Confrontation

by William Hayashi

  “It’s funny, that’s how I feel. When I was younger I was more of a mind that there would finally be some kind of uprising that would essentially start another genocide like this country was built upon with the native population. When the country finally learned who the separatists were, I was exultant about their achievements, glad they spit in the eye of America’s entire scientific community. I even hoped there would be a confrontation on the moon where those soldiers would be crushed—okay, maybe not killed, but so dominated that there would be no mistake about who had the biggest stick in the game. Now I serve in the White House, part of the establishment that they surely place at the top of the totem pole of blame for the racial ills in this country,” said Dawkins.

  “So what’s President Laughlin doing to make this a better place for us and our children? Is sending me along on what looks like a waste of time his way of placating our people? If so, that’s bullshit and I have no intention of being a part of it.”

  Dawkins broke out in unexpected laughter, touching Roscoe’s arm to reassure her that she wasn’t laughing at what she had said. Wiping her eyes, she said, “You know, reading the transcripts of the recorded sessions of the commission don’t do you justice. It was one of the reasons I brought your name to President Laughlin in the first place. I especially liked how you barked at President Bender, making no excuses for your actions.”

  “If you did your homework you also know I don’t put up with crap from anyone. And I don’t have any problem if people get pissed off when I demand to be treated as an equal, and with respect. So I hate to lay this on you, but I want to know everything about the mission and all the political background behind why Laughlin went to all this trouble getting me here, and why you all want me to lead this expedition so badly,” Roscoe demanded.

  “You were my choice, Stuart had nothing to do with your name coming up. I thought you would be the perfect choice for exactly the reasons you just gave. Men don’t scare you, whites don’t scare you, and you certainly don’t bend to political necessity. In addition, you can be trusted to do the right thing, not the most expedient thing, when the choices get tough. That was my read, that’s why I’ve been lobbying for your selection,” Dawkins said.

  “Then why the secrecy? Why didn’t you give me a heads-up when you first contacted me?”

  “Because making the offer wasn’t my job. Even telling you about it would have been stepping way over the line. And frankly, we’d never crossed paths, which, by the way, surprised me.”

  “Me too,” Roscoe said. “I knew who you were when Laughlin took office, but I was surprised that we hadn’t met.”

  “Well now we have. But just as an exercise, let’s lay out the pros and cons of you heading up the mission, shall we?” Dawkins suggested.

  “That’s what I’ve been doing all afternoon,” Roscoe said, then paused. “There’s a number of different levels to this. There’s the strictly procedural: training, launching into space, making sure everything here is taken care of while I’m gone. Then there’s the whole mission commander bugaboo. I may be one of the ones leading the march on any interaction we have with those people, but I am in no way qualified to command a spaceship. And finally, how specifically am I expected to serve my master in communicating or negotiating with the separatists if the opportunity presents itself?”

  “Ouch! You don’t pull any punches, do you?” Dawkins said, chuckling.

  “I spent the whole afternoon distilling the offer down to its component parts. You’ll have to admit though it’s still a lot to chew.”

  “I would expect nothing less from you. I’m really hoping you take the president’s offer for two reasons. First, this is a unique opportunity, and not in the way people talk about some regular Fortune 500 posting to a new company, but truly unique. And secondly, you are a wild card as far as the regular political establishment is concerned. You have no past in terms of national politics that can be used to marginalize your selection. The worst someone can say about you is that you’re an academic, which is easily justified, especially with the last emissaries sent to meet those people being armed soldiers.

  “As far as your so-called spaceship training is concerned, NASA will train you to within an inch of your life. You’ll have survival reflexes that you can’t even imagine. And since you run the math department in a male-dominated field and university, you already have the leadership skills needed for a mission like this. The rest, well, that’s a complete unknown, but I’ll hazard that sending a black, female academic will go a much longer way toward facilitating dialogue with them than some military flack, no matter who they are.

  “The crew is mixed, men and women, it’s not like you’ll be the only woman on board. The only unknowns about the crew right now are a representative Laughlin promised the secretary general of the UN, and a crew member that GST has reserved the right to place on the mission. Both of these slots are still subject to NASA’s and the president’s approval. Personally, I think it’s about time that not only a woman commands an enterprise like this, but a black woman especially.”

  “How’s that?” Roscoe asked, very curious to see where this was going.

  “I still don’t see us being equals to whites in America, ever. Oh, I love my job, and I admit that were it not for the fact that I’m a nearly lifelong friend of Laughlin’s wife I would be working some nine-to-five with a great salary and benefits; but I’m in no way typical. Women like us benefit from a system that recognizes competence and capability, yet we can only go so high. Leading Project Jove will be shattering at least one glass ceiling for women if you command the mission.”

  “Okay, I get all that. So what’s in it for you?” Roscoe asked, getting down to it.

