by Strong, Ray
Elizabeth closed her eyes again, heard her mother’s voice describe Home, and recalled the scents of wheat and jasmine. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Meriel smiling in her sleep.
***
Meriel was awake, with the med-tech’s cowl pushed back and talking to Elizabeth and John when Molly and the captain entered the infirmary the next morning. Meriel frowned and turned her head away so they could not see her expression. She squeezed Elizabeth’s hand to get her attention and signed, “Trust only Cookie.”
“John too?” Elizabeth replied in sign.
“Only Cookie.”
“I hope you are feeling better, Chief Hope,” the captain said, and Meriel nodded. “John, Meriel, Elizabeth, this concerns you greatly,” the captain said. “I need you to review this before I send it.”
To: UPI, AP, GCI, UNE Human Rights Council, UNE Office of Internal Affairs, United Planets Council, Independent Station Alliance, Sector 28 Space Troopers…
From: Anonymous
Please find attached documents that link BioLuna, Alan C. Biadez, and the Archtrope of Calliope to an attempted illegal takeover of the moon Haven (Jira-1/B3) and LeHavre Station. (See certificate of origin enclosed.)
Also attached, please find evidence linking named parties in attack on the independent trader LSM Princess (GCN 13442:88) and recent attack on LSM Tiger (GCN 35521:316). Trooper report filed. Please see legal counsel PacifiCo (Pacific League of Independent Traders).
Attachments: Interim Treaty of Haven
“This is above my pay grade,” John said.
Meriel looked at John and shook her head and then looked back to Molly. “I’m not sure about this.”
“Keeping this in your pocket could be your insurance policy, M,” John said. “Let them know you’ve got this, and it could restrain them from action.”
Meriel shook her head. “A weak hold, John. Biadez knows where all the kids are. If he ever took one of them, I’d fold in a heartbeat.”
“What about justice for the murderers?” Molly asked.
“Justice? Are you kidding me?” Meriel said. “We’ll all be dead. I need to save my family, not warn people. These people have two fleets and rule a star system.”
“M, they’re coming for them and us anyway,” Elizabeth said.
“Bring them with us,” John said. “Before this goes public, have all of your kids sent to Haven. We’ll protect them.”
Meriel’s mouth fell open. “All of them?”
John smiled. “Of course, all of them.”
“But Haven is a little colony,” Meriel said.
“It’ll surprise you,” John said. “We’ll tell the troopers about the threat to your kids as soon as we synch with the LeHavre beacon. The troopers can go get them.”
“Are we OK with this, then?” Molly asked.
John frowned. “The prime minister of Haven will need to OK this message.”
Meriel squinted at him. “John, you sure you can take the kids?”
“Yup. Plenty of room.”
“Then tell your prime minister I’m sending it with or without his permission. Your people have survived these killers; my family did not.” She sighed and looked away. “Nearly all of the people who know about them want to harm them.” And that’s my fault, she thought. She looked back at Molly and the captain. “We need to make this public before Biadez rounds them up. We’re little people out here. We need to engage forces equal to theirs: the UNE, media, public opinion. I need them to be the most-watched kids in the galaxy. The only thing that will save them from harm now is if every trooper in the system is keeping his eyes on them and knows enough to blame the bad guys. We need the conspirators on the run so they don’t have time to look for the kids.”
“OK? So we send it?” Molly asked.
Meriel looked to Elizabeth. “OK, Sis?”
“Sure,” Elizabeth said, “but not this infogram. How about ‘Powerful Conspiracy Targets Children for Death.’ And send it to IGB and the independent news agencies first before the politicians and big media can spin it.”
Molly smiled. “You girls are pretty young to be so cynical.”
Elizabeth and Meriel looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
“OK, M,” John said. “It goes as soon as we can synch. They can impeach me. Oh, that’s right; I don’t hold an office.”
“Yet,” the captain said. “You bring down BioLuna, and you can get elected to anything you want.”
Meriel frowned. “I think BioLuna will resist being brought down.”
***
Captain Ceirniki’s ready room was immaculate, much larger than the UNE could provision, and one of the reasons he had joined the mercenaries under Admiral Leung. And every successful mission had provided a bigger bonus. The next mission offered not just a bonus but more land on a habitable colony than a CEO on Earth.
He stood behind his desk waiting for the person he had flown fourteen light years for a private word. The window behind him was large for his sleek FTL corvette. The orange glow of Jupiter’s crescent swept across the com link on his desk, where a tiny red light blinked.
“Good evening, sir,” the captain said.
“We want to move now, captain. What’s holding us up?” his associate asked. The link displayed a holo of a gaggle of men in business suits, each with their own link and conversation led by a middle-aged man walking at the apex—Cecil Rhodes, the chairman of BioLuna. There was no delay in the communication and the captain surmised that the man he spoke to was currently on E3, Europa’s geosynchronous station.
“The heavy weaponry is in place, sir, but the admiral has a request.”
“Good god, what does he want now?”
“Their strength is uncertain, and the admiral wants an edge. Their marine contingent is modest but well trained.”
