Theroux shrugged. “It’s not against the rules.”
“It’s against custom and practice,” Kenzy said. “And those bastards never do anything without a reason.”
“Does anyone?” he said. “Pretty much by definition.”
“Something wily and oriental,” Kenzy said, and shook her head pityingly. “Probably too subtle for the American mind.”
Theroux shrugged, and sighed. “So, if making this guy Base Co-ordinator is the first step on the road to world domination, and they don’t come right out and admit it, right there over the soya snacks and fruit juice, then basically I’m screwed.” He started towards the doors. “Any unsubtle messages, you know where I’ll be.”
“Listen, I’m a hero, not a fucking receptionist and filing clerk,” Kenzy complained again.
“You’ve got to stop playing those press conferences vids,” Theroux said without looking back.
“Maybe I should give another one,” Kenzy called after him, “tell the world how our beloved leader is treating the Moon Shuttle hijack hero.”
“Bent cop reinstated, praises tolerance of boss, that sort of thing?”
“Fuck you, smart arse,” Kenzy muttered.
Theroux stopped in the doorway. “Fuck you, Chief Superintendent smartass.” He was grinning. “Unless you want to join Kirk Hubble in the ranks of the ex-cops?”
“Hubble was gutless,” Kenzy said. “And witless. Even for an American.”
“He was smart enough to recognize a losing hand when he was dealt one.”
“Meaning I’m not?”
“Are you?”
“I’ll play these.”
Theroux nodded. “I had a feeling you weren’t.”
“No-one pushes me into resigning.”
“I’m impressed.”
“And in charge,” Kenzy mocked. “And there was me thinking the good Commander had no sense of humour.”
“Where you’re concerned, he doesn’t, Kenzy.”
“Unlike you. You think it’s all a big joke, don’t you?”
“Frankly my dear,” Theroux said doing his best Clark Gable imitation, “I don’t give a damn.” Then, stepping past the first door, he continued in the same voice, “Strange girl. Only one I ever met who enjoyed filing enough to spend the rest of their life doing it.”
“Yes, Kenzy?” Nathan peered at the small face which glowered out at him from the screen on the orbit shuttle’s instrument panel.
“I’m going to resign, sir.”
“Fine,” Nathan said. This was his preferred solution to the problem she posed but he was surprised that she had given up so easily. “Get a hard copy, sign it and have the signature witnessed, leave it on my workstation.” The pilot, pretending not to listen, looked surprised and Nathan realized that his response must have sounded pretty casual, brutal even.
“You didn’t let me finish, Commander,” Kenzy protested. “What I was about to say is that I’m going to resign unless I get something more interesting to do.”
Nathan was even more offhand. “Fine. Get a hard copy, sign it and have the signature witnessed, leave it on my workstation.” He could have told himself he was being cruel to be kind, but he suspected he was just being cruel. Truth was, he resented the woman. There was corruption in every organisation, it was natural, but just because it was natural that didn’t mean you had to live with it. Except that because of her, it seemed, he did.
“Yeah, well, that’s obviously shaken you to the core,” she said.
“I don’t want you to have any illusions about your future.”
“I reckon the press might find your attitude interesting.”
“I think the press are about as reliable as you are.”
“I’m not resigning, Commander.”
“And about as consistent.”
“If you want to get rid of me you’re going to have to fire me.”
“Yes,” Nathan said and leaned away to look out of the forward observation port. He didn’t expect to be able to see the Ronald Reagan yet, the signal from the radar beacon put it well beyond line of sight, but the move took him out of screen vision. Without bothering to move back, he asked, “Now, is there something else, Kenzy, or did you call simply to play musical resignations?”
“Your ETA?”
“As logged.”
“Any other orders?”
“Theroux’s giving the orders. If you’ve got a problem with that –”
“Get a hard copy, sign it and have the signature witnessed, leave it on your workstation.”
Nathan leaned back and glared at the screen. “And Kenzy, I don’t want any more nonsense like this while I’m talking to the Americans.”
“You don’t want me to call you at work, dear?”
“Don’t push it, Inspector,” Nathan said. “I let you off once but I don’t intend to make a habit of it,” and he broke the connection.
“You smug bastard!” Kenzy raged at the blank screen.
Behind her a voice said, “Unforgiving soul, our Commander Spring.”
Kenzy turned to find Colin Devis smirking his chubby smile. “How long have you been there?” she demanded.
“Private row, was it?”
“There’s one thing I really don’t like about you, Colin,” she said.
Devis said, “Only one? This could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”
“You’re one of nature’s lurkers.”
“That’s it?” His smile broadened and his eyes almost disappeared. “I married five wives with more objections to my character than that.”
“Not all women are bright,” Kenzy said and cued her workscreen.
“Be nice to me,” said Devis, moving close behind her and breathing on her neck, “and I’ll put in a word for you with the Man.”
Kenzy did not react, but said flatly, “I can put in my own word, thanks all the same.”