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit. I haven’t been this hustled since my junior prom in high school. You and the president are just as interested in screwing me as my date, and if this mission goes up in smoke it’s my ass and reputation that are on the line. Those folks out there have technology that no one here can duplicate. This mission isn’t going to be any threat to them, but they can express their displeasure in ways that can easily get us all killed a long, long way from home.”

  “Look, here’s what it all means to me. Those people have proven to be better than us,” Dawkins began.

  Roscoe immediately interrupted, “Us? Who do you mean?”

  “Us, you, me, America, white and black. They left us all behind and have done things we barely understand. They live in outer space, they control gravity, according to the FBI forensic people they live twice as long as we do. And we sit here doing what? Our people are being subjected to the anger of whites pissed that they can’t benefit from the marvels of the separatists. Damn right I want someone like you to head the mission because without one of us going there’s only two outcomes; we lose, or we lose catastrophically.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Lose how? And if you believe that, why send me?” Roscoe asked angrily.

  “Because if you don’t go, losing catastrophically is the only possible result and spells the end of the republic. There’s no way whites will tolerate black folks thumbing their noses at them, denying them what they have. And who do you think is going to suffer that anger? The president knows this, and I suspect that the rest of the world is just itching for the Jove mission to come up empty. Look what was achieved by us without the yoke of racism holding us back. You think that goes unnoticed by whites—hell, everyone. Our only hope is you going out to meet with them to, somehow, convince them that there’s a vital need for their participating in this country.

  “Fuck that!” Roscoe declared, shocking the other woman into silence. “That’s right, fuck you, fuck Laughlin, and fuck this country. You have lost your mind if you think I have any desire to see the status quo in this country maintained.”

  Roscoe paused to take a breath and gather herself. “If I go at all, it should
be to convince them to take me in. This country can go to hell for all I care. Did you read about the water fountain incident while the commission was sequestered in that goddamn hole in the ground?” Roscoe asked.

  “Yes. I even read President Bender’s private recollection of the incident. What does that have to do with this? You can’t be willing to see this country destroyed over a sick joke, can you? Don’t you realize who’s going to bear the brunt of a spectacular failure? Anyone whose skin is darker than Harry Belafonte’s.”

  “Who are you? Are you really so dense that you can’t tell nothing’s changed from the last century other than some thinly coated veneer of bullshit that’s supposed to try to fool us into believing we’re happy? I pegged you as smarter than that,” Roscoe said, rising and gathering her things to leave.

  “Sit–the–fuck–down!” hissed Dawkins. “You want plain talk, then be woman enough to listen to me. And if you don’t like what you hear, then you can do whatever the hell you want.”

  Roscoe paused for a moment, then tossed her purse on the seat beside her and sat back down.

  “I would like nothing better than for those separatists to come back and force some changes in this country, the bloodier the better,” Dawkins began, shocking Dr. Roscoe. “That’s right, I wouldn’t cry a single tear if whites were deposed in this country. At every turn, whenever some evil has been foisted on blacks in this country, it’s been at the hands of some white asshole; talk about your national entitlement bullshit.

  “I sit at the right hand of the most powerful man in the world, that’s the best I can do; that’s the best we’ve ever done. But you can be damn sure I’m not in the least happy with the status quo in terms of what we have to go through, I mean everyone, nonwhites in general, black folks in particular.

  “So I stack the deck in terms of getting someone who can convey our grievances to people who can finally do something about them, people who have demonstrated their absolute power. I can’t go on the mission. I don’t trust anyone I know, anyone black in government or in the private sector. But the way you stood up to President Bender in Shelter 14 was—well it was unbelievable. Frankly it was inspired, and when you didn’t back down I knew you were different, and the only woman who I know who could have any chance of making this mission a success.”

  “A success? Talking them into what? Coming here and taking over the country? That’s insane,” said Roscoe, shaking her head in amazement.

  “Maybe so, but not just that, or even that at all, but leveraging their power into getting a fair shake for us once and for all. We’ve had half a century of bullshit, of lip service on equality. The roots of prejudice and racism are too deep for some voluntary, willful declaration of equality that actually fulfills the promise.”

  Roscoe was silent, considering the options, running scenarios in her mind on what she could possibly say to the separatist community. There were a myriad of unknowns, too many possibilities to consider, no way to narrow the list to a manageable number. She knew she was intrigued by the opportunity, and she wasn’t worried about getting back to Earth after traveling all the way out to the asteroid belt. After all, they left a facility powered up on the moon, knowing full well that those sent to confront them on the lunar surface were soldiers essentially on a suicide mission once they landed. “You say that I would be mission commander, right?” she asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “No white knuckle-dragger who’s really some government spook who takes over if you all don’t like what I’m doing?”

  “As far as I know, that’s right, except for the UN representative and GST’s pick. But GST is probably more concerned with getting an early jump on grabbing any technology the separatists may gift you. Neither of them will be in the so-called chain of command. They’re both going to be mission specialists, nothing more,” Dawkins promised. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Okay…”

  “What did you see at the Smithsonian?”

  Smiling in spite of herself, Dr. Roscoe answered, “The Air and Space Museum and the American History Museum.”