“Yes, I know,” Rhodes said with contempt. “We trained them.” He turned his head as one of the gaggle tapped him on the shoulder. Rhodes raised his hand to the captain in a request to wait and turned to his team for a moment. When he turned back to the captain, he asked, “Your forces are at full strength?”
“Yes, always. But the admiral will not leave victory to chance. That’s why you hired him. The GCE would help us.”
“The Blackout-Box is busy on Seiyei.”
“Can we build another?” the captain asked.
“No,” Rhodes said. “It requires military R and D and Pres…our partner is now too public to keep those doors open for us.”
“Are you sure there are only two?”
“Of course,” he said with a tone that implied you moron. “The one is still needed on Seiyei. The GCE is assuring us that the only message that leaves the colony is our message, that the takeover was a popular revolution. Without that, everyone will know it was your admiral’s invasion. God, I dream of the day we can control information the way they can on Earth.”
“What about the other GCE on Haven?”
“Still broken.”
“And they can’t repair it?”
“No, they don’t have the technology or the controller.”
“Then can we fix it?” the captain asked.
“Not without expertise we do not have.”
After a long silence, the captain spoke. “The admiral’s sources say that a technician has been found, one of the original design team.”
Rhodes stopped and scowled as if he had observed a mouse escape a trap. “I thought they all disappeared after the mur…after the Princess incident.”
“Apparently not all.”
“What about the controller?”
“He can operate it from the box itself.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“Yes.”
“So why are you coming to me?”
“We hear the fanatics are holding him,” the captain said.
“That’s unfortunate for him.”
“And for us,” the captain said. He leaned over his desk. “Perhaps you might negotiate a deal
for us.”
“Damn,” Cecil Rhodes muttered and shook his head. Another bargain with the devil, he thought. He waved his flock to follow him. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said, and the holo disappeared.
Captain Ceirniki tapped his link.
“Where to, sir?”
“Jira-1,” the captain said.
Chapter 12 LeHavre Station, Jira-1 System
LeHavre—Inbound
Meriel woke and blinked.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Elizabeth said with a smile.
“Where are we?”
“Jira-1. Inbound to LeHavre,” Elizabeth said. “We passed the beacon, and Socket sent messages to the kids and their families, M. And the messages to the troopers are out, too.”
“Now we wait,” Meriel said.
“Liz,” they heard Molly say through Elizabeth’s link, “take a look at this.” Elizabeth displayed the message on the ceiling for Meriel.
IGB news wire ET/2187:112:11
Breaking. For immediate release.
Documents hidden for ten years have been made available to this network that implicate BioLuna CEO Rhodes, the Archtrope of Calliope, and unnamed UNE/IS officials in the attempted illegal takeover of a colony.
These documents link the conspiracy to a complaint filed in the Lander Station superior court from representatives of the L5 colonists of Haven…
“Jeremy must have forwarded a copy of the material we sent him before the attack. He’d not have learned about the attack on the Tiger yet,” Meriel said.
“He must have been thinking like you were,” Elizabeth said. “Better to have the law and the media going after Biadez and Khanag before they can get to us and the kids.”
They were quiet a moment, and Elizabeth watched her sister staring at the overhead and smiling.
“You need to forgive him, M,” Elizabeth said.
Meriel turned to her sister and lost her smile. “Did he talk to you?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “It’s obvious. He just hangs around you, and you’re distant.”
Meriel looked away. “You’re not Mom.”
Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “No, but maybe you need one. Are you mad at him?”
Meriel remained silent.
“He loves you, M. He comes to the med-tech every time he’s off duty.”
Meriel nodded. “I saw him sometimes.
“He sleeps here.”
“So do you.”
“I’m family,” Elizabeth said and then raised her arm to show that she was still handcuffed to the chair. “And Cookie only gives me potty breaks. You didn’t talk to John about Ferrell?”
“I didn’t know what to say.”
“I know he hurt you, M, but I think he was just trying to help.”
“We should pay for our own mistakes, but I paid for his.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Is that it? You making him suffer because Ferrell was a shit?”
“John didn’t trust me, Liz.”
“Oh, so now Ms. ‘I can skirt the law whenever I like’ is all so trustworthy? You’re acting like you’re going to walk away from this like nothing happened, like you can just forget him because he brings a bad memory.”
“I don’t need his help.”
“Now you’re just pissing me off,” Elizabeth said. “You’re acting like you’re alone in the world, like you can do all this yourself.”
“I’ve had to.”
“Not anymore, Sis, not for some time now. Mom gave you the chip but she told me to help you, so listen up.” Elizabeth took a breath. “You’re a mess, and he’s sticking with you. No one has ever cared for you like this except a few of us. And you’ve never cared for any man as much as you care for him. You give all us kids a mile but won’t give him an inch. Don’t blow this, M.”
“It still hurts,” Meriel said.
Elizabeth nodded and took Meriel’s hand. “Don’t wait too long, or the hurt will never go away.”
***
Ellen Biadez picked up the tiny vial of brown liquid that lay on the nightstand of the bed, pierced her little finger with the sharp end, closed her eyes, and sighed. Wearing only a silk nightgown that was banned everywhere in known space, she walked to the window and lit a cigarette from the monogrammed gold case on the coffee table. She inhaled deeply.
