Just as Jacks was lining up on the Navstar, the transmitter hidden under the seat outside Med Centre 3 activated and sent out its signal. Within seconds, alarms began sounding throughout Phoenix Station. The first things to fail were the communication arrays. External communications were severed and Phoenix found itself cut off from the rest of the universe. Seconds later the station went into a full security lockdown. Airlocks were closed and electronically sealed, elevators and walkways were shut down and access to all vital areas of the station was barred. Mike Pederson was reduced to pounding on his console with his fists. He couldn’t communicate with anyone outside Ops and the doors were locked shut. If they had been any other doors and he might have considered taking a fire axe to them, but these were heavy duty affairs, designed to keep terrorists out. He was going nowhere.
Elsewhere on Phoenix things were no better; power and life support were unaffected but as a working space station, Phoenix quite simply ceased to function. With Phoenix neutralized, the military had no assets in-system that could cause Jacks any problems. Reinforcements could be brought in from outside but that would take hours, by which time he would be long gone. All in all, Jacks’ contingency plan was working rather well indeed.
Orbital One
With little left to do, DCI Burns once again found himself staring out at the night sky from one of the observation windows near his quarters on Deck 1. Later he’d write out a full report of his findings for his superiors but for now he was content to take some time out to appreciate the view; who knew when the chance would come again. He’d downloaded a star map from the station’s database and was in the process of trying to determine exactly which way was home, not that he expected to have to navigate by himself… which was just as well because despite having a map in front of him he still couldn’t quite work it out. There were just so many stars and the ones he wasn’t interested in got in the way of the ones that he was. He was searching for a blue star called Ursula, from whence he should be able to trace his path home. But it was like looking for a needle in a haystack, or rather one particular straw in a haystack, where one straw looked pretty much like all the others. According to the star chart, at this particular time of night Ursula would be low in the Eastern sky if you were viewing from the point where the zero meridian intersected the planet’s equator. O1 was sixty degrees behind the meridian so that would mean that Ursula would be higher in the sky, so it should be about…
“Sir!” said Sgt. Mullins, bringing him out of his reverie. “Admiral Giles is on the line. We’ve lost contact with Phoenix.”
CHAPTER 11
Orbital One
“All contact with Phoenix was lost about thirty minutes ago,” said Admiral Giles. “We are presently in touch with a survey vessel that was on final approach to Phoenix when all communications were severed. They were close enough see into the station and I gather they are communicating using Morse code. According to the latest information the station is completely locked down.”
“And Commodore Jacks?” said Jacobs.
“One step ahead. He’s gone,” said Burns.
“I concur,” said Giles. “Commander Jacobs, I understand you have a gunboat at your disposal. Can Hector be tracked from there?” Jacobs looked over at Chuck, who nodded.
“Good,” said Giles. “Who’s your best man?” Jacobs considered the men he had at his disposal. Spoiled for choice, he once again looked at Chuck, who this time gave a definite shake of his head.
“Err, Sub-Captain Poulson,” said Jacobs. Chuck winced.
“Very well. Sub-Captain Poulson, you are to take O1’s gunboat and ascertain the whereabouts of Commodore Jacks and the stolen computer core. Once located, report in on a secure channel and on no account allow the target to slip away. Understood?”
“Yes sir,” said Chuck.
“You are authorized to approach the target at your discretion. Should you make contact consider yourselves under military rules of engagement. Any questions?”
Loads, thought Chuck. Why me for a start? You’re an admiral, for God’s sake. Don’t you have a squadron of battleships or a flotilla of destroyers up your sleeve, ready and waiting for this kind of eventuality? Is Sub-Captain Poulson in the Valiant the very best that the high command can come up with? Was Jacks right, is this really the sharp end of the service? Doesn’t look very sharp from where I’m standing – pretty darned blunt, to be perfectly honest.
In the event, Giles didn’t wait for Chuck to answer. “Good luck, Mr Poulson. Dismissed.”
“No time to waste, Chuck,” said Jacobs. “Better get going. Who do you want to take with you?”
There was a good question, thought Chuck. Definitely not Baz, not Ollie, not Guns, not Shorty or Archie. That left Duke and Bill….
“I’ll go,” said Penny. Everyone turned and looked at her and for the first time, Chuck saw Penny not as a girlish cadet, but as a capable, confident woman.
“You sure?” said Chuck.
“Wait a minute,” said Jacobs before Penny could answer. “You were sent here for six months on the job training, that’s all. I don’t think this is the kind of situation your course tutor had in mind. It could be dangerous.”
“Oh, I know exactly what my course tutor had in mind, sir,” said Penny. “And it had nothing to do with on the job training.”
“I’m sorry?” said Jacobs.
“Not important,” said Penny. “What is important is having the right person for the job, and that’s me,” she said forcibly.
“Chuck?” said Jacobs.
“Fine by me,” he said. “Penny got me out of trouble on that cargo pod. If I’d been with any of the others I doubt I’d be here to tell the tale.”
“Fair enough,” said Jacobs slowly. “Penny it is.”
