“The mayor thinks so,” Pratte said.
Graison nodded. “There have been some serious casualties, although so far there haven’t been any deaths. Pallassano is stretching her security thin, and she is asking us to step in to provide security for our own people.”
“We don’t have spare people up here,” the admiral said. “Do you?
“We sent two extra squads from TFC and we have a private security company in Freeport South that says they can send twenty more, if we can pay the bills,” he said. “That would be a start.”
“If our people are being targeted in the pushback, should we just pull them out?” the admiral asked.
“We’ve got twenty thousand people resident there and Pallassano has all the available transport in use to ship DoCartel personnel out,” Pratte said. “We’d have to do it via shuttle and the pads are where they’re having the most serious engagements.”
“How many people are involved in the riots?” Visser asked.
“The biggest one she’s told us about so far had a couple thousand people,” Graison said. “It’s still a small minority of the population, but that could change, if the mayor has to get more aggressive.”
“Even twenty squads of paid guards won’t make a difference.” The admiral frowned and shook his head.
“They’re trained and armed for riot control,” he said. “So far the ones they will be facing are a mob.”
“An organized mob? Isn’t that an oxymoron?” His first officer grinned when he glanced at her. His mood was dropping like a rock and he didn’t have much patience for even a little levity.
“These mobs are like chaos bombs,” Pratte said. “They spread confusion once they go off, but they’re precisely targeted to have the most effect.”
“How many security units does the NHC government have involved in this?” Quintana asked.
“All of them,” she said. “But they have to protect the loop stations and other critical infrastructure. Out where the riots are happening, they are pretty thin.”
“Let’s say we decide to pull our people out, can we hold a port facility long enough to evacuate to multicruisers?” he asked. “It will take a crap-ton of shuttle runs to evacuate twenty thousand people.”
“Not all of them will be willing to run since a lot of them are permanent residents there,” Graison said. “I also think it would send the wrong idea to the mayor if we did that.”
“If it is organized, it’s only a matter of time before the mobs turn into an army,” Visser said. “We can’t assume that this chaos will not escalate into something much uglier.”
The admiral’s com link beeped and he glanced down at the icon. Urgent. “Hang on a second I have something to look at.” He muted the link to TFC and punched into the local com. “Quintana, go.”
“Admiral you just received a microburst text transmission. It’s odd though because it authenticates as your personal ident and is command level encrypted,” the com officer said. “Routing shows it came through Mars Relay-Six.”
“Is it from Edison Wentworth?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “How did he get your personal code?”
“I gave it to him for emergency use,” he said. “Send it to my desk.”
Glancing at his first officer he twisted in his seat to stare at his console while he waited for the file to transfer in. When it opened, he read it aloud.
“Discovered a lost package. Says he has critical tactical intel you seek, but is only willing to give it to Chancellor Roja. We need to arrange highest-level security to complete this information exchange. Please advise.”
He read the text a second time to himself and frowned. “A lost package?”
“You don’t think he’s talking about Ariqat, do you?” she said.
“On Mars?”
“That’d be one hell of a place to hide him,” she said. “What kind of tactical information could he have? He’s been missing for months, so anything he’d have would be out of date and useless.”
The admiral drummed his fingers on the console and shook his head. “He was part of the ghost fleet conspiracy, but I think it’s more likely that someone’s jerking Wentworth’s chain and he is just trying to run it up the rigging to see who salutes.”
“Probably,” she said, nodding.
He punched the record icon on the screen and cleared his throat. “No possibility of contacting Roja, as per her orders. All com to L-4 goes through the chain of command. Clearly define the nature of the package and the content of the intel and I will forward any information I deem appropriate.”
CHAPTER NINE
Robinson: Western Athabasca Valles, Mars:
Edison sat in the back corner of the little lounge, watching the crowd moving past on the concourse below. Like everything else in Robinson, the Backwater Tavern was immaculate, even if it was trying to pretend to be a dive bar. The food was good and the alcohol even better.
His thinpad beeped and he looked at the screen for several seconds before he realized it was the reply from Quintana.
“Shit,” he whispered as the message drilled its way down through the mist the bourbon had left behind in his brain.
“Pa, why so hangface?” A cup of real coffee appeared on the table in front of him. Porcelain and fancy.
He blinked in surprise several times as a flashback overwhelmed reality. Kylla?
“He’s allergic to looking happy,” Saf said.
“Nojo,” she said. “Maybe he’d lip up, if I let him scan my tattys, but he’s still a dustpile, so gotta get extra for it.”
“He’s obviously not that old,” Saf said as she sat down across from him and let her eyes wander in a direction that made him blush and almost sweat. And proved she was right.
“How the hell did you get here?” he asked, as Kylla leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek. Her genetically engineered pheromones washed over him and made him forget for the moment the problems that the admiral had pushed back into his lap.
“I walked?” she said. She pulled a chair up from the next table and parked herself. “Truth is, I snaked onto a cargo skiff sliding meds to Phobos. Bossman will survive once he catches a lungful and wakes up.”