Devis shrugged, and went to get coffee. “Suit yourself, but I can’t see ‘smug bastard’ having the effect you’re looking for,” he said. “Try waggling your bum, that’s probably your best bet.”
“Worked for you did it?” she said, adding, “Get that, will you?” as the message icon began to flash on the main communications screen.
“Sorry,” Devis said, “I’m off-shift. Don’t start for another four hours. I only came in hoping for a grope.”
“A lazy pervert,” Kenzy said.
“Cuddly, though. Very cuddly,” said Devis, leaving with his coffee.
Kenzy keyed the communications link and said automatically, “Star Cops Headquarters, Inspector Pal Kenzy –” and stopped as Theroux appeared on screen.
“Listen,” he said, keeping his voice low and leaning in so that his face almost filled the frame, “he wants to visit us.”
Behind him, Kenzy caught glimpses of the guests milling about in the Secretariat reception suite. Among the token efforts to give the occasion the appropriate look, several Chinese had been drafted in from somewhere to act as waiters, and she could see them scurrying about with trays of ethnic looking snacks. “Do we care a lot?” she asked.
“Just warning you, is all,” he said quietly.
She bristled. “Warning me?”
Theroux looked exasperated. “Alerting you, for Chrissakes. Don’t be so touchy.”
“Okay, so I’m alerted. What do you expect me to do now, rush round with a duster, change my underwear, what?”
“Try looking busy,” Theroux said, and broke the connection.
The Ronald Reagan was more imposing than its computer-manipulated graphic, which made Nathan wonder why their publicity people hadn’t used actual images. Presumably there was a reason, just as there would be a reason why his shuttle had been routed to
red three-four, one of the outermost docking locks, normally used for off-loading construction materials.
“If you’d put us any further out,” the pilot had remarked when he received his instructions, “we’d be building the damn dock ourselves.” But the irritation was wasted on a traffic control computer that was only following orders, as it politely pointed out.
“Can you get resupplied from here?” Nathan asked as he disembarked.
“Oh yeah, that’s no problem,” the pilot said. “The problem is it’s a major trek to administration, or any of the messes, or anywhere. Always assuming you can find what you’re looking for. They keep adding to the damn place. It’s a regular labyrinth.”
Nathan pushed his bag through the hatch and floated feet first after it. “I imagine they’ve got indicators of some sort,” he said.
“Only the strictly no entry kind.”
“Whatever’s left must be the way, then,” Nathan said, and smiled. “Sherlock Holmes school of navigation.”
The pilot grinned. “Good luck, Commander.”
Minutes later, Nathan was lost.
As lost as he could ever remember being.
Jiang Li Ho was more than six feet tall, heavyset and cheerfully extrovert: a combination which tended to disconcert people, most of whom, it seemed, still thought of Chinese as short, skinny and inscrutable. In his sixty years, Ho had learned to exploit the surprise his appearance engendered and he used it shamelessly to take the initiative in meetings and negotiations. It helped to make him a successful career scientist and a formidable politician. Now, as he followed Theroux into the main office, he was chuckling disarmingly.
Kenzy took her feet off the workstation just quickly enough to avoid being obviously discourteous, and stood up slowly.
Ho beamed and bustled across to her. “You are Inspector Pal Kenzy. I saw your news conference and read of your bravery,” he said, taking her hand and making a small formal bow. “I am Jiang Li Ho and it is my great honour to meet you in, if you will pardon my boldness, the flesh.”
He managed, without leering or stressing the word, to make ‘flesh’ sound disgraceful and funny. Kenzy was struck by how big the man was – and how cheering. She smiled. “I’m pleased to meet you, sir,” she said, and was surprised to find that she actually meant it.
Ho looked serious. “It has long been my view,” he said, “that popular entertainment has trivialized courage to the point that we no longer value it as we should.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Kenzy said. “I’m certainly undervalued.”
Ho said, “Most people who come out here are,” and, turning with practised charm to include Theroux in the conversation, added, “Are they not, David?”
Theroux looked at Kenzy and said, “Some more than others.”
Ho began to wander about the office, peering unselfconsciously at the equipment. “The ISPF is a most important organisation,” he said, “most important. There is always a criminal element. In all societies. This one is no different.”
“Where there’s living, there’s policemen,” said Theroux. “The gospel according to Nathan Spring.”
“Ah yes,” said Ho pausing in his examination of a workstation. “You said the reason for Commander Spring’s absence…?”
Theroux said, “He’s away working, sir.”
“On the Americans,” Kenzy put in.
“Is there a problem with your countrymen, David?”
The question was a delicate combination of curiosity and polite concern. It fooled Theroux completely. “No, sir, no problem. It’s just a routine meeting,” he said.
“I see,” Ho said gravely. “So a routine meeting with the Americans is more important than a first meeting with me.” It was an awkward moment. Theroux wasn’t sure whether Ho was serious or not. He hesitated. Kenzy caught his eye. She looked amused at his discomfiture.
“Is that what you are telling me?” Ho continued.
