by Sarah Zettel
There followed a series of rumbles and whooshes familiar to anyone who had traveled in space, as more airlocks opened. Then, Helen Failia, looking as straight-backed and determined as ever, marched down the narrow connector.
“Welcome home, Dr. Failia,” announced Tori over the intercom.
Helen looked only a little startled. “Thank you, Tori,” she said in the general direction of the open intercom. Then Helen faced Michael and Ben. “A full welcoming committee, gentlemen?”
Ben practically beamed. “It’s not just us.” He swept a hand toward the intercom. Helen’s eyebrows rose as she identified the rushing noise as voices and exclamations.
“Well,” she said, sounding slightly pleased. “We’d better not keep them waiting.”
“Helen.” Michael quickly sidestepped into her path. “There’s been a couple of developments you need to know about, right now.”
Helen frowned, but Ben scowled. A dark-red flush crept up his neck.
“Okay.” Helen glanced around. There was a small lounge off the corner of the clearing area for the occasional passenger who came down sick and dizzy from the transitions between weightlessness and full gravity. “Gentlemen…” She gestured for them to follow her.
But movement caught his eye, and Michael glanced back toward the connector. Josh Kenyon and Veronica Hatch walked out into flight control. Veronica caught Michael’s eye and lengthened her stride.
“I’d like to talk with you,” she said as she brushed past him. Then she set her jaw and headed for the hallway, shouldering her way through Helen’s crowd. Michael looked back again at Josh. Josh simply nodded and turned away, vanishing back into the scarab for reasons which he obviously did not feel like sharing.
Deal with that later. Michael hurried to catch up with Helen and Ben.
The three of them crowded into the lounge, with its small table, a couple of chairs, and an old-fashioned fainting couch. Helen walked to the back wall, turned around, and folded her arms.
“Well?”
Which first? Michael thought of the cheering crowds and the recording of Helen’s conversation with Mother Earth.
“We know who sent the photo to the C.A.C.”
Helen took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. Michael couldn’t help glancing at Ben. He’d gone ghost white, and Michael smiled inwardly with a kind of grim triumph.
Helen looked from Michael to Ben. He saw the realization come to her. Her face shifted, the expression turning from impatience, to shock, to disbelief, and finally to sorrow.
“No, Ben. You didn’t.”
“I’m sorry,” Ben spread his hands. “I…I wanted you to see what Mother Earth really planned for us. It was the only way.”
“Trying to push us into a revolution was an answer?” demanded Michael. Ben looked regretful, but not at what he’d done. He was only sorry he’d gotten caught. “I’d hate to hear the question.”
Ben just shook his head. His color was returning, and now he was a little too pink. “You did hear it. You just weren’t listening.”
Which didn’t even deserve an answer.
Helen collapsed into one of the chairs. She pressed her forehead against her palm and huddled in on herself as if she were cold or frightened. Michael didn’t blame her. He’d felt the same way when he saw the files. Ben wasn’t who he’d pretended to be all these years. He had lied and manipulated them all from the start. This was just the latest in a long series of deceptions. Michael wasn’t even sure it was the worst.
Michael opened his mouth to tell Helen, but she lifted her head. “Well, it doesn’t really matter,” she said.
Michael choked. “What?”
“We need Ben.” Helen got to her feet. “It would have come down to this sooner or later anyway. I need you both to keep Venera working.”
“I’m with you Helen,” breathed Ben, all sincere loyalty.
“Holy God!” Michael swung around to face him. “You! She doesn’t even know who you are!”
Helen stayed still, swaying a little on her feet. She must be exhausted, thought Michael. Or just stunned. Maybe that’s good. Let me show her how bad this is. Shock her back to her senses.
“His name is Paul Mabrey,” said Michael, looking straight at Ben. The pink tinge to his skin faded, then darkened, until he turned red with what? Shame? Anger? “He followed Fuller through the Bradbury Rebellion and then disappeared under cover of an alias, leaving the Paul Mabrey identity as one of the sharpest clip-outs our two U.N. security drones say they’ve ever seen.” Ben’s eyes narrowed, just a little, and Michael wondered what he was thinking. It didn’t matter. “He used you, Helen. He used you and Venera.”
