Our solution was to swap their identities, so we loaded the most important equipment into the Fairy Dust and used its scheduled refit to repaint the two ships. We had to pay premium bonuses to the maintenance crews and stevedores so they would ignore the obvious irregularities, which included a payoff to one worker who did not even show up. We sent the former Fairy Dust to L1 to refuel and to take on food for the run to the Belt. We were trading time for money under pressure and it may not have been the best decision.
Our crew could not rebook their return tickets to the Khrushchev because too many of the earth station’s senior staff were in transit. We had no priority. We had to hire a new crew from anyone available on the Khrushchev to take the former Fairy Dust to L1, sporting its freshly painted identification as the Outer Tramp. They had a terrible reputation, argumentative, unreliable people that we would normally never touch, but we believe that they did complete the trip and the ship is now safely parked at L1. Unfortunately, they left it near Titanic Station instead of Endeavor Transhipment. They never contacted us for the second half of their wages. We suspect they have hired on as cowboys with Wild Carrier Recovery, which has offices in Titanic Station. They used our one-way contract to escape into the protection of their new employers. I wish them well and hope that we never meet again.
Our crew tried to hire on as one-way crew heading for L1 from the Kamehameha. They even tried unsuccessfully to buy tickets as ordinary passengers. Ultimately, they were forced to book passage to the Moon on the last ships permitted to make that trip. If we can get them to Titanic Station, and if we can get permission to refuel and leave, they are still willing to complete the mission. Since nothing is moving anywhere, they are stuck here along with the rest of us. The best we can say is that no one is currently trying to arrest our crew.
The original Outer Tramp, repainted as the Fairy Dust, had to load the more awkward and expendable pieces of equipment. We were forced to hire smugglers to expedite the loading, using the same kinds of subterfuge they apparently use to move contraband onto Belter ships. Horrible people to work with, and it ate into our contingency funds, but at least they knew their way around inside the hull. I gather that they have disappeared as well, but not on any of our ships. I greatly fear you will next hear about them as pirates.
We also had some of the port workers reproduce and edit the recorded telemetry from the last flight of the Fairy Dust so it could be replayed from the Outer Tramp as it left the dock.
All of it was messy and illegal, but the charges we already face are more serious. I know I am confessing more than I should, but I am sure you had already realized that some skulduggery was at work. I hope it does not compromise our escape.
If anyone still cares, we found when we got here that our unreliable stevedores had loaded a few crates of their own, including a large shipment of precision firing mechanisms for TDF-grade rifles. We have stored them separately and intend to leave them here. If the TDF or Lunar Government has any use for them, we can tell you where to find them.
[Me] A few weeks ago, I would have had a lot of extremely sharp questions for you. Can you explain even partly what message Clan Kunene was attempting to send with that spectacular departure? It looked almost like a demonstration of military strength, except it did not cause any casualties and wasted most of a chunk of good uranium. If they had wanted to say, “Run for your lives, the Imperium is coming,” would it not have been easier to broadcast that over the comm?
[Emigrant1] I think I can explain part of it. They were sending an urgent warning to crews that used twenty different languages, so needed an unmistakable warning that everyone would recognize. Regardless of their factional affiliation and native language, most of the Belters were working for us and all seemed to be aware of the impending invasion. The crazy departure, the chaff, and the bomb were like firing a pre-arranged signal flare. Even we recognized that it was a warning, which is why your team was assembled.
As best I could tell, they believed we already knew what was coming. I am told that almost no one other than yourselves had any clue. Caught completely by surprise, the war should have started with the destruction of the TDF and the sacking of the earth stations. We are lucky to have lived this long.
In addition to emphasizing the urgency of the threat, they seem to have wanted to show a plausible escape route. I believe that all the Belter ships took similar routes away from the earth stations, so that part of their plan must have been worked out in advance. Any Belter ships that were not part of our organization took the warning as well and followed the same kinds of routes.
I also suspect they were trying to send a message to the Belt that they were making their escape. The ship does not have high-powered transmitters and Clan Kunene is too poor to have high-sensitivity receivers. That was part of the equipment we were bringing. However, they work with radioactive material all the time and did have the means to detect a small nuclear explosion. A bright flash of hot uranium gas is quite distinctive if anyone is looking.
[Me] I am worried, however, that your plan is incomplete in a very serious way. You were trying to be inoffensive and non-threatening by basing yourselves with small clans and making allies with the large ones, but the very nature of what you are doing is extremely threatening to anyone who cannot make use of your services immediately. They will fear that their rivals are going to gain a temporary advantage and use the time to make that advantage permanent.
You will need a much better security system to avoid becoming the target for every faction that feels deprived. LUVN is illustrating the lengths to which they will go when faced with real improvements that will be unevenly distributed.
And we have already received a credible warning that Clan Kunene may suffer a genocidal attack from Clan Vallis because of the Fairy Dust incident, with any survivors being castrated and enslaved. We do not understand their motives, but I am deeply concerned that you will be in terrible trouble if you complete this journey without an armed escort.
