by L S Roebuck
“He has to stay on Sonnet,” Boro said. “If Dek is on board, I don’t know if you could keep the crew from freeing him.”
“Would Magellan just send the American Spirit back on its original mission to Earth?” Lydia asked. “If they sent the American Spirit back to us, would they just execute the exiles? I mean, they did try to commit mutiny? If Dek is actually back on Magellan, is he as good as dead?”
“Good riddance,” Wong offered a morose smile at the thought of Dek finally being shown a Magellan airlock for all his misdeeds.
“Dek is staying here, because we’re not sending the American Spirit back. Not yet. Not till we’ve finished our mission and have the materials needed,” Amberly said. “If the American Spirit shows up now, without Dek as captain, which everyone believes he is, without half the flotilla that left to rescue it, people are going to realize that there is something weird going on. They are going to wonder where I am. One of those persons could be a Chasm sympathizer. We’d blow our cover. We have to get the tight beam fixed so we can resume our confidential communications with Magellan. That is the only path forward, people.”
Skip raised a scrawny arm to get Amberly’s attention.
“Yes, Skip,” Amberly called him out.
“None of this makes sense,” he said, shaking his shiny black bowl-cut hair. “I’ve been auditing the communication logs since I arrived, and it just feels like something is missing. I sort of have that feeling like when I suspected those encrypted files back on Magellan were trouble. And we found out they were for … Dek. Only that was back when Dek was still a bad guy.” Skip felt like he just put his foot in his mouth. He turned to Lydia and shrugged. His girlfriend replied with a don’t-worry-about-it smile.
“What do you mean, it doesn’t make sense?” Amberly said.
“Well,” Skip tapped his infopad which threw up a magnetic resonance projection so everyone in the room could see. “Look at the patterns. Regular reports from Moreno for the first five months of your mission. Clockwork. Then the reports become more irregular, and then they almost disappeared entirely just before the American Spirit arrived.”
“Maybe the Marine Commander just wasn’t feeling as chatty as she used to,” Wong suggested.
“Maybe,” Skip said.
“Well, Rita is pretty consistent,” Boro suggested.
“I did notice that Commander Moreno had stopped replying to my reports,” Amberly said.
“I noticed that in the log, too,” Skip said. “Well, you know bandwidth is precious, so I wondered what Magellan was filling that unused data space, where Moreno’s replies used to be.”
“What did you find? Extra stellar data? More personal message allocations?”
“There are no personal messages on this mission, Amberly. Top secret, remember?” Skip reminded.
“So, what did you find?”
“I found nothing.”
“Nothing?” Skylar asked. “Skip, you are losing your touch.”
“Yes, but something did use the bandwidth,” Skip said. “I also noticed that the fake system logs we had been transferring back to Magellan, the ones they would use to make it look like you were rescuing the American Spirit with the others instead of gathering supplies here on Sonnet, had been truncated. Cut off.”
“Why would that happen?” Boro asked.
“Well, the bandwidth is limited and completely spoken for. No space for anything extra. The only thing I can think of is someone has slipped an extra message in there, and it bumped the logs slightly.”
“Holy God,” Lydia said. “Someone has been sending secret messages back to Magellan?”
“A spy, here?” Amberly said.
Skip put his hands up. “Well, wait, I’m not entirely sure. It could be –”
“Which means most certainly there is a spy on Magellan, too.” Skylar said. “We have to warn them. I have to warn them. As a member of the Magellan Council, it’s my obligation to –”
“Skip, I want you to find out exactly what has been transmitted,” Amberly said.
“I’ll need mission commander clearance,” Skip explained. “They don’t normally let us comm officers read other people’s messages just for fun.”
“I’ll have Verne get you my access credentials,” Amberly said. “How long will it take you?”
“Well, if I had Skylar to help me review the logs,” Skip replied, “it could help cut the time in half.”
“Sorry. Captain Trigs needs to begin his preparations to return the American Spirit to Magellan,” Amberly said.