Theroux said, “Well, it’s not entirely routine, sir. There’s a slight problem about putting Star Cops on American stations.”
“They won’t let us,” Kenzy said grinning.
Ho looked towards the coffee percolator. “It is said,” he said, “that this office has the best coffee on Moonbase.”
“May we offer you a cup?” Theroux asked, his relief obvious.
“That would be most pleasant,” said Jiang Li Ho smiling.
Theroux glanced at Kenzy, but thought better of it and hurried to pour the coffee himself.
It had taken Nathan nearly two hours to find his way to the administration office and then to Mess Room One. Here, he was told, he would find the station commander, a former air force colonel named Max Moriarty, playing pool. It was Colonel Moriarty’s unswerving habit to play pool at this time every day; apparently he was the undefeated station champion and he practised hard to maintain his position.
Nathan floated just inside the entrance and looked round. The mess was certainly a strikingly large and luxurious set-up. A lot of effort and launch weight had been wasted in what was obviously intended to be a demonstration of power and success. It was designed to be an exact replica of an Earthside saloon. The decor, furniture and fittings all looked authentic, indeed most of them were, and no expense had been spared to disguise all the effects of weightlessness. Gimmicks abounded: from the simplest fixing down of beer mats to mechanically reactive light fittings which swung if pushed. There was even low alcohol beer on tap with an ingenious system of shaped tubes and sealed glasses that allowed it to look as though it was being drawn and served normally. The ultimate triumph, however, was a pool table which stood in the centre of the room and played exactly as though it was in a one-G environment. Nathan realized that with all this attention to detail, his remaining in the doorway without bothering to stand on the floor would probably look impolite; it might even look like mockery. Several people glanced in his direction. “You wanna ground your feet there buddy?” one of them called out to a ragged chorus of agreement from around the room. Nathan ignored them, and deliberately tugged himself forward into a slow drift towards the pool table. A short stocky man, square headed and thick necked was bent over it practising shots. When Nathan reached the table, the man said, without looking up, “Welcome to the Ronald Reagan, Commander Spring. I apologize for not being at the airlock to greet you personally.”
“No need to apologize, Colonel Moriarty,” Nathan said. “I can see you’re busy.” Moriarty missed his shot and as he straightened up Nathan added, “Besides, it was a fairly remote airlock,” and smiled his best smile.
“Remote?” Moriarty exclaimed unconvincingly. “goddammit, I gave instructions that your shuttle was to get a priority docking.” He stared fiercely round the room and then shouted at a young black woman who was standing at the bar. “Billy! What the hell is it with you people in traffic?”
“Is there a problem, M-M?” she asked politely.
“This man is an important European police officer. How come he gets routed to a cargo dock? I mean for Chrissakes, red three-four?” He smiled at Nathan. “That is where you said you were sent, Commander?”
They both knew he hadn’t, of course, and as a way of putting him in his place it was a bit crude Nathan thought. “Don’t concern yourself, Colonel,” he said, and nodded in the woman’s direction. “No problem.”
“If you’re sure, sir,” she said wryly.
An exhausted looking man joined them at the table and Moriarty introduced him as Pete Lennox. “You ready to give the Commander the ten cent tour?” Moriarty asked him.
“Not yet, M-M,” Lennox said. “I still have to get clearances from some of the contractors.”
“Well get on it, Pete. Christ, do I have to do everything myself?”
Lennox smiled tiredly. Nathan noticed that although the man was obviousl
y dog-weary, he was careful to walk out. Watching him leave Moriarty said to Nathan, “A few of our clients are nervous about who sees what they’re working on.”
“Don’t frighten them on my account,” Nathan said.
“This is a high-profile, multi-use station,” said Moriarty, “but one of the few things we’re not really able to cope with is tourists.”
“That’s all right, sir,” Nathan said. “I didn’t bring any.”
Moriarty rolled a ball across the pool table. “Do you play this game?” he asked.
Nathan smiled. “I’m still trying to work out how you do,” he said.
“It’s neat don’t you think? One of the original specialities of the station.”
“Artificial gravity for pool tables?”
Mildly irritated Moriarty said, “Solutions to the problems of weightlessness.”
Nathan aimed a ball at a pocket. It did not go down. “So how does this one work?” he asked.
“The table generates an electromagnetic field which the modified balls react to. The whole system’s balanced by an analogue computer, and the whole damn thing is totally self-contained.”
Nathan was impressed and showed it. “The control programme must be a monster,” he said.
“You’d better believe it,” said Moriarty. “That is American technology, boy, and I tell you we are still the best.”
Lennox came back into the room. He looked harassed.
“She’s on the circuit again,” he said to Moriarty.
“Not now, Pete,” Moriarty said angrily.
Lennox said, almost pleading, “She’s very insistent.”
“Christ,” said Moriarty glancing at Nathan.
“Don’t let me interrupt your work,” Nathan said.
Moriarty said, “I don’t plan to, Commander.” He heel-and-toed towards the door followed by Lennox, and added over his shoulder, “I’ll be right back.”
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