“So, we did our own search. We knew this depth of intelligence wasn’t the product of hacking. They had someone close to the program. And we put everything into establishing who they were. Was it possible there was a mole at the heart of the Pentagon? Could they be in the new Space Force itself? The problem was that Zhao had no idea, because the source wasn’t being run by the Chinese. New intel came in after high-level meetings in Moscow: China-Russia meetings. That changed things, but it made sense. We knew there’d been a Soviet unit dedicated to infiltrating the US space program right up until the collapse of the Soviet Union. China has the technical superiority now, but Russia still has the deep network of human assets. It looked like there was some kind of trade-off. So we began thinking along these lines. We redirected attention toward the Russian agencies, pulled in expertise from the Russia desk. That was when we started hearing about Gemstone.”
Latham eased himself away from the bench and they set off again, this time away from the river, deeper into woods.
“Back in 2011, the Russian desk had managed to bug a negotiation in Minsk between senior Chinese and Russian officials in which they refer to an asset by the codename Gemstone. From what was discussed it seemed Gemstone was a Russian spy, central to an intelligence-sharing arrangement. Russians needed access to Chinese space research. They could see the Chinese space program was going to overtake their own in a matter of years. But they had this card to play: an officer who could supply regular, detailed intelligence on Ptolemy.
“But who were they? And where were they? We spent three months trying to sniff out Gemstone, then got the result that gave us as many problems as it did solutions. Early last year Gemstone sent through a report with high-urgency status. It included a photograph showing British officials meeting senior US commanders on Ascension, and it included speculation that they’d been in discussions regarding the future of the island. So now we knew Gemstone was probably on Ascension—they’d been able to photograph this event but hadn’t been part of the group that traveled over. But we also knew, thanks to him, that the UK was preparing to join the US in an exclusive space defense program. We asked around and couldn’t find anyone who would admit to this. So what had we discovered?
“A month later, the RAF took on command and control of all UK military space operations. We began pulling away from the European space agency. Big changes were afoot. According to Gemstone’s report, the officials he’d seen were discussing the possibility of making Ascension a high-security command site, central to a ground-based space surveillance system.”
“When exactly was this meeting on the island?” Taylor asked.
“About eighteen months ago. As far as I’m aware it’s still going ahead. Ascension will connect to observatories in Hawaii, New Mexico, Alaska, and the Marshall Islands.”
The sun came out, catching them in an incongruous mesh of golden shards. Latham shielded his eyes. Taylor tried to process what she’d heard so far. The scale of it all was breathtaking, the implication and stakes involved.
“Then what happened? You raised this with superiors?”
“We knew we had to hand over. Spying on the Americans is one thing, spying on ourselves . . . We were instructed to deny ever seeing any of it, of course. To erase records.”
“Did they fire you?”
“No, I left of my own accord.” Latham stopped among the trees and looked at Taylor. “When I first began meeting with Zhao, we discovered we were the same age. We talked about our memory of the moon landing, both young boys, both fascinated by it. What an extraordinary achievement. Do you know what people said at the time? We did it. And they meant humans, as a species. Everyone.” He shook his head. “That was one of the main reasons Zhao felt compelled to work for us. He thought China was going too far. I promised him that the risks he took would help us keep space peaceful. I think even then I knew I was lying.”
Latham looked away. Now his infirmity seemed born of a more emotional breakage, a collapse of his moral center.
“I objected to the whole direction of policy,” he said. “Because I also believed we were at a dangerous crossroads. It wasn’t an argument that was going to be had. By that point, I’d done my time.”
“And Gemstone?”
“Gemstone was never identified. I was called back a few months after leaving and questioned by a team from the US. They clearly hadn’t made any progress. I know the Space Force turned themselves inside out, even fired a few people. I’m sure they changed all their passwords too. And it’s true, the leaks stopped for a bit. But that’s what you’d expect. Do they have the skills for a mole hunt? No. Due to Ptolemy’s unique sensitivity they weren’t prepared to draw on established resources or expertise. A supposedly select handful of security officers blundered in. All they achieved was to alert the Chinese that someone had been leaking from their side. And the Chinese were more successful in their hunt. Zhao was executed by firing squad last year. Now they’ve come for Jerry Lau.”
Latham stared through the trees. Taylor allowed him a moment’s reflection, but she had her own potential tragedies to avert and needed to keep him focused on the present.
“I think Gemstone killed my officer there.”
“I suspect you’re right.”
“Did you ever establish any identifying details for them?”
“None.”
The obscurity was maddening. But this in itself told her a lot. Spies operating successfully deep behind enemy lines for more than a decade were a rare breed. It took years to train them, years for them to get into position. In that time they might do nothing but live their cover. She remembered being talked through the principles during training: placing someone so that they grew with their environment, ready to be activated after a decade or more. These were already antiquated skills at the time, belonging to a world where you knew who you were targeting one month to the next. The art of living deep. But at some point, you had to deliver. That was the pinch point: contacting your handlers. Somewhere in their life there had to be that umbilical cord, or the whole thing was for nothing.