Have you tried to contact the Imperium directly?
[Wang] If I can be forgiven for adding to your troubles, at least one of the Belter ships that left after the Fairy Dust incident was attacked and destroyed as it approached L2. I can look up which ship it was if you are concerned. You might seriously consider surrendering yourselves to justice here on the Moon before Viceroy Wolong’s fleet arrives.
Nothing is moving in near-Earth space because of the roving bands of pirates that get worse every day. As best we can tell, most of them arrived as part of the Imperial fleet but threw off their allegiance as soon as they arrived. The TDF is stretched to the limit trying to protect the Moon, L1, and L2. I am afraid you must plan on remaining here until the current troubles are over. Even afterwards, continuing to the Belt may be suicidally dangerous. Do you have any contingency plans to set up a normal, legal service on the Moon?
There was a very long pause. I looked at MacFinn, but he sent, “NO. Too many people ha seen those documents already. Admiral Wang will na ha read em yet, but when he does he’ll ha the sense t’remain silent til the Imperium itself asks him f’help. They will ha t’call him because I’m TDF and they will ha t’contact Lunar Recovery t’recruit Kaahurangi. Wait.”
[Me] Please, Sirs, I am not being as helpful as you hoped, but you are not the only people trying to escape from a suddenly vengeful Earth. It may be that we can find a common solution. If nothing else, the current halt in regular commerce must end quickly or there will be real trouble everywhere. May I have time to think about this and get back to you?
[Emigrant1] Please, any advice you can give will be appreciated. It was bad when we faced disgrace and retraining for our offences. Wolong has been executing so many people, we have reason to fear the worst. We are getting very desperate. We will wait for your call, but some of us may have to flee in the next few days and we have no way to leave the Moon.
[Me] While you are waiting, I strongly recommend that you redouble your efforts to contact the
Imperium through Viceroy Fenghuang. Tell them you wish to emigrate, to become one of them. Tell them that you have been working with Clan Kunene for the first of several teaching hospitals as part of the new Hope University, which you have already incorporated. It is important that you have already taken that first step, an earnest of intent, so to speak. Tell them about genetic treatments for otherwise incurable diseases, which the Earth refuses to provide even for their own people. That too is important, if only in the sense of a factional rivalry. If you have real contacts for prospective students, mention them. Ask them for advice on widening the list of students to as many factions as possible.
And be sure to tell them that you have heard a rumour about a genocidal threat against Clan Kunene. Clans Sghiidagits and Hangzhou may also be under threat. Only the Imperium has the power and the authority to protect its own citizens. They are the only ones able to get there in time. If you demonstrate concern for the lives of their citizens and not just your own, you may find them more receptive to your plea.
[Emigrant3] Oh! Thank you. We have been paralyzed by our own plight, but you are absolutely right. We should have thought of that approach. I should have thought of it. It will be good to care about somebody else again. I cannot express my gratitude enough. We will await your call if any other ideas come up.
They closed the connection. Behind me, MacFinn groaned quietly.
Wang said, “You have something in mind that I probably won’t like. I could order you to tell me.”
“No, Sir,” I replied. “There is too much at stake to distract you with half-baked notions that don’t make sense even to me. Is it still possible to speak with the Banshees?”
MacFinn moaned, “Two proposals f’hospitals. Every halfwit admin knows that if two boxes in an org chart are labelled ‘hospital’ it’d be more efficient to make one box labelled ‘hospital’. I’ll ha t’warn Leigh so he can prepare for it. We were hopin t’start here, where we ha the best control over what happens, but now we may ha t’start from scratch in the Belt, wi no supplies, surrounded by enemies, and wi no one t’defend us. Lad, I’m havin a nightmare while I’m still awake.”
I pasted on my best fake smile and replied, “Surgeon MacFinn, you surely will start here, on the Moon and immediately after receiving permission. The place by now will be full of wounded Imperial soldiers. The fleet can supply any number of medics, healers, shamans and whatever other forms of surgical skill they provide. All you need is a few rooms in one wing of a hospital and some administrators.
“I agree that you need to warn Surgeon Kaahurangi, but only as a heads-up to distinguish your program from theirs. They are aimed at very different goals.
“You want conventional surgery with advanced tools and culturally adaptable post-operative treatment. You do NOT want to go to the Belt and the TDF still has the authority to refuse the request if the Imperium makes it. In fact, Admiral Wang obviously wants nothing to do with Hope University’s genetic treatments and would refuse to consider a proposal to include genetic treatments in your service.
“They want advanced genetic treatments with general medicine as a sweetener. They cannot stay where any Terrestrial authority can reach them and are fully prepared to leave. The Belt will want that service desperately, probably more than they want improved surgery.
“Politically, I think your case is even stronger. I’m sure that Belters would bitterly resent a hospital managed from the Earth. If they are like the Martians I used to know, they won’t distinguish the Moon from the Earth for this purpose. They will need control over their own hospitals. However much they might want your service, they will insist that the two programs be independent until both have proven their merits.