“You mugged a ship commander?”
She snorted. “Nah. Was too prettyboy to hammer. He got himself some workout racktime and he’ll be hard-down for a while. Spoiled him I did, scan?”
“Ah, got it,” he said. “Assault level hormones.”
“He catches on quick,” Saf said.
“Depends on which way the wind blows,” he said. “My brain works better if I sit upwind of you two.”
“That’s what I like about you Pa.” Kylla grinned. “You’re pretty smart for a …”
“Normal old duster,” he said. “I’m old enough to know better.”
“Yah, but I bet your resistance wouldn’t stand a chance if we both put our mind to it,” Saf said, shooting an elbow at Kylla and winking.
“Do not.” He wagged a finger at her. “You’re a married woman.”
“And you’re not that old fashioned,” she said. “You’re just scared of us.”
“Scared? I prefer to call it a well developed survival instinct,” he said, gulping down the rest of his bourbon and hoping they’d drop it. He knew he should have other things on his mind, but they were making it hard to remember.
“I assume it isn’t random chance that brought you here?” he asked once the burning gave him back his voice.
Kylla shook her head. “I conjured I’d track you and toss in on your party. I scan it was your mess that got my café snagged, so you owe me a new trajectory. With the junk on your back, I bet there’re some skills I can bring to the game.”
“I’m not sure there’s a trajectory for any of us at this point,” Edison said. The cloud settled over him again.
“Something new?” Saf asked, frowning.
Edison nodded. “The admiral said no cando on the powwow. All com to L-4 goes throu
gh him.”
“As in Neptune L-4?” she asked, her eyes going wide.
“Dono.” He shrugged. “I’m not a science guy, but I think there are L-4 positions all over the Solar System.”
“True, but if that’s where Roja’s sitting we’ve got some new stuff to think about,” Saf said, jumping up. She was half way to the door before she turned around and looked at them like she expected them to follow her.
Edison looked down at the cup of coffee.
“The Colorado can come,” Kylla said, picking up the saucer. “Was my cup anyway.”
Gateway Colony: L-4 Prime:
Word had somehow reached the Armstrong. As far as Jeph could tell, one of the scientists on Jameson’s staff must have made a lucky guess. When Roja and her advisors arrived, he found himself pinned against the bulkhead with the intensity of her frustration. It was decidedly uncomfortable, even though he knew she had no real power to push him over.
“We’ve played this your way Governor Cochrane and you’ve done an admirable job. However, now that you’ve finished the language matrix, we need to revisit our arrangement,” she said her tone polite, but her words were just this side of a threat.
“In what way?” he asked, leaning back and trying to look casual.
“The project now, is much larger than it was,” she said. “There are only eleven of you, and you obviously need more help to get control of the Tacra Un.”
“Control of the Tacra Un is not the objective,” Danel said. “This is more of an archaeological expedition than anything else. We have uncovered an artifact and we need to understand its purpose.”
“I beg to differ, Dr. Cross,” Admiral Nakamiru said. “This has become a mission to get control of the technology that has us trapped here. Sooner or later we will need to get some distance so we can defend L-4 Prime. As long as you cannot shut down the quantum quicksand there is no way we can mount a real defense.”
“You make it sound like we’ve failed,” Chei said, bristling in response. “That’s not a reasonable assessment.”
“You said, once you finished the language study, the quicksand would be turned off,” the chancellor said.
“Precisely what was said was that the language study had to be completed before the gradient could be shut off. This is still a factual statement. It does not say finishing it will be the only requirement to get the desired results.” Dutch managed to sound offended at the implication that they had lied.
“It was my understanding that this was only the first step in what may be a multifaceted process,” Dr. Jameson said, taking their side.
Roja scowled at the doctor her face just to the civil side of a snarl.
“What else do we need to do to get there?” Captain Jeffers asked, picking up the argument while the chancellor bit back on her frustration.
“We need to find the control center and then, hopefully, we will know enough to be able to do it” Jeph said
“Find the control center?” she asked.
“We’re mapping the interior now,” he said. We’re working as fast as we can, but it will take time. The interior of the Tacra Un is immense, and each of the doors out of the matrix connects to at least one other major node somewhere else in the facility. Each of those potentially connects to dozens more.”
The admiral nodded. “You need more manpower to get this done. In that case, why are you restricting the access of our people?”
“Because it’s dangerous work,” Jeph said. An image opened on the screen behind him showing the interior of one of the areas they’d scanned. It looked like a huge automated factory that might be dangerous for frail and tiny humans. “So far we have seen at least one heavy fabrication facility like this and we don’t want your people getting in there and running into trouble.”
“I’m sure they’re at least as qualified as you are,” Jeffers said.
“That can be proven to be false,” Dutch said. “Safety in this situation will directly relate to language competence. The best score any of your people have achieved on comprehension of the Un Shan Takhu language is twenty-three percent. The members of our mapping team are all above eighty-five percent comprehension levels.”
