by Bob Mauldin
Within days of Galileo’s arrival back at Earth, dozens of scientists had had to use the recall function on their wristbands to escape durance vile. Government agents, most certainly, but in some cases it wasn’t exactly certain, which specific governments were being represented. And the new hires were reporting advance visits from solemn-faced men warning of dire consequences if their edicts weren’t met.
Simon quietly congratulated himself. One of the best ways, he had learned many years before, was that if you wanted a project or idea to leak out, was to try to be mysterious about it. Truth be known, visibility was what he wanted, and as much as possible. The fact of their existence had been spread all over television, radio and even the tabloids, for crying out loud. Now, that didn’t mean much to Joe Average, even when the headlines read, “Earth has Spaceships!” Conspiracy theorists had a field day right after the first disappearances, especially those who managed to get air-time on some of the late-night talk shows. Every possible answer for the disappearances was forwarded, including the right one, which got little mention after the anonymous caller got off of the toll-free line.
Eventually, the calls died out almost completely. Those who knew for sure kept a low profile during the first set of absences, and those who only suspected could never turn up so much as one body. So no one outside the government had enough proof to do more than speculate ... until now.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The efforts of the group Simon had come to think of as Lucy’s people brought new faces up at the rate of a dozen a day, and, not surprisingly, a lower incidence of interference with them from government agents as it was almost impossible to pick out who was being approached to join up. The science-fiction crowd was more open to the possibility that the Galileo really existed and were easier to convince to go for a ride.
The rumors and stories told by people who had been approached but declined to join the original mission, coupled with the return of people known to have disappeared almost a year ago, had the Galileo fully crewed two weeks after arrival in spite of governmental interference. And of course it didn’t hurt that CBS kept replaying the John Grant interview. Nor did it hurt when the other major affiliates began airing similar interviews to the point that they became commonplace in less time than it took to get the ship re-crewed.
There were a few problems that needed to be attended to, but most of them could be handled by delegation of authority. Two problems stood out. Simon, Gayle, and Stephen held council in the ready-room. Simon, being Simon, took the easy ones first. There were more applicants than they had room for. “Take applications,” he said. “I mean by that, get their names and numbers and tell them we’ll get in touch with them when we have another mission going out. As far as the new recruits, we only take those who we can get someone already aboard to personally vouch for.”
Simon had been following the news as it was beamed from pirated satellite intercepts directly to Galileo and Orion. Election campaigns were just heating up. How that would affect their actions was unclear. President Drake was running for re-election based on his record of having stomped so hard on terrorist groups around the world, doing his best to maximize the fact that the Republican agendas had effectively gutted the stock market and brought the country to the brink of depression.
The Democrats were working to keep Michael Drake in the Oval Office so his more moderate policies would help to reduce the violence directed at Americans and American interests around the world. The eternal hatred of the have-not’s for the have’s would ameliorate any positive effects that ploy would have, though, Simon feared.
Stephen had been investigated during his absence by the FBI, and other agencies, as well. Most of the missing scientists who had gone joy-riding on Galileo suffered the same fate, even to having their relatives checked for suspicious activities. The flurry of investigations over the mass disappearances of almost eight hundred people from the Denver area had produced few real connections between most of the missing persons beyond a curious affinity for science-fiction. An east coast reporter working on the disappearance of so many scientists at about the same time, noted the same curious fact, though it was buried among many other observations and never really got the attention it deserved.
Gayle’s disappearance, along with a few others, some of whom she had a passing connection with, caused a minor stir in Billings local news stories for about two weeks. Simon and Kitty were mentioned as well in a separate article as was the disappearance of half a dozen young men thought by some to have gone off to a religious retreat. She visited her parents with Simon on her second day back. They had called, made sure her folks were home, then told them the story. To prove it, they beamed into the living room of her parent’s house.
The first thing they heard was her mother’s scream, and the second was her father’s profanity. Half an hour later, after her mother had recovered from her faint, Simon and Gayle showed a video of all the things they had done over the last year, courtesy of Kitty who had had the foresight to take a camcorder aboard, along with dozens of tapes.
Simon and Kitty, though, were not quite so lucky. Since Kitty’s parents had died in an automobile accident when she was twenty-two, they had lived in the house she had acquired from her mother’s estate. Using part of her inheritance to set up an account that would pay all the property taxes automatically, they figured that they had all their bases covered. What they hadn’t figured on was the tenacity of Agent Daniels.
Gayle’s father was the one to break the news to Simon. “There was an FBI agent here asking about you shortly after Gayle left. And he stopped by several times after that, too. He seemed to think that you were involved, but we told him that you couldn’t have done something like that. He was intimating that you had killed her without using those words. I think now that it was just to get us rattled and tell whatever we knew, but what could we think, you know?”
“That’s not a problem, Mr. Miller,” Simon said positively. “I’ve dealt with this guy before and so has Kitty, if he’s the same one. I was planning to go over to the house and pick up a few things I know Kitty would like to have when we get back. I think I’ll call him from there and get something started that’s going to set this whole world on its collective ear. If I haven’t already done so,” he amended sheepishly.