Along a section of the window frame, she drew her finger to increase the window’s transmissivity to bring out the red and black contrasts of the sunrise on the cliff face of the Ophir chasm outside. Another swipe of her finger on the frame and the low moan of the rushing wind filled the room as the air heated by the rising sun rushed into the long canyon. Without thinking, she wrote her initials on the window in the reddish dust that seemed to coat everything, even the most exclusive apartments of Mars-6.
It had been a long day of spinning the news and deflecting reporter’s questions because of a spacer who had lived ten years longer than they had intended.
Behind her, a mobile replicator rolled up and looked at her with a childlike face, awaiting her wishes. She looked at it and curled her lip.
“Champagne. Two. Surprise me,” she said, and the robot placed two flutes of vintage champagne on the table.
Her bracelet link buzzed. “What is it?”
“We know where they went.”
She waited and sighed. “OK, where are they?”
“Haven.”
“Crap. Can we get to her?”
“Not yet.”
“What about her old ship. Can we destroy it?”
“They looked into it. We can’t do that without taking a chunk outta Enterprise Station and lots of collateral damage.”
The little robot interrupted. “Can I offer you something more, ma’am?” it asked with a child’s voice, but Ellen ignored it.
“How can I hurt her?” she asked under her breath. The robot tilted its head in confusion. “Can we destroy her reputation? Discredit her in the media?”
“We’ve still got drugs on her record. We can push that button anytime we want.”
She shook her head. “Then push the goddamned button, moron,” she said and tapped her link.
A man stirred in the bed behind her, and the reflection of the bed lamp glinted off her champagne flute.
“You were stupid to listen to my husband and not deal with those brats more…decisively,” she said. “Now our entire plan is jeopardized by one stupid girl who has no clue what she’s gotten herself into.”
“Your husband is an influential man, and he is our partner in this.”
“My husband is an idealistic imbecile.” She threw her cigarette on the plush white carpet, and the little robot quickly moved to extinguish and dispose of it. “At least you should have taken out that little bitch before she shot off her mouth,” she said while watching the robot with contempt.
“She was too public.”
“You’ve been saying that for a decade. How public is she now, for god’s sake? I’m tired of cleaning up the mess those cretins always seem to leave behind.”
“You worry too much,” he said. “No media company in the galaxy will print the real story.” He walked to the window and picked up the other flute of champagne. “Forces are in place. It will only be a few weeks.”
“You said that before, as I recall,” she said with another sneer. She turned on him with teeth bared and poked her index finger in his chest. “And this time when your forces roll over Haven, make sure they roll over her, too.”
He narrowed his eyes, put his hand over hers, and squeezed slowly. Ellen’s face lost its animal fierceness, and when she winced, he smiled and eased his grip without letting go. He kissed her on the lips, turned, and walked to the bathroom.
Ellen rubbed her hand and clenched her teeth. She saw the innocent face of the mobile replicator waiting for her wishes nearby, and she kicked it. Her smile returned as she watched the wounded robot leave to engage a functioning replacement, dragging its shattered arm behind it.
She could not tell him what
she knew—her husband, Alan Biadez, was feeling remorseful and preparing to expose their plans. If she did, her lover, Cecil Rhodes, the CEO of BioLuna, would kill them both before she left the room.
LeHavre—On Station
LeHavre was a gleaming white torus mostly dedicated to research and development and transshipments from space to the surface. Since John had left, the stationers had built a new appendage around the slender zero-g axis, a toroid with a simulated 1.15-g at the periphery and pods along spokes to provide ranges of gravity for physical therapy.
In the clinic on the third tier, a wrinkled old doctor, the genetic surgeon who had saved her life, checked Meriel’s vital signs from the telemetry patch on her stomach that monitored her damaged organs.
“Any pain?” the doctor asked as he pushed a spot on her stomach near the patch.
“Nothing. Can’t we move this any faster?”
The doctor frowned and pushed on the patch. “Now?”
“Yeah! OK, OK.”
“Stand for me.”
Meriel took the forearm crutches and winced when the crutch padding rubbed the rashes on her arms, and she stood awkwardly. “This would be easier in a suit, Doc.”
“Can’t use any of those gadgets and gee-gaws,” the doctor said absently while he made notations on his link. “I told you that once you go on the gadgets, you never get off. If you wear a walking suit, the body adapts to the suit, your muscles atrophy, and you’ll never be able to walk again without it.”
The doctor waved his link near the telemetry patch and a full-size, real-time holo of the inside of Meriel’s body appeared beside them next to a heads-up display of a console. With a wave of his fingers on the console’s icons, the holo zoomed into the region near each of Meriel’s wounds.
“Uh-huh,” the doctor said as he moved from region to region within the holo of her body to observe the fractured ribs and contusions that appeared with green or blue glows around the healing injuries. He moved to the orange glow around her ruptured liver and used the console to adjust the genomics pump, and the orange region calmed to light chartreuse.