“I think there’s something you should know,” said Lt. Primrose, who had dried her tears and returned to her normal, professional self. “It seems that a short time ago, Marine Dobbs sent a communiqué to Commodore Jacks telling him that Sub-Captain Poulson had been released from custody on the orders of Admiral Giles.”
“Damn,” said Burns. “That’s what tipped him off. Worse, he could well guess our next move.”
“Perhaps you might need these,” said Primrose, removing a small case from a cabinet. She set the case on the desk and opened it to reveal a pair of pulse pistols. She gave one to Penny and handed the other to Chuck.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” he said.
“Point it at people… shoot them?” said Mullins under his breath.
“With any luck,” said Primrose, pausing to give Mullins a stern glance, “You won’t need them, though if I were you, I wouldn’t pin all my hopes on being lucky. If you do come up against the commodore, I don’t think you’ll find him amenable to negotiation. The gun might come in handy.”
Chuck weighed the gun in his hand. It was surprisingly light.
“And don’t wave it around like a bunch of bananas,” said Primrose. “Keep it in the holster unless you really need it; taking it out signifies intent. If you do intend to use it, keep your arms up straight and aim down the sights.”
“Then what?” said Chuck. “Is there some kind or warning I’m supposed to give?”
“You can try ‘Stick ‘em up!’ or ‘Freeze!’ if you like, but personally I wouldn’t bother,” said Mullins. “It just gives the other guy the chance to shoot you in the head.”
“Too right. Best pull the trigger first and ask questions later,” said Penny.
“Isn’t there some law against that?” said Chuck.
“Not now we have a mandate from Admiral Giles,” said Penny. “We are now officially covered by military rules of engagement. ‘When engaging known hostile forces, all threats, either real or perceived, may be countered by a level of force appropriate to the situation.’ General Rules of Engagement, paragraph 1.”
“Isn’t ‘shoot first and ask questions later’ a somewhat loose interpretation of the phrase ‘appropriate for
ce’?”
“No, not at all. That’s why they use the word ‘appropriate’. It’s nice and vague and it cuts out a lot of inconvenient grey areas. Black and white are much easier colours to deal with, especially when your enemy is well armed, highly motivated and expertly trained.”
“And if you do pull the trigger, make sure you don’t miss – you’ll just make him angry,” said Primrose. “And more to the point he’ll shoot back, and he certainly won’t miss, trust me.”
“Just keep your eyes open and your wits about you,” said Burns. “You only need to keep on his trail until you can call in the cavalry. You don’t have to pick a fight. If you do get rumbled, keep your heads down and beat a retreat. OK?”
“Got it,” said Chuck. “Head down, no fighting, beat a retreat.” It was the best news he’d received all day. He looked at the row of faces around him, most of which were now grave. Penny checked that her sidearm was fastened down in the holster, gave it a pat and then gave him a reassuring grin. There she was again; did she have no understanding of the concept of danger? Chuck was quickly developing a lead ball in his stomach she was chomping at the bit.
Five minutes later he and Penny were strapped into their seats aboard the Valiant. He paused for a few seconds before initiating engine start. “Here goes,” he said, and they moved off into the night.
After everyone had gone Primrose switched on Jacks’ computer, typed in ‘trapeze’ and turned her attention to the hidden file labelled MF. Being in the armed forces, Primrose was entitled to the services of a counsellor. If she’d been of a mind to consult one she’d have received much the same advice as Bernie Stevens all those years ago, as dealing with a cheating lover was, in many ways, similar to dealing with the death of a loved one. You needed to get over the denial and disbelief, deal with the anger, battle through the depression and then achieve acceptance. It would bring order to the pain.
In Primrose’s case, any remaining denial or disbelief lasted as long as it took to read through Jacks’ list of reservations at Madame Fifi’s. Acceptance arrived about ten seconds later. As for the depression, she consigned it to the garbage can where it belonged, alongside the scotch and the condoms. She really ought to do the same with the anger, but that was something she might find a use for, so she put in a little compartment in the recesses of her heart, safe until she needed it.
“We’ll be entering Phoenix airspace in about ten minutes,” said Penny.
“No response from air traffic control, no radio contact – nothing,” said Chuck. “Better start the braking manoeuvre now and move in slowly – don’t want to run into anything unexpected.”
“How close will you need to be in order to pick up Hector’s signal?”
“Hard to say, but now we know what to look for we can boost the gain on the sensors and filter out most of the background noise. I don’t know… maybe a few thousand kilometres.”
“Good job you found that file on his terminal or we wouldn’t have known where to start.”
“Good job Jacks spent so much time at Fifi’s or there wouldn’t have been anything to find. He must really love the place.”
“Doesn’t really surprise me – it’s hardly a secret that Madame Fifi’s does a roaring trade. In normal circumstances I don’t see much wrong with it, to tell the truth. Can’t blame anyone for wanting a bit of a cuddle after they’ve been stuck out in space on their own, can you?”
“Suppose not,” said Chuck. “But Jacks was seeing Primrose. I always thought you’d forget about places like that once you were in a stable, loving relationship – or is that stupidly old fashioned of me?”
“Don’t think Jacks was the forgetting kind,” said Penny. “A wife in every port, except with Madame Fifi’s it’s like a harem in every port. Probably a habit he didn’t want to break.”