“Wait, what?” Skylar looked at his bride-to-be and smiled. “You mean it?”
“We haven’t been in contact with Magellan for months. Who knows what the Hawk who has been receiving info about us will think now that we’ve gone silent. She may be preparing sabotage or mischief already on our waypoint. Hopefully, Skip will confirm the identity of any Hawks on Magellan after he sifts through these phantom transmissions.”
“Oh, heck,” Skip said. “Sabotage. Someone must have sabotaged the tight beam. They cut us off on purpose. We may be too late. Amberly, you’re right. We need to send the American Spirit now.”
“You won’t regret it,” Skylar said.
“Of course, someone has been deliberately corrupting the tight beam software,” Kuuku agreed. “Must be sabotage.”
“Then we have a traitor in our midst,” Boro said, and suddenly everyone started looking around at their colleagues at the table.
“I’ll get to work rooting out the mole,” Trot said quickly. “But we’ll need to keep the fact we may have a mole to ourselves. If we do have a mole, and the mole knows we are onto them, he may go to ground.”
“Okay, we have our work to do,” Amberly said. She stood up, and everyone else followed her cue. “Skip, the minute you confirm our theory, you report directly to me.”
“I don’t see how it could be anything else,” Skylar said.
“Trot,” Amberly looked at Kora’s husband. “Begin your investigation. If you even suspect you have someone who is good for the crime, you have my permission to stun and interrogate. But keep this on the down low. Wong, you better stick closely with Trot and watch his back. If we have a mole, and they get wind we are looking for her, then Trot may need some security.”
“I agree,” Wong said.
“Skylar,” Amberly said. “Get the American Spirit ready to fly. Keep the prep on a need-to-know basis. Don’t let the crew and passengers know what is going on until the last possible moment.”
“What about Dek?” Snodgrass asked.
“Grab a few Marines and transfer him to the American Spirit brig,” Amberly said with conviction.
“Yes ma’am,” Snodgrass was impressed with Amberly’s command of the unfolding situation. Up to this point, he took her for someone mired with too much uncertainty, but now he saw what Moreno and Rillio saw in her.
“Wong, I am going to reassign you to be Security Chief for American Spirit,” Amberly said with a tone that made Wong realize this wasn’t up for debate. “Boro, you’ll take over security here until the American Spirit returns.”
“But– I–” Boro stammered. The thought of being cooped up on Fuentes Station for months when he could be getting back to Magellan depressed him. “Yes ma’am.”
Amberly stepped to Skylar and kissed him. “Hurry back. When you return, why don’t we have Ramos marry us?”
“Why not get married before I go?” Skylar smiled, as he ran his fingers though his fiancée’s short red hair.
“Don’t push it,” Amberly smiled back. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
Skip was almost to the main deck elevator when Skylar caught up with him.
“Skip, you are in a hurry,” Skylar observed.
“Well, you heard Amberly,” Skip said. “I have all the transmissions copied to the communication workstation on Fuentes Station. And now that I have clearance, I should be able to figure who has been hijacking our tight beam transmissions.”
“And what they have been saying,” Skylar added. “I’m glad I caught you. I pulled all the encryption processors from Fuentes Station to see if I could figure out why the Tight Beam wasn’t working. They are in the captain’s quarters here on American Spirit. You should grab them before you head back to the station.”
“Yeah, okay. I’m glad you caught me, too,” Skip said. “I would have hated to have had to walk all the way back up to the ship once I am on station.”
“Still so lazy,” Skylar joked. “Come on. I was headed to my quarters now anyway.”
Outside the conference room, after the ad hoc council had dispersed, Amberly called Midas and Ramos in.
“Ramos,” Amberly smiled at the clergyman. She hadn’t really interacted with Ramos much after her father disappeared, but knew her father trusted him. “I need you to do me a favor. But first, I need you both to understand this conversation is confidential.”
Midas and Ramos both nodded.