Simon beamed into their house to find it totally empty. Taped to a telephone sitting on the floor, the only thing left in the house, was a note from the overzealous agent. “If you want to get your property back, contact me.” At the bottom was a local number.
Waiting for the connection to be made let Simon get his emotions back under control. Somewhat. At the sound of the agent’s voice, Simon growled, “Okay, you thief. You’ve got my attention. You may decide that it was a bad idea on your part. Get over here and tell me what you want.” Beaming back to the ship, he picked up a transporter disk and called Lucy for backup. The two beamed back into the house and waited for the soon-to-arrive Agent Daniels.
“I’ll give him some credit, Commander,” Simon said as a grey sedan pulled up in front of the house. “It only took him about fifteen minutes to get here. Now, we’re going to put an end to his interference.”
The agent walked through the open door without so much as a knock. “Well, Mr. Hawke, I’m glad to see that you’ve come to your senses. You want to tell me what’s going on, now?”
Simon just grinned. Tigers would run from his expression. “Sure, Agent. I’ll be happy to. You see, you guys were right. We were out there when the ship landed. Oh, yes,” he said at the startled expression, “it was a ship. And we managed to get away with it just before the storm troopers showed up. Here’s just one of the smaller things we found aboard our pretty, new ship.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a transporter disk.
Simon hadn’t informed Lucy about his plan to virtually kidnap the agent. She watched him toss it to the agent and a small noise escaped her. “Don’t worry, Commander,” Simon said softly. �
��He’ll find out sooner or later, anyway. If we make a clean breast of things, we might get some leniency. Right, Agent? Besides, you’ve got to be up on all the stuff going on with all of our people showing back up after all this time, right? You were expecting me, weren’t you? How else would you have been here in just fifteen minutes?”
Simon drooped one eyelid at Lucy as the agent’s eyes rose from the disk in his hand. “So? What is it?” he asked, pointedly refusing to answer any of the questions Simon put to him. “And how does the girl rate the title of Commander?”
Simon spoke from across the room. “Just as to-the-point as ever, aren’t you, Agent? Only this time, you managed to see to it that we didn’t get to keep our stuff. Petty of you. Real petty. And this ‘girl’ rates the title of commander because she does a commander’s job. Just like I do a captain’s job.”
The agent, face reddening, answered the accusation. “Petty? No. You can have your stuff back. I just wanted to get your attention.”
Simon had been pacing around his empty living room. “Well, you managed to get it, friend. Now let’s see if you don’t come up regretting it.” He had stopped pacing right in front of Lucy. Standing with his hands behind his back, Simon watched the agent examine the disk in his hands. Pressing the spot that activated his beam-out along with the slaved disk Daniels held, he transported back to the ship.
Immediately upon his arrival, he called out, “Security. Arrest that man.” Pointing at the agent standing there in total shock, he watched as the two security personnel first disarmed him, and then stepped back. “Okay, Lieutenants, I accept responsibility for this man. Hold on to his weapon until he is cleared to beam back down.”
Simon turned back to the speechless agent and watched as he suffered another shock. The standard, person-tall shower of blue sparks formed over one of the hexagonal spaces and Lucy materialized in the middle. The sparks died and she stepped off the spot. Bringing the agent back to reality after he witnessed his first beam-in, Simon said, “That’s why you and your people aren’t going to get what you want this time, Agent. Come with us and you’ll see just what it is we found.”
A quick tour of the ship ended up in the ready-room. Simon seated himself, then waved to the other chairs. “Sit anywhere, Agent. Let me present my First Officer, Commander Lucy Grimes, my Science Officer, Commander Stephen Walker, Ph. D., and my Communications Officer, Commander Gayle Miller.” As he slowly dropped into a vacant chair, Lucy sat also, followed by Gayle and Stephen who had attached themselves along the way.
Keeping in mind the fully crewed nature of the ship and the impending departure that had everyone running around like a stirred-up anthill, he asked, “Okay, tell me. Are you going to release my stuff, now? And put it back?”
Gasping like a fish out of water, the stunned agent asked, “Is that all you can think about? Look around you!”
The four looked at the agent instead. “What do you think we’ve been looking at for the last year, Agent ... Daniels, is it?” This from Gayle as she turned her full attention, devastating when she so chose, on him. “And how about you try to guess what we’ve been doing for the last year.” Leaning across the table, she picked up a remote control. Pointing it at a TV to one side of the room, she started the tape Kitty had begun making right after the Galileo reached the asteroid belt.
Instantly, a view of the stars showed clearly in the small screen. Time-lapse editing showed Orion begin to take shape from the things shuttled from the bigger ship. More scenes passed. Shuttles and fighters bringing in material for the smelter, people playing Z-tag, two construction pods sliding an assembly into place while another welded a seam. Leaning toward the agent as the screen went dark, Gayle, cleavage exposed for effect, asked the faltering agent. “Quick, Agent. What are you going to do, now? Arrest us? All eight hundred of us? What about the ones out in the asteroid belt? How are you going to get at them? Do you have any answers to any of these questions?”