“No.” Ben scrubbed his scalp. “Never. Not until the yewners threatened to take us over. Helen, I just wanted Venera to be free.”
For the first time in his entire life, Michael saw Helen look her age. She stepped slowly and carefully around the table and stopped when she reached Michael’s side. She laid her hand on his forearm, and he felt the dryness of her skin, and the deep grooves in her palm.
Grandma Helen looked up at him with her dark eyes. “It doesn’t matter Michael,” she told him. “We’ve already taken the first steps and we can’t turn around,” She squeezed his arm, and continued past him toward the door. Ben flushed even darker with triumph.
No, no. I will not let it go like this. Michael had control of his voice again. “First steps?” he demanded of her back. “And we’re standing on, what? Fraud? Murder? Grace Meyer murdered Derek and Kevin to keep them from tagging her as one of their bosses. Are you going to say that doesn’t matter?” He strode forward until he was beside her, at least partly in her line of sight. “They were Venerans, Helen. They were born here. They expected you to look out for them.” His hands flailed helplessly in the air. “Are you going to let them down?”
That stopped her. She stood there, just on the edge of the door’s sensor range. Michael’s heart hammered hard in his chest. She had to listen to that. She had to.
“Give Grace to the yewners,” she said. “They can take her down to Mother Earth for prosecution.”
“Helen!” Michael cried. No other word would come.
“No, Michael,” she said softly. “It’s too late. The U.N. wants to take the world away from us. We are not going to let them.”
She stepped forward. The door swished open. She walked through the empty staging area and out into the crowded hallway beyond, with Ben right at her heels.
There was nothing Michael could do but follow along.
By the time he got to the corridor, the noise was deafening. People lined the sides of the staircase three deep. Applause, cheers, and cries of “Welcome home!” showered down on Helen from all sides.
As Michael and Ben trailed behind, Helen descended the stairs. She shook hands, clasped arms, waved, looking for all the world like a politician or like royalty. She had been both in her time, without the titles, but with the jobs, and she was milking that experience now for all it was worth.
Helen turned off the staircase when they reached the Mall. The entire place was jammed. Parents held their children on their shoulders. People whistled through their teeth and waved as Helen worked her way through, laughing and trying to shush the crowd, shouting she had something to say.
A space cleared in front of them. Someone shoved a table forward. Ben saw what was coming and held Helen’s hand while she stepped up on a chair and then up onto the table, turning it into an impromptu dais with himself and Michael flanking her like an honor guard.
Now, Helen’s arm-waving could be seen, and silence spread out from around her like a wave. She looked small up there, but pride gave her stature. Pride and confidence. Helen knew exactly what she was doing, or at least she thought she did. Michael glanced at the public screens and there was Helen. Someone had been on the ball and gotten the cameras going.
“You have already heard that I cut the line on the C.A.C.,” said Helen, loud enough to be heard over the ambi
ent noise of the gathering. “Now I want you to hear why.”
Yes, tell us why, Grandma Helen, thought Michael as he felt his neck muscles tense.
“I did it because they were about to remove from us the one right we have always had. The right to conduct our lives, our work, as we see fit. They intend to tell us what to think about the new race of people who have come to our world. Our world, not their world. They have not spoken with these new people. They have not listened to them. But we have. We know that they are scientists and explorers, just as we are. They are looking to make new homes for their people, to carry out their work and live their lives, just like we were when we created Venera forty years ago. Their world is in crisis, and they want only to alleviate that crisis.
“This is what we heard. This is what we told the C.A.C. How did they respond?” Helen spread her hands as if amazed at the wonder of it all. “They told us we knew nothing. We didn’t count. Our research, our expertise, our collective experience meant nothing, nothing at all, because we were not politicians.” She stressed the word politicians like most people stressed the word bastard.
