much of his wardrobe in her closet as he had in his own.

  Cardenas projected Wilmot’s gray-haired face against the far wall of the sitting room.

  “Professor,” she said, without a greeting, “someone from Security has shut down my laboratory.”

  Wilmot looked startled. “They have?”

  “I want to know why, and why this was done without consulting me first.”

  Brushing his moustache with one finger, Wilmot looked pained, embarrassed. “Um, I suggest you ask the deputy director about that.”

  “The deputy director?”

  “Dr. Eberly.”

  “Since when does he have the authority to shut down my laboratory?”

  “You’ll have to ask him, I’m afraid. Actually, I know nothing about it. Nothing at all.”

  “But you can tell him to let me reopen my lab!” Cardenas fairly shouted. “You can tell him to call off his dogs.”

  His face slowly turning red, Wilmot said, “I really think you should talk to him directly.”

  “But—”

  “It’s his show. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

  Wilmot’s image abruptly winked out. Cardenas stared at the empty air, openmouthed. “He hung up on me!”

  Gaeta said, “I guess you’ll have to call Eberly.”

  Fuming, Cardenas told the phone to contact Eberly. Ruth Morgenthau’s image appeared, instead.

  “Dr. Eberly is busy preparing his statement for this evening’s rally,” she said smoothly. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “You can call off the security officers posted at my laboratory and let me get back to my work,” Cardenas barked. “Right now. This minute.”

  “I’m afraid that can’t be done,” Morgenthau said, completely unflustered. “We have a dangerous situation on our hands. There’s a fugitive loose, and we have reason to believe she might try to break into your laboratory and release nanobugs that could be very dangerous to everyone in the habitat.”

  “A fugitive? You mean Holly?”

  “She’s psychotic. We have reason to believe she murdered a man. We know she attacked Colonel Kananga.”