by Bill Ransom
“Chang worked with our Virginia people round the clock to analyze the data that Harry and Sonja brought back,” she said. “She discovered new horrors about Mishwe and ViraVax by the minute. There were notes about her, files on everyone, including you. They included quick-look genealogies, religious connections and assets.”
“How did the product get into that data block in the first place?” he asked.
Rico already knew the answer, but he was beginning to enjoy hearing the major talk. He had not had a drink since the ViraVax experience, and she had found subtle ways of supporting him in that. He knew that she had quit drinking years ago, and had quit socializing with Rico and the others at the same time. Now, perhaps, she had a trick or two to teach him. He hoped so.
“Red Bartlett was not a computer genius,” she said. “But he was persistent, and his persistence paid off. He set up a series of programs to monitor researchers’ logs and interior memos and apparently succeeded just shortly before his death. These programs continued to monitor ViraVax after his death, dumping the product into the block that Sonja and Harry recovered. It’s clear that he indicated to Mishwe his discovery of the Meltdown agent, and that’s when Mishwe killed him. He knew it would be covered up by ViraVax, and that the Agency would support that cover-up. He couldn’t lose.”
“But he did lose, Major.”
“I hope so, sir.”
Rico watched Harry helping a squad from the Corps of Engineers pull a tarp tight over a fresh pour of concrete. The afternoon sun threatened to crack the three-meter cap that sealed in the entire Double-Vee, and no one wanted to chance any cracks. The last dozen truckloads lined up at the remains of the dam, filling in the conduit and maintenance shafts that Rico had identified for them. Harry secured his line to a stake and stood, surveying the project.
“Boys will be boys. Always playing in the mud.”
Sonja’s voice behind him was huskier than usual.
The squad members around him snapped to attention, and when Harry turned he saw Sonja and his father, flanked by Major Scholz and Trenton Solaris. Solaris was wrapped like a mummy and hefted his umbrella shield against the enemy sunlight.
“As you were,” the major said, and the squad returned to their duty.
Sonja squinted at Harry in that way that meant, “Who is this person, really?”
Hundreds had died on this spot, many before their very eyes. Only two other people knew how that felt—his father and Marte Chang.
“How is this going to change us?” he asked.
“Subtlety is not your strong suit,” Sonja said.
Her gaze held his, searched him. . . .
For what?
“No one else could understand what happened here,” he said. “I get really nervous when you’re gone. I. . . you’re part of me.
“Yes,” she said, “we’ve changed for the closer. At the last, when you were still in school, you frightened me.” She hesitated, a blush coming to her cheeks. “What was happening to you at home frightened me, so I stayed away. So did my mother and father. We would have grown further apart. I can’t imagine that now.”
He would have cried if she hadn’t hugged him in time.
“I have some news that we need to discuss,” the major said to Rico. “Let’s have a seat in the mess tent. Marte Chang and Yolanda Rubia are waiting for us there. They propose a pooling of resources.”
“A private information service?” Rico asked.
“Call it a consulting service,” the major said, “or a government corporation. What do you think?”
“I’ll hear it out,” Rico said. “I have a lot of old business to talk over with Yolanda.”
A shadow crossed the major’s face, but she quickly recovered. Rico caught her arm.
“Then,” he said, “I’d like to talk over some new business with you, Major, if that’s all right.”
“New business would be fine, Colonel,” she said with a smile. “That would be just fine.”
Harry turned to go but Trenton Solaris stopped him. The albino removed his right glove, then reached out into the sunlight to shake Harry’s hand.
“Congratulations again, Harry,” he said. “Your performance was first-class. Your country is very proud of you.”
“Thanks,” Harry said. “My father taught me a lot more than I realized. We have our differences, but I’m glad he’s alive. I’m glad it worked.”
Solaris’s gaze shifted away from his own, then back. He shook Harry’s hand again. The albino congratulated Sonja, too.
“Give some thought to what you want with your lives,” he said. “You both have skills that your country—and your adopted country—can use. I urge you to consider making a career out of what you do best—learning, and helping others.”
“If you mean working for the Agency, I’m not sure I’d care to be in my father’s command,” Harry said. “I mean, I’ve learned a lot, and one thing I’ve learned is not to press my luck.”
Solaris laughed.
“I think you would make a better statesman than an agent, Harry,” he said. “But I, personally, and the Agency will support you in anything you choose. And we have many, many resources.”
Sonja cleared her throat and said, “I’d like to be part of the Mars colony shot, but with all the trouble in the U.S. it looks like it’ll never get off the ground.”
“I promise you all of the flight time you want in anything you want,” Solaris said, his smile-wrinkles deployed. “That’s the first step. The rest is up to the politicians. Good politicians.”
Solaris winked at Sonja and nodded at Harry.
“You need somebody like him to get their attention. If you do that, the sky’s the limit.”
Harry’s stomach flipped at the thought of Sonja going anywhere without him, but Mars. . . ?
She must have read his mind, or at least his expression.
Sonja laughed, and took his hand.
“Hey, baby,” she said, “wanna be Mayor of Mars?”
“Chill,” he said, and laughed. “With you? Anytime.”
The End
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