“With Skylar gone, I don’t really trust that I can manage Wong,” Amberly explained. “And honestly, I’m still a little scared that Wong will forget his promise and could hurt me. So, I’m sending him with the American Spirit. Boro, on the other hand, I trust with my life.”
“I understand, sweetie,” Midas said. “I’m sorry you are in a position to feel that way. I wish Wong –”
“Don’t have any pity for me. I deserve Wong’s ire,” Amberly rebuffed her advisor and janitor. “But I also have a mission to accomplish.”
“How can I help, Amberly?” Ramos asked.
“I need you to both to make sure that Dek makes it safe to Magellan. I’ve ordered Skylar to allow you to visit Dek again, Ramos.”
“Thank you.”
“Anyway, I need you both to be quiet eyes and ears for me, keep everyone honest. Midas, look after Ramos. Ramos, look after Dek. It’s that simple,” Amberly said and looked at both men with fondness. “Pastor, my dad really respected you a lot. He always said that you were a ‘prophet preaching the truth.’ I’m sorry I never got to know you better.”
“You’re sounding like one of us is going to die,” Ramos smiled. “I don’t think it’s our time yet.”
“A prophecy?” Midas asked.
“Meh,” Ramos shrugged.
“Midas, I want you to take this message and make sure that you give this directly to Moreno,” Amberly said. “Don’t let anyone else see it. Not even Skylar.” Amberly handed Midas a small message chit.
“Keeping secrets from your husband is not a good idea,” Midas warned.
“He’s not my husband, yet,” Amberly reminded him, “but get back soon, because I am inviting you to the wedding.”
Amberly hugged Ramos, then Midas. “Midas, you’re like a grandfather to me. Thank you both.”
Midas wiped a tear from his eye and offered a bittersweet smile. “Aw, shoot. You made me cry.”
He paused, then said. “I’m not that old.”
Ramos shot an incredulous look at Midas.
“Okay, okay, I’m that old.”
Snodgrass offered his security credentials to the Marine on duty at the makeshift brig on Fuentes Station. The original designers of the outpost did not anticipate the need for incarceration, so essentially Dek had been confined to a one-room apartment, where he had been visited by Wong, who had delivered him food once a day.
As the door opened, Dek immediately recognized the XO and smiled. He looked at the Marine guards with him, frowned and instinctively grabbed at his neck.
“Not yet, captain,” Snodgrass told Dek. “But we are taking you back to solitary on the American Spirit.”
“Where are we going?” Dek asked.
“Sorry, captain, that’s on a need to know basis.”
“He’s not the captain, sir,” one of the Marines corrected Snodgrass. The XO turned and faced the Marine, a hint of rage flashed in the corner of his eyes, betraying his otherwise calm demeanor.
“Who gave you permissions to speak, private piss-ant,” Snodgrass said evenly.
“I’m sorry sir,” the Marine said, barely able to hide his own indignation. “And the name is Stewart, not piss-ant.”
“Private Piss-ant, the next time you feel the need to correct your XO in front of the captain, I’ll make sure you are assigned extra recycle sorting duty for a month or two. Do I make myself clear, Private Piss-ant?”
“Yes sir,” Stewart replied.
Snodgrass turned back to Dek and handed him a small plastic pouch. “Grab whatever personal affects you can fit in here and let’s go. We’re in a hurry. You have a date with Ramos.”
“I feel like I should be excited, but I am not sure why,” Dek said, and then turned to Stewart. “Don’t worry about the XO, Stewart. He’s all bark and no bite. And thanks for the escort.”
Snodgrass frowned. Then snickered a bit.
“You know, I’ve never been to the captain’s quarters on American Spirit,” Skip told his former boss as they paced down the small hallway through the executive housing suites on the highest deck of the American Spirit. “I bet it’s pretty sweet. Am I right?”
“It’s sufficient,” Skylar said, monotonously. The unexpected tone made Skip look over at his fellow comm officer and notice perspiration beading under the golden locks swaying over Skylar’s forehead.
“Are you feeling okay?” Skip asked.