“Guess not,” said Chuck.
“If you don’t mind me asking, have you ever been in a stable, loving relationship?”
“Not really… I had a couple that were sort of loving – just not very stable. Never seemed to have much luck in that department.”
“There’s always Fifi’s, sir.”
“Don’t think it’s for me, Penny. Wouldn’t have the courage to go in for a start.”
“Take’s all kinds, sir. Madame Fifi’s caters for females too, you know.”
“You’re joking.”
“Not at all. At the bottom of the page there was a link to the ladies section. Apparently, my very own Adonis is but a phone call away.”
“I wouldn’t have thought the fairer sex would have the need for a place like Fifi’s. I mean, you could just walk into a bar and before long someone would come along and chat you up, wouldn’t they?”
“No thanks. Why should I have to parade myself in some sleazy bar, waiting for the amorous overtures of some drunken slob? How undignified. Yuk! And all the time you men get to nip off down the knocking shop and get everything you want in complete discretion, satisfaction guaranteed. Where’s the equality in that?”
“Point taken,” said Chuck sheepishly. “Have you ever… you know, been?”
“Madame Fifi’s? Good grief, no. I prefer the good old fashioned way.”
“Which is?”
“Just wait for Mister Right to come along in his own good time. Statistics show that all the best relationships are made by people who meet entirely by chance.”
“That right?”
“No idea. Sounds reasonable enough though... I take it you’ve not met Miss Right yet, sir?”
“Miss Right? No… I had a Miss Neurotic once. And a Miss Jealous. Then there was Miss ‘If you really, truly loved me you’d take me out to expensive restaurants and buy me presents every day’. She was the worst of the lot. The first two left me broken – she just left me broke.”
“Luck of the draw, sir”
“Whatever… Do you think Jacks and Primrose met by chance?”
“No. Jacks asked for her, apparently. I think he knew what he was doing.”
“Have to feel sorry for old Primrose,” said Chuck. “Think she’ll be OK?”
“She’ll be fine – made of strong stuff is Dolores. She’ll soon get over it and find someone new. Could be wrong but I think she might have taken a bit of a shine to you.”
“Me? Are you joking? Whenever we meet she looks me up and down like I’m a piece of meat.”
“Oh, we all do that,” said Penny. “It’s hardwired into our instincts; we’re just looking for our very own alpha male, the specimen most likely to slay the dragon and bring home the bacon. Men do the same, you know – looking for child bearing hips, thick, luxurious hair, that sort of thing.”
“Personally, I just like a nice smile. I don’t think Primrose does smiles, does she? Her smiley muscles must be underdeveloped.”
“Did you ever think about smiling at her first?”
“Not now you mention it, no. She’s not the kind of person to naturally draw a smile, is she? I mean, when you see someone like Primrose coming towards you, you don’t think to yourself, ‘I know, I’ll give this person a nice smile as she walks past’. It’s more like, ‘Don’t fancy eye contact with this one. I think I’ll look the other way and pretend I didn’t see her’. She’s just so darned stern.”
“You could at least try,” said Penny.
“If it makes you feel happier, I will – always assuming we get back in one piece.”
“Look,” said Penny, pointing ahead. Off in the distance a pattern of red lights were flashing rhythmically – three short pulses followed by a longer one.
“That’s an emergency beacon,” said Chuck. “It must be Phoenix. Better go in nice and steady.”
Commodore Jacks had spent the previous hour monitoring all the military frequencies, listening for anything that might cause him concern. There was plenty of radio traffic going in the direction of Phoenix but nothing coming out, which was reassuring. There didn’t seem to be very much going in or out of O1 either, though he was undecided as
to whether that was good news or bad. If Giles or anyone else wanted to conceal something from him, they would hardly broadcast it on normal frequencies. On the other hand, if Giles decided to marshal all the available forces, he wouldn’t be able to do all of it on secure channels. Somewhere along the line some kind of signal would have to be sent in plain language and that’s what Jacks was looking for. And so far, nothing, and the longer it stayed that way the better.
At long last the com showed an incoming message; his contact had entered the system and was requesting instructions. Jacks sent off a reply and brought the Arrow’s systems on line. Moving away from the Navstar he set a course away from the sun, out towards the edge of the system.
As the Valiant approached Phoenix Chuck reduced their forward speed to a crawl. The emergency beacon atop Phoenix was still flashing away and a number of vessels were moving slowly around its perimeter, navigation lights blazing. As he watched even more ships arrived in the vicinity. All were trying to make contact with Phoenix but the space station remained stubbornly silent.
“This is close enough,” he said. “That lot are going to start playing bumping cars before long. Take control while I scan for Hector. If he’s still on Phoenix I should be able to get a reading.” He fiddled with the sensors but came up blank.
“Got anything?” said Penny.
“Not a murmur,” replied Chuck. “I’ll try widening the sensor track and searching further afield.” After a few minutes of scanning the night sky he was rewarded with a small bleep from the sensors. Concentrating the sweep even further the bleep intensified. “Hello, we’re on to something. Yes, that’s Hector. No doubt about it.”
The Blunt End of the Service Page 20