Forcing his eyes to travel up to Gayle's face, the agent stammered, “I… don’t know. I suspected something, of course. But, this ... I need to pass this on to my superiors.”
Stephen decided to have a little fun of his own. “So, tell me, Agent. Just what are you going to do when you find out that your bosses know all about us? That they’ve been keeping you in the dark all this time? Just what can you say that won’t get you shipped off to ... some place very remote and cold?”
“Well, I…” Getting some of his composure back, Agent Daniels asserted, “I’m just going to have to confiscate that video.”
As he started to get to his feet, Lucy raised a hand. “Don’t get up, Agent. I’ll get it for you.” Pulling the tape from the machine, she slipped it into a plastic case. Smiling wickedly, she said, “I don’t think you’re going to confiscate anything off this ship that we don’t want you to have, Agent, so let me save you the trouble and make you a gift of this particular tape. We have so many copies.”
Handing it to him, she said, “Some of the equipment on this ship, we call her Galileo by the way, is very much from Earth. Nowhere did we find any evidence of videotaping for personal use although they do have a way to store videos in the ship’s main computer. We haven’t had any reports from our scientific staff to that effect, anyway.”
Half an hour later, Agent Daniels, dismissed by Simon and his other officers, made the trip back to the transporter with only Gayle as an escort. Armed with the videotape and his pistol, unloaded, he was about to be transported back to Earth. “Tell me, Agent, just where is the superior that you have to report to?” Gayle asked, all innocence.
Standing on one of the hexes, he said, “Washington, DC.”
She signaled the transporter tech to step aside and handled the beam-down herself. “Well, I hope you don’t have any problems getting that tape to him. You do realize that time is of the essence, don’t you? Good luck, Agent. We’ll see you in anywhere from six months to a year.” She looked over the control board settings and, nodding to herself, reached out to activate the system.
As Gayle was about to energize the beam, the agent spoke hurriedly. “And tell Mr. Hawke, I will have his house restored to normal right away.”
Gayle looked at the reeling agent. “That’s Captain Hawke, and don’t forget it!” Reaching out again, this time she energized the beam and Agent Daniels sparkled out of their lives.
Simon walked slowly, almost aimlessly, through the ship and eventually found himself outside the bridge. Entering, he sat down in the vacant command chair, lost in thought. The young lieutenant on bridge duty asked if there was anything she could do for him. “Not at the moment, Lt. Kimura. Can’t sleep and I need to think. Sometimes sitting here helps.” She nodded deferentially and turned back to her studies.
Stephen had his share of difficulties, too. It had been hoped that a solar cell project would generate some revenue that could be used to re-supply the ship with luxury items or used to perhaps pay for the time of someone whose expertise was needed and couldn’t afford to be gone long without recompense. Stephen had recommended an engineer for the project and recruited him, turning over a considerable amount of information from Galileo’s data banks early on so he could begin production of these advanced cells.
Stephen beamed down to see the friend he had put in charge of the project. Getting no answer to a phone call, he beamed into the house and sat down to wait. An hour and two beers later, Victor McCord unlocked his door, turned on the light, and, to his credit, didn’t flinch. His eyes took in the two empties sitting on the table beside Stephen and he brought another two from the kitchen, opening one for himself and handing the other to his friend. “Okay, spill it,” Victor said without preamble. “And if it’s not the best damn story I’ve ever heard, that’s the last beer you’ll ever get from me.”
For the next half an hour, Stephen talked, the beer mostly forgotten except to wet his throat. He finished and sat back, arms crossed. Victor brought another beer. “Well, you
do spin a great yarn, friend. Now, how do you convince me?”
A crooked grin on his face, Stephen asked, “Do you really want to be convinced?” At his friend’s slow nod, Stephen handed him one of the tapes Kitty had made.
An hour and two more beers later, Victor argued, “This is good, I’ll admit. But I’ve seen better special effects at the movies. Got anything else?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. How would you like to see where I got the data on those cells you’re so busy turning out?” At the engineer’s bemused nod, Stephen tossed him a disk. Climbing out of the armchair he had appropriated when he beamed in, he warned, “This will be easier if you’re standing, Vic.” Looking down at the disk in his hand, confusion on his face, Victor stood up. Stephen advised, “Remember, buddy. You asked for it!” and activated his wristband.
Victor was convinced. Finally. They sat in the mess hall, drinking coffee he had seen materialize out of bright blue sparkles. They talked about the problems associated with the solar cell project. Very few, actually. The patents had gone through, and he had drawn some interest from the private sector. But the big surprise was the defense contractor who wanted exclusive rights. Remembering Stephen’s request, he had demurred and gone ahead with the project privately. Some speculative money had come in, he had taken an option to lease on a building that would be the manufacturing facility, and some of his friends were re-tooling existing equipment to fabricate the new cells. The batteries would be farmed out to another company, built to the specifications Stephen stipulated. Galileo’s return had coincided with the next phase of Victor’s job, the actual production of the new cells and their storage batteries.