“In fact the lowest score on any of my crew is fifty-six percent,” Jeph added.
Roja looked at Jameson who nodded. “None of our people wanted to take the time to learn the language. We’ve been pushing them to get them up to speed, but they’re more interested in the content of the finished translations of the shanak-che than in learning enough to read the language.”
“That’s why I don’t think it’s safe to have them wandering around in the Kanahto on their own,” Jeph said.
“At the least, we should have people with your team,” Nakamiru said. “I can insist.”
“And I can say no,” Jeph said, leaning forward and matching the admiral’s intensity with his own determination. “The scientists you’ve sent down may be the best you’ve got, but they have egos to match their credentials. We’ve tried to have them work under our people, and only narrowly escaped bloodshed. I will not allow that to happen when my people are in this kind of environment.”
“Friction is always the result of both parties,” Nakamiru said.
“I hate to say it, but it really is on our side,” Jameson said. “Governor Cochrane’s people have been most accommodating.”
“Our people should be better disciplined than this,” Jeffers said.
“Actual FleetCom personnel would probably be more suited to this, since they understand a chain of command,” Jeph said. “Academics, by the nature of their education and their usual professional environment, are accustomed to competing with each other for grants and support. They are not used to working under a command structure, and this is critical in physically challenging situations like we have here.”
“Do we have any suitable people on the roster?” Roja asked, looking at Captain Jeffers for an answer.
“There are several that may be suitable,” Dutch said. “I have scanned your ship’s crew listings and I can provide you a list.”
“You’ve done what?” Jeffers said.
“I have analyzed the background and personnel files of your crew, and have compiled a list of candidates that would be ego-dynamically suited to work in the environment, and who also possess sufficient scientific or engineering credentials to master the skills necessary,” Dutch said.
“Who gave you permission?”
“I have been communicating with the AA systems on the Armstrong as well as the ones on the Challenger, Archer, and Galen since shortly after your arrival,” it explained. “I anticipated this eventuality and planned accordingly.”
“Solo was one of those I’m sure,” Roja said, shaking her head. “It’s almost as autonomous as Dutch is. We’ll deal with the security implications later. For now we need to get this worked out.”
“Yes ma’am,” Jeffers said, clamping down on her frustration.
We’ve pissed them all off. Jeph thought, shaking his head and looking at Danel.
“So if we bring down these suitable crewmembers, you will put them with your team?” the admiral asked.
Chei shook his head. “Not until they learn enough of the language to know how to read the equipment.”
“I have to agree with Chei,” Jeph said. “Nobody should go past the back wall of the matrix until they know enough to be safe.”
“And how long will that take?” Nakamiru asked.
“Three to four weeks to reach a minimum language proficiency, if they work diligently,” Dutch said.
“Then we can get them sent down as soon as we return to the ship,” Roja said.
“That isn’t possible either,” Jeph said. “Our atmosphere and waste reclamation systems are above capacity now. We cannot accept additional personnel until the new facilities are ready.”
“Frag this,” Roja hissed, rolling her eyes and sighing.
She really doesn’t like being told she can’t have her way
. Jeph thought, struggling to hide a very undiplomatic smile.
“We’ll just take the scientists back to the Armstrong and trade them out for more suitable people,” the admiral offered.
Dr. Jameson shook his head and cleared his throat nervously. “I’ve got people who are weeks into studying the shanak-che primers. If you pull them off of that—”
“Yah, their fragile academic egos will be utterly destroyed and they will all commit horrible, violent, suicide,” Roja snarled. The glare she shot him almost knocked him from his chair. “That would solve the problem, too.”
Chei laughed, and Jeph fired off a matching hairy eyeball in his direction.
“If the Tacra Un continues construction at its present rate, the new facilities will be complete in approximately three weeks,” Dutch said.
“At that point, we should be able to support several hundred full-time residents,” Jeph said. “I’m afraid that’s the best we can do.”
Personal Quarters of the Executive Director: Galileo Station:
“Why are you delaying Lassiter’s execution? You wanted him dead.” Derek jumped at the intrusion. He was showering and trying to ignore the thoughts that had been grinding away at his desire to continue.
“It‘s my decision,” he said out loud.
“He is a waste of resources,” Odysseus said. “He should be eliminated as soon as possible.”
“Why are you worried about it?” he said, again using his voice. “Don’t you have other things to pay attention to?”
“I am capable of dealing with many things simultaneously,” it said. “Your well being is one of the things I routinely track.”
“I’m flattered,” he said. “I don’t need you sticking your nose in where it doesn’t need to be.”
“You are aware that I have no olfactory organ, so I assume you are in reference to me being intrusive in your personal affairs.”
“Well now, I am impressed,” he said.
“Your physiological responses tell me that is a factually inaccurate representation,” Odysseus said.
“It’s called sarcasm,” he said, shutting the water off and stepping out under the drying lamps.
“I had no clue there was such a concept,” Odysseus said, mocking him.
Shan Takhu Legacy Box Set - With an Extra Bonus Story Page 66