“The politicians from Mother Earth, on the other hand, have determined that our new neighbors are dangerous, despite the fact that those neighbors have done nothing but watch us until lives were in danger. Then they intervened and saved all those who could be saved.
“But that doesn’t matter. The politicians of Earth have decided our neighbors are dangerous, so dangerous they are. Because we do not agree, because we know that judgments must be based on facts, on the evidence, not on rumor and fear, the yewners are going to invade our home, push us aside, and tell our neighbors that they must leave or die.”
She paused for breath. No one moved. No one murmured or stirred. She had them. They heard her and they understood. Only some of this had actually been said out loud by Secretary Kent, but the people around her accepted Helen’s expansions without question.
Cold fear reached inside Michael’s mind.
“To make good on this threat, they need Venera. They need our home, our equipment, the products of our sweat and our vision. They need our minds, our experience, and our inspiration. If we deny them Venera, if we deny them ourselves, they cannot threaten the murder of the only other intelligent species humanity has ever met.
“I cannot, I will not, order anyone to cooperate with this aim. I can only say I will not permit this invasion. I will not permit this usurpation of everything I have worked for. I will stand alone if I need to, but I still stand, here.” She stabbed her finger toward the floor. “On this deck which I helped build, in this place that I helped, that you helped, bring to life. No one is going to take it away from me and use it for murder, or threat of murder. No one. Ever.”
The cheer was deafening. It rang off the walls and the ceiling and reverberated through the deck. It surrounded the people who thrust fists into the air, hugged each other, stomped their feet, clapped hands, babbled out their agreement. A few, a very few, Michael noticed, stood stock still, their eyes cast down and their faces pale. A very few had the good sense to stand in the presence of that speech and be afraid.
And you? he asked himself as he watched the storm of energy and anger pouring out around him. She’s doing it. She’s starting her own little dictatorship right here. Look at it. The first steps have already been taken. What are you going to do about it?
Michael searched the crowd for familiar faces, looking to see what friends and colleagues were doing. A shock of fear ran through him. He couldn’t recognize anybody. They’d been transformed out of all recognition by their excitement, by Helen.
I can’t even see Jolynn. Where’s Jolynn?
Helen held up her hands for silence. It took a moment, but the crowd quieted down and turned its attention fully on her again.
“This is not going to be easy. This is not going to be without risk. The C.A.C. is sending up the military to take Venera from us. They’ve threatened a trade embargo and a complete communications shutdown. If we’re going to resist, we’re going to be placing ourselves and our children in danger.
“I do not want anyone at risk who does not believe in what we are doing. I do not want any children at risk at all. The Queen Isabella enters high orbit tomorrow, and they will take with them anyone who wants to leave.
“We only have a few days to perform an evacuation and set our defense plans into motion. Fortunately, we only need a few days. I want everyone to consider their lives, their needs, and their beliefs and then make up their minds. No judgment will be cast on anyone who wants to leave. If you cannot support us honestly, then you are better off elsewhere, and we are better off with you elsewhere.”
Silence. Some shuffling feet and rustling cloth and a few coughs, but mostly profound, attentive silence.
“Finally, let me say this. Our new neighbors have promised to help us. We are not alone in what we do. We will never be alone and at anyone’s mercy again.”
Another cheer, just as deafening, just as prolonged, and just as transforming. Michael looked from Helen, who looked grimly satisfied with her work, to Ben standing beside her. Ben’s face was flushed, but not with anger. This time it was with an unfamiliar excitement, as if he were looking forward to what was coming next.
Suddenly Michael couldn’t stand it anymore. He turned on his heel and walked away. He didn’t know if Helen or Ben looked after him. He didn’t care. He was barely aware of the touch of bodies against him as he pushed his way toward the stairs. He had to get out of the hall, away from the crowd of strangers around Helen.
Where is Jolynn?