  “Why those two?” asked Dawkins.

  “Because they are the two exhibitions that are going to change the most in terms of achievements and historical perspective if those people ever return.” she paused a moment, then quietly added. “I’ll do it.”

  “What?”

  “If you and the president are serious about the offer, and if I’m not going to be just a figurehead, I accept the offer to lead the Jove mission.”

  “How did—what made you decide?” Dawkins asked in shock.

  “Because, regardless of the outcome, this mission is going to be the most important undertaking in diplomacy this country has ever taken on, and I want to be a part of it. And honestly, we’re way too much alike. We want the same things for this country,” Roscoe answered quietly. “But do me a favor.”

  “Anything, you name it,” promised Dawkins.

  “Don’t tell the president just yet. I want to take the weekend to think it over. Please inform him that I will call him first thing Monday morning with my answer.”

  “I will. And you can depend on my discretion until then, just in case you change your mind,” Dawkins said, not able to hide her satisfaction as they shook hands, sealing the deal.

  Chapter 11

  TREAT HER LIKE A LADY

  Patrick was sitting quietly in his office, reworking the control-interface programming for the Jove propulsion systems. The power-up tests for the final engine installation completed perfectly, and it appeared that they might be able to squeeze another five percent of thrust from the engines with a minor adjustment to the xenon fuel matrix.

  Performing a quick calculation, he spoke to the other two engineers. “If you guys look at this, with all seven units at full power it calculates out to a little more than a five percent increase. This is fantastic. I’m going to forward this over to ops and have them apply the new figures to the mission profile. Thanks for shooting this to me. By the way, how’s the weather up there?” Patrick asked.

  “Very funny, asshole. You should really drag your butt up here and find out for yourself!”

  “Hey, Randy, I’m surprised they let you out without a minder holding your leash,” Patrick teased.

  “It’s a long way from the high-altitude chamber, ain’t it, Pat?”

  “You got that right. I’ll drop you a note after I discuss this with ops. Over and out.”

  Patrick closed the communications channel and proceeded to prepare a summary about the new propulsion test results and was startled when his phone rang.

  “Hello, Jensen.”

  “Pat, it’s Paul. Can you come to my office for a few minutes? There’s something we need to discuss.”

  Curious, and somewhat anxious, Patrick replied, “No problem. Is something wrong?”

  “Just come on up, it’ll be easier to explain when you get here,” Milton said.

  At Milton’s office he was surprised to see John Mathews and another suit already seated. They both rose to shake his hand and Mathews introduced Patrick to Tom Weston.

  “Tom’s the head of Corporate Security at GST and works very closely with those responsible for security here at NASA as well,” said John

  “Please sit down, Pat,” said Milton. “We have a little problem here that concerns you.”

  “Did you guys find out how my computer at home got infected?” Patrick asked, looking at John.

  “We did,” John replied, and then paused.

  “Mr. Jensen, we have traced the origin of a new infection on your system to Ms. Melody Parker,” said Weston. “Unfortunately this infection was not accidental. She deliberately loaded this program on your computer, obviously without your knowledge.”

  “Wait a minute, how could she do that?” Patrick asked, clearly confused.

  “Ha
ve you been letting her check her email or go anywhere on the Internet?” John asked.

  “Yes. I did like you said to and didn’t do anything different. It’s not my fault. I did what you said!” Patrick said, almost shouting.

  “Hey! Calm down, Pat,” Milton said sternly. “Get hold of yourself. Of course you did what you were told, and now you see the necessity. It’s not your fault, no one is going to blame you for falling for a pretty face and no one expects you to do any kind of background check on every woman you date. It’s not your job.”

  “That’s our job, Mr. Jensen,” Weston said flatly.

  “Call me Patrick,” he said distractedly.

  “We still don’t want you to do anything different, or behave differently toward Ms. Parker,” began John. “Under the circumstances I know how hard that will be for you, but Dr. Milton has a suggestion on how we all can proceed.”

  Patrick looked at Milton as he sat up and cleared his throat.

  “I know your personal feelings on the matter, Pat. But in order to successfully conduct this investigation it would be a good idea for you to be elsewhere for the time being, but leave you with the ability to communicate with your lady friend,” began Milton.

  “What, like send me to the Cape to work from there?” Patrick asked.

  “Not exactly,” Milton answered.

  “You’re not thinking about sending me back to California, are you?”

  “No. We have somewhere better for you to work, maintain workflow and consult with the engineers on the project,‘ Milton said. “I’m just going to come out and say it. We’re going to send you up to the construction outpost in orbit.”

  “But, but, but—wait—I’m … I can’t. I’m not going into outer space!” Patrick said, completely nonplussed.

  “Settle down. You know your contract has provisions for being posted in orbit. You’ve been through the training, and you’ll get a refresher before you launch. But this way, not only can these two wrap a blanket of surveillance around your girlfriend, but they’re more likely to find out who she’s working for with you out of the immediate picture.”