Skylar stopped and looked at Skip. Skylar would have never said it, but he never really cared for the awkward simpleton. Skip was already annoying, though Skylar feigned friendliness with him for years. His growing relationship with Lydia made him more insufferable. He forced himself to smile.
“I’m fine, Skip,” Skylar said. “I guess I am just a bit nervous about taking the American Spirit out as captain. Obviously, I’ve never commanded anything so big before. And I’m worried about Amberly when I am gone. I mean, there may be a mole among us, and maybe when I am gone, he’ll try to kill Amberly.”
“Boro can take care of Amberly,” Skip reassured Skylar. “He’s pretty tough.”
They arrived at the captain’s quarters, and after Skylar provided his biometrics, the door offered access to what Skip thought was a disappointingly modest apartment.
“I’ve been thinking about the mole,” Skip said as he surveyed the apartment, looking for the encryption processors. He saw a small, Japanese-themed kitchen with a re-heater and a vintage beverage dispenser. Otherwise the place was unremarkable, even lacking windows. “I mean, whoever this person is, they have to know how to access and use the main communications console. They’d have to be pretty knowledgeable in tight beam protocol to be able to insert and remove data segments. I guess that would really limit down the number of people who the mole could be to — oh snap.” Skip looked at Skylar who had a stun gun drawn on him.
“Which is why I am going to arrest you, Chasm mole,” Skylar said. “Right after I stun you.”
“I am not Chasm,” Skip said flippantly, though nervously eyeing Skylar’s stun gun. Skip had been stunned before, and it wasn’t an experience he wanted to repeat. “That’s ridiculous. Ask Amberly. She knows.”
“Well, I probably should have asked her,” Skylar smirked. “But unfortunately, we were pretty far along on our way to Magellan when we found you, a stow away, sabotaging American Spirit. And with the tight beam not working, we couldn’t check with her without breaking radio silence. Too bad; she might have exonerated you. But she would understand, that as captain, I had to work to eliminate the Chasm threat, so we tossed you out the airlock.”
“Now wait, just a minute, you’ve got this all wrong,” Skip said, backing up against a Wagara-patterned padded wall. “Oh, wait. You are the Chasm operative, aren’t you? Of course. Only you would be able to pull this off. And me. And I know I didn’t do it. I’m such an idiot. And now you’ve lured me into a quiet place, no witnesses –”
“Shut up! You are so annoying,” Skylar shouted.
“And you are so arrogant, pretty boy,” Skip s
hot back.
“You take me for an ordinary … boy? A mere Chasm operative? I am a Hawk. Feeding info about our progress to my comrades on Magellan was easy enough. As was feeding false information to Moreno. Keeping Amberly from Moreno’s response to my false reports just required some deleting. But Magellan can’t know the American Spirit is coming until it is too late, and the only way to make sure that happened was to disable both the tight beams –”
Skip dove for the re-heater and tossed the heavy cooker as hard as he could at Skylar’s head. Skylar easily stepped out of the way, and the he put three stun bolts into Skip.
“Owwww….” Skip slurred as he convulsed into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Skylar sat in on the bridge of the American Spirit, his mind racing. Decades of training, planning and hiding in plain sight. His whole life, he had been waiting for the moment when he could bring victory to his glorious Chairman. As a teenager, he’d sworn fealty to her, the coming utopia, where he was sure he would have a bright place building perfection.
And no one ever suspected he was a Chasm Hawk until now, until it was too late.
He looked around the scarred bridge and thought about all the people who had been master of the American Spirit since its first visit to Magellan nearly seven years ago. In the last eight years, many had sat in chair he now occupied: Lars Olaf; Chasm undercover operative Järvinen; Chasm agent Sparks, Raven One, a.k.a. Kimberly Macready, April Eaton, Himari Grace, Dek Tigona, and now Skylar Trigs.
Being captain of the American Spirit meant you had a short life expectancy. Of the seven previous captains, only Sparks and Tigona still drew breath.