The residential corridors were empty. Everyone who hadn’t crammed into the Mall was in their rooms, he supposed, watching the spectacle.
Stop. Wait. Michael made himself halt. He stood there, hand on the wall, feeling the slight padding of the soundproofing under his fingers, as if it would keep him grounded and remind him where he really was and what was really going on.
Jolynn is at home. She’s with the kids. Everything is okay. He took a deep breath. You need to work out what you’re doing. Are you just following along, or are you going to make your own plans?
Like talking to Veronica Hatch about the possibility of useful action?
He barely knew Dr. Hatch. There were a thousand other people he would have rather had on the tip of his mind right now. But she was outside it. She didn’t have the visceral connection to Venera that almost everyone else here did. Even more important, she’d actually talked to the aliens. She was on the front lines of the whole mess, at least when it came to information, and information was what he needed if he were going to explode Helen’s inspirational speech.
He redirected his steps, up one level and around one of the inner corridor rings until he stood in front of Dr. Hatch’s guest quarters. The door scanned him and opened automatically.
You were expected, he thought as he went inside.
Dr. Hatch sat cross-legged on her bed, doing something with her briefcase. She looked up as he came in but did not look surprised.
“That was quick,” she said, shutting the briefcase down. “Thank you for coming.”
Michael nodded and took a seat on the desk chair. “What did you want to talk about, Dr. Hatch?”
She met his gaze, and he knew what she saw. She saw fear and she saw anger. She probably even saw disbelief at the display he had just witnessed. How had it happened? How had it gotten so bad so fast?
“We need help with a little espionage,” said Dr. Hatch.
“We?”
She nodded. “Me and Dr. Kenyon.” Dr. Hatch leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “We’ve got to talk to the People, without your friends on the governing board knowing about it.”
“We do?” Michael’s eyebrows lifted.
Dr. Hatch frowned, hard. “Look, the People don’t know what they’re getting dragged into. They haven’t been told. It sounds like we’re asking them for more rescue help or maybe a technology exchange, n
ot help dealing with an invasion. We’re playing games with them. It is not fair and it is not right.”
“What the aliens think is the least of our problems,” said Michael, remembering the crowd cheering Helen on. Helen didn’t know what was really going on. She hadn’t heard him the first time. That was the only answer. He could walk in there and show her again what Ben had done, what Grace had done, and then, and then…
And then what? She’d be alone in the Throne Room, with him, and what would he say to her then? How would he stop this, stop her? What if he said the wrong thing and she decided he was a traitor and should be put on the ship as well? Would she think to send Jolynn and the boys with him? Would he have to ask to be allowed to remain with his family?
Michael didn’t know if he could stand that.
I can’t believe I’m even thinking like this. Holy God, what’s happening to us?
“What the aliens think is the least of our problems, is it?” Dr. Hatch was asking as she raised her own eyebrows, in mockery of his own expression, Michael suspected. “This is all happening because of the People. Because the People came here. Because Helen and Ben think they have the People’s support for what they’re doing. Without the aliens—” she waved her hand—“poof! Nothing happens, except the exposure of a little well-perpetrated fraud.”
“So what do you want to tell them?” asked Michael. “Sit back while we sort this out?”
“Essentially.” Dr. Hatch dropped her hand back onto her knee. “They understand politics. If we tell them this is a political debate that needs to be resolved, I think they’ll give us the time.”
“This is a little more than a political debate.” A little more? Who am I trying to kid?
“Let me talk to them,” said Dr. Hatch, low and earnest. “Let me get them to talk to you. Together we can at least try to pull them out of the equation. Without them, Failia and Godwin will have to deal with the U.N., because without the People, Venera cannot make a real stand.”
Michael chewed the inside of his lip and turned the idea over in his mind. Hatch and Kenyon. Josh he had known for years. He was steady, quiet, uncomplicated. He did his work and he went home. Dr. Hatch acted like a fool some days, but she was the one who spotted that the Discovery was fraudulent.