“How does Gemstone transfer information from the island?” Taylor asked.
“It’s a good question. Ascension’s too remote to be passing anything physically on a regular basis, so Gemstone must have a communications setup. We wanted to assess all radio signals, but with the amount going on there, it proved impossible. I think Gemstone has an advanced system hidden somewhere, well away from the bases.” Latham shook his head regretfully. “I reckon we were a few weeks away from uncovering them.”
“How did HQ react when you told them you’d been seeing Ptolemy documents?”
“I was told to forget it all, of course. The following week I got a call from the Russian desk suggesting that someone I’d crossed paths with in Moscow had put a price on my head. The message was clear enough: Speak out about this and everything is in place to have you silenced.”
“Jesus.”
“You can see why I’m concerned about you turning up here. People who know a lot less than what I’ve just told you have been killed for the sake of protecting Ptolemy.”
He shook his head and sighed.
“If you have an officer on the island, Gemstone will know. If they pose any threat to him, they will be killed. I think Gemstone’s almost out of time, and they’re going to be easily panicked.”
“Why? What did you mean, earlier, when you asked if this was connected to what’s happening today?”
“As soon as I saw what was going on, I thought of Ascension. I wondered if someone was going to turn up, try to drag me back in.”
“Saw what going on?”
“The ship.” He looked at her, bemused. “Have you not seen? The Russian ship in the South Atlantic.”
29
Kane drove Connor back to the US base. It was almost four a.m., but the island wasn’t sleeping tonight. The guards at the base were out in force, which meant more torchlight in his face. Then they saw his passenger.
>
“It’s Connor,” one of the guards shouted. “He’s here.”
“Thank Christ for that. Straight through, buddy. Follow me.”
One of the guards jumped into a jeep and drove in front of Kane, leading him past long barracks buildings, a smattering of beige huts, and a grassless softball field with bleachers and a chain-link fence. There was a second guard post before they reached an area with detached cabins, pebbled grounds, and artificial-looking shrubs. Married quarters. Officers’ quarters.
At the sound of the vehicles, Connor’s mother appeared in her doorway. She ran to clasp Connor as he got out.
“Oh, thank God. Oh, Jesus. Come in.”
She told Kane to come in too. The guard wheeled away with a salute.
A lot of effort had gone into making the cabin feel like a family home. There were shelves of CDs, magazines, ornaments. Carina’s toys and dolls cluttered the floor, and the dining table was filled with picture books. Still the artificial light seemed harsh after the darkness.
“Where were you?” Anne said.
Connor looked nervous.
“He was up by the old NASA station,” Kane said.
“Connor, what the hell . . .” She turned to Kane. “Did the police let you go?”
“Not exactly. I had a bad feeling about the NASA station, so I headed up there. Of my own accord, so to speak. There’s a good chance police still want to speak to me and will come after me.”
“They said Lauren Carter’s clothes were at your place.”
“Yes. I don’t know why. I don’t know what’s going on but it’s nothing to do with me.”
“The bastards,” Anne said.
“Has there been any word of Lauren?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“What about Thomas? Last I saw he was getting in a situation with the British authorities.”
“They’ve released him. He should be home any minute.”
Connor went to the bathroom. Kane heard him being sick. Anne made some calls, came back, shaking her head grimly.
“No sign of her yet,” she said. “Listen, I think we’re going to try to leave here, get off this island . . .”
The front door opened and Thomas appeared, silhouetted against the headlights of the vehicle that had dropped him off.
“Edward,” he said.
“Are you okay?”
“Just about. There are people going crazy looking for you.”
“I could do with lying low for a while.”
Thomas looked to his wife.
“They won’t come on here,” Anne said.
“Not for now.”
Anne went and spoke to the uniformed men outside. Kane heard them address her as “ma’am.” She returned.
“They say there’s a stolen vehicle here.”
“That’s me. You can tell them to take it.” Kane gave her the keys. Anne looked at them as if she was about to say something, then went and passed them to the men outside.
“We can stall them, at least,” she said, shutting the door.
“Where did you go?” Thomas said.
“He found Connor up at Devil’s Ashpit,” Anne said.
Thomas took a deep breath: “Looking for Lauren.”
“That’s right. What do you know about the place?” Kane said.
“I know the kids have always said there’s something odd up there, and when Petra went missing, I told the police they should take a look. Which I don’t believe they ever did.”
“I want to take a closer look myself,” Kane said. “But I need metal-cutting tools.”
“There’s no way you’re getting back out there tonight. You won’t get much farther than the gates of the base. Seriously, they’re all over this place. What happened at Devil’s Ashpit?”
“We went in,” Connor said, appearing from the bathroom.
“Into the old control building?”
“We went in and there’s a basement or something. That’s really secured. Edward thinks we should look there.”
“I think it’s worth checking out,” Kane said.
“I told you,” Connor said.
“Okay. Tell me about this basement.”