“At the same time, you might consider how to recruit teaching staff for their new hospital. Can you think of anyone so filled with adventure that they would go in your place? I bet half of the new recruits would jump at the chance. I always wanted to go to Ceres and Vesta when I was a Kid. I will bet that many older surgeons, maybe even some who are retired, still hold that dream and would be eager to take on a teaching role.
“Let Admiral Wang and Forward Command worry about security. It is their job and they know more about it than you or I do.”
Brave words, but inside I felt sick. The first volunteers would be facing a near-suicidal risk. I had only the slightest confidence that things would get better. I still could not see how to fulfill my own Mission, and without that, I feared the best hospitals would only prolong our death agonies.
Wang/private, “The Banshees are dealing with their own crises right now. I’m afraid your most unwelcome greetings brought the whole group to the boil. They say they will try again tomorrow, at the same time. Try not to cause more trouble, or draw attention to people who are in hiding.”
To Wang/private, “I’m sorry for the trouble I have caused, but I did only what I felt was necessary. Tomorrow then.”
He closed the connection.
It had been a long time since breakfast with the back-to-back meetings preventing a regular lunch, so MacFinn brought me a more substantial meal. I ate in silence, worrying about what to do without any solutions offering themselves. Nothing I could do would solve my legal problem. I had an idea about how to move some people to the Belt, but Wang would surely reject it and I could not fault him if he did. The two different hospital proposals might be just noise to the incoming administration or might be forced into a counterproductive union. The Banshees could not remain on the Moon, but like the geneticists had no way to leave. I almost felt the pressure of the war fleets gathering, still riddled with the mystifying madness that made ships launch attacks against the orders of their commanders.
As I ate and meditated, the last point began to bother me more. I was used to factions fighting one another. I had instigated factional rivalries myself. I knew that factions had sub-factions, which often followed agendas in defiance of their nominal masters. I had watched factional armies divide as battle approached, as had the Counterstrike fleet. Knowing that the major factions maintained fortresses in the Belt and had been conducting decade-long campaigns of civil war made some of that easier to understand.
But I had never in my years on Mars seen the random treachery that we had experienced, with individual ships breaking formation, making disorganized attacks, and continuing those attacks when it was clear that they were suicidal. The attackers had come from a variety of factions, as though they had all been infiltrated by some group intent on creating random trouble.
It reminded me far too much of Mindy, who had suffered from an emoji attack. The infiltrators who penetrated Valhalla had split into warring factions, not during the stress of battle but in the confidence of a secure victory. They deliberately sabotaged our comm units to allow token attacks but gave the same flawed units to their own officers. Imperial ships like the Lansdorf turned to us for the LE token to protect themselves from an emoji attack launched by someone in their own services. Something was happening that the Imperium did not control, something I did not recognize as typically Martian.
That worried me enough that I checked and realized the Cripple was again in partial control. That worried me as well until I closed him out again.
Just before dinner, I got a brief message.
Morris/private, “Cannot talk, but the Banshees have been quite argumentative today – triggered by your outburst but not caused by it.
“Raul and Cap Thieu are having a shouting, crying, and raging fight in a nearby room, keeping their two counsellors busy. My fault, in part, because I’ve drafted Raul as my shadow chief of staff. From what I hear through the walls, Cap Thieu is too frightened to remain in the TDF or even on the Moon, in almost any capacity, but doesn’t have anywhere else to go. It is the first time I’ve even heard Raul get angry, but he is almost as terrified as she is. My heart breaks for both of them.
“Doctors Marin, Valentino, and Tran are excited by the documents Dapeng gave them but refuse to talk to anyone about t
hem. Very odd to watch over-excited people having a comm conversation, like watching a drama with the sound muted.
“Agent Pinter and Doctor Toyami are dumping on Agent Chou who is arguing back. Again, the discussion is by comm, so I’ve no idea why they are angry.
“I did get a very brief message from Agent Vishnuram through my Council stream, which is unexpectedly still active after my supposed death. He wants to thank someone unspecified for the list of people who need immediate protection. No idea what that is about, except for the reports of spreading violence on the Earth.
“Very strange day. Anastasia sends her regards.”
Very strange message. I understood the fight between Raul and Begum but was not aware that Raul had started working with the ministers, nor the full depth of their desperation. Our conversation should have warned me, but maybe Begum had taken from it more than I had intended. Like so many others that I had touched recently.
I did understand what the doctors were discussing but was surprised they had become excited. The proposal seemed to me to be valuable and interesting, opening prospects for cooperation and medical advancements. But excitement?
As for Leilani and Doctor Toyami against Sergei, I was completely mystified.
I was pretty sure I knew who had sent a list of people to Vishnuram. There was only one obvious candidate but he should not have known about Chandrapati’s new ID. I worried even more about the list of names being intercepted until I reset myself back to the Ghost again.
What could I do? I watched the news feeds as I continued a program of light exercise, and practiced resetting myself to the Ghost every time a thread of worry crept into my consciousness.
Lord Banshee Lunatic (Nightmare Wars Book 3) Page 8