“My guess is there’s extensive underground space,” Kane said. “Someone’s locked the access hatch but used it recently. I’ve got a bad feeling about it.”
“Fuck. What would you need to get in?”
“Something heavy-duty. Ideally an oxy-fuel torch. Maybe a circular saw or angle grinder.”
Thomas nodded, thoughtful.
“I can give it a try,” he said.
Anne frowned. “Using what?”
“There’s a plasma torch in the boat hut. There’s a hacksaw, too. It’s worth a shot.”
“You’d go back to Georgetown now? That’s crazy.”
“Everyone’s by the police station. The port’s empty.”
“On your own?”
“You can’t go alone,” Kane said.
“No one’s looking for me. And whoever’s responsible won’t be up there now. Not if it’s been entered. If Lauren’s there . . . Fuck.”
“Thomas, are you sure?” Anne said. “I can come.”
“What about Carina?”
“What about me?”
They turned to see the girl in the doorway to her bedroom. She wore pajamas, held a stuffed toy.
“Go back to bed, sweet pea. It’s the middle of the night.”
“Daddy.” Carina walked over to her father. He picked her up.
“Everything’s okay.”
But the girl sensed something and began to cry.
“Who’s the person?” she said, pointing at Kane.
“You remember Edward. We met him by the beach yesterday. He’s a friend.”
“Hey, Carina,” Kane said.
The girl hid her face against her father’s shoulder.
“How might you be getting off the island?” Kane said.
“There’s a plane going to Florida tomorrow night,” Anne said. “I don’t know if we can get you on it too, if that’s something you need. It may be your best option.” Anne gazed at her daughter’s back, deep in contemplation. Then a radio transceiver on the kitchen table crackled into life and she picked it up, walking away.
“Command, this is Alpha 1.” She stepped into the kitchen, came back a few seconds later.
“I’m going to have to go in,” she said grimly.
“At this time?” Thomas said.
“Yeah, at this time.”
“What’s going on?”
“Issues. I can be back in an hour.”
“Well, I need to take a look at Devil’s Ashpit before it starts getting light.”
“I can keep an eye on things,” Kane said.
“Are you sure?” Anne said. “I won’t be too long.”
It wasn’t the worst option, he reasoned. He needed means of communication to alert Taylor to the tracking station and the new territory he’d found himself on. From Kane’s experience of US bases there’d be decent internet—both laptops around and public PCs. Maybe a free phone. Maybe something in the Lindgrens’ cabin. And then? The police and Administrator were a problem. His total absence of trust in them was a problem. Most of the potential plans of action involved revealing that he was more than an academic. He needed at least three men, armed, who would take orders that superseded those of the police and possibly any senior military personnel. That might involve establishing an autonomous chain of command from the UK.
Carina was howling now. “Don’t go, Daddy.”
“I’ve got to go do something, sweetheart. I’ll be back.” He handed the girl over to her mother. “I’m not wasting another moment. Where’s this entrance to the basement?” he asked Kane.
“There’s a door off the largest room, in the center of the building, marked with an electrical-hazard sign. The hatch is on the other side.”
“Okay. I’ll be back, one way or another.”
Thomas left. Connor watched h
im go, then went into the bathroom and ran a shower.
“Don’t get the bandage wet,” Anne called. There was no reply. She swore, set her daughter down.
“I need to throw some clothes on.”
She went to the bedroom. It looked like the girl was about to cry again. Kane crouched, took a pencil from his pocket.
“Seen anyone bend a pencil before?”
She shook her head.
“First you try.”
She had a go, and then he took the pencil back and showed her the trick. She asked to check the pencil again.
“You’re a Brit,” she said, sniffing, as if this explained his magic powers.
“That’s right. Where are you from?”
“Here.”
“That’s a special place to be from. I like your name.”
“It means stars.”
“Your name?”
“Look.”
She held out a hand and led him to the dining table.
“Put the chair by the shelves,” she said. He moved a chair to the bookshelf, and she stood on it and retrieved a pair of binoculars.
“Now put the chair by the window.”
“Are you allowed to use those?”
“They’re mine.”
Kane set the chair up by the window. She climbed up and peered through the binoculars. Then she confessed: “I don’t know which one it is. Carina is up there. A million light-years away. It’s a consolation.”
“A constellation?”
“Yes.”
“How many miles is a light-year?” Kane asked.
“A million million miles.”
“A long way.”
She offered him the binoculars. “See if you can find it.” Her mother returned while he was searching the night sky. Anne Lindgren was in uniform now: a dark blue officer’s uniform, but not like any he’d seen before. She saw Kane notice it and raised her eyebrows as if to say: Well, this is me. This is the work outfit.
“I was showing him my consolation,” the girl said.
“Very good. You go back to bed, or you’ll be falling asleep all day tomorrow. And we might have some packing to do.” Anne checked the clock. It was half past four. Thomas had been gone fifteen minutes. Ten to drive to Georgetown, another ten to retrieve the equipment if he was lucky, then what?
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