Twisted Spaces: 1 / Destination Mars

by E. N. Abel

  You have one hour.''

  An outcry of fury echoed through the room. All this on the Internet! And then this outrageous demand! They would never kowtow to this! A wave of pure, white rage thundered through the meeting room, into the hallway.

  A third adjutant came running in right at the climax of this rage, yelling in panic: ''Counter-Revolution! Open rebellion! People are assembling by the thousands in Tiananmen Square!''

  Xao leaned back and ignored the uproar around him. He had foreseen that the public rage would turn against his colleagues. If one ignored the part about the hostage, the demand of the attackers was totally reasonable and far less than he had expected. And with regard to the hostage demand: he had a hunch that the opposite side had somehow identified Chan already and knew who she was - at least at some level. That would make it impossible to simply substitute her - and an attempt to cheat on them would be a high-risk move, considering the current situation. Handing over Chan would be a colossal loss, sure, but a small price for the survival of the city. Xao was certain: she would understand and bow to her fate. Then there also was the waiting canary trap ... all in all not too bad a result for such a mess.

  Chin Feng interrupted his thoughts: ''You know there is something strange.''

  ''You mean besides a nuclear explosion over Beijing without casualties?''

  ''Exactly, sir. That's it. See, although our missile base at Quan-Yang was destroyed, erased from Earth so to say, no one got killed.''

  ''Really? How so?''

  ''The guard platoon had withdrawn to the one-kilometer ring before the ICBM launch, and had not been ordered back yet. And the control station ...''

  ''Let me guess: it was too deep.''

  ''Yes. Looks like we were twice lucky.''

  ''Threefold, I would say. Where are they now?''

  The Lieutenant smiled, then whistled a song. Xao recognised it at once: Frank Sinatra's Fly me to the Moon ... ''On the way to the Moon?''

  ''Yes. ETA three hours and a bit.''

  Xao lifted his brows, whistled softly: ''Wow.''

  Both laughed at the Americanism from the Generals mouth.

  Chapter 77

  Moon Orbit

  Tuesday, 15.11.2016

  It was mid-morning, the day after the attacks, when Margaret saw Marlene briskly entering her 'sick bay', a small compartment on deck four, right on the outer hull. Space enough for an integrated examination and operating table, a desk, two chairs and some built-in medical lockers and devices fitted to the outer hull.

  She looked up from a report on her desk: ''So?''

  ''I'll do it.''

  ''Do what?''

  ''Both.''

  ''You are willing to conceive and carry the child of Michael and Ellie MacMillan full term?''

  ''Yes.''

  ''You understand the price?''

  ''Besides the usual risks of a pregnancy?''

  ''Yes.''

  ''If he does not throw me out of his bed at once, he might drop me after the first night. When he learns I'm pregnant, he might ditch me, too. And if we stay together and he learns the truth about his first child, he might ditch me even harder.''

  ''That about covers it.'' The doctor, nodding, reached into her lab coat's pocket, withdrew a small sample container and held it to Marlene.

  With a deep sigh the young woman took the tube, eyeing it sceptically. ''Do I have to sign anything?''

  ''No,'' Margaret replied very sober. ''This is a question of honour, not a legal thing.'' She could see that Marlene had no clear grasp of what that meant, so she added: ''Mike has taken you in yesterday. Now you are part of the team, liable for our protection, and entitled to all of ours. Yesterday the team has defeated the attack of a superpower, right?''

  Marlene nodded, astonished about the explanation.

  ''Believe it or not, Alex was right. That was an easy task. It was easy because we were well prepared, well equipped and well led. Each and every one of us could have done the leading, but Mike is the best at command, time proven; does the right thing at the right time, instinctively. That's why we follow him. Be assured, we've accomplished far more risky missions than this one. And survived. You are part of it now. Understand?''

  A bit overawed Marlene nodded. ''OK. But I'm a bit afraid, I must admit. Like, before the first time.''

  ''You love him, Marlene, you know it and I know it.'' Margaret spoke very kindly now. ''And you've done so for quite some time. Go with your feelings.'' She paused. ''I need the material within four days.''

  This said, she dismissed the young woman, returning to her report sheet, the medical report of a Chinese woman named Chan Li, now their latest addition. A moment later she looked up again, followed the departing Marlene with her eyes, then mumbled in a gentle voice: ''Stupid girl. If he finds out about your sacrifice, he will love you forever.''

  Chapter 78

  Rome

  Wednesday, 17.11.2016

  The man, having watched the CNN report about the developments in China for the last hour, turned to his aide: ''A new factor has entered the game. Raise an exception, we need to meet.''

  Chapter 79

  Moon Orbit

  Thursday, 17.11.2016

  In the sphere the night shift was on duty. Everything was quiet, just the constant, soothing hum of the antimatter reactor drifted through the ship. The night shift crew, reduced to four people on the bridge, were leaning back in their seats and relaxed: the computers were on guard anyway. Here, above Moon's north pole, only a stray asteroid was to be feared, and the big ones would be detected and avoided by automatic evasive action, the little ones deviated or fended off by the gravimetric deflector shield.

  The day shift crew was sleeping in their beds scattered in diverse niches all over the little ship; narrow bunks with a simple curtain to keep off superficial light. Privacy was an absolute luxury on board. So there were only two 'restrooms' available, in reality two small, enclosed wet cells containing a washbasin, a shower and a toilet. Five more toilet cubicles were installed, one on every deck. They contained a washbasin too, but that was it.

  There was one exception, though. While the rest of the sphere was packed with technology and supplies to the point that someone could develop claustrophobia, the crew had insisted on a separate quarter for their leader. Initiator of this requirement had been the military complement of the group, and they had argued their case well enough to convince the others: that a tired leader was a useless leader and that a leader had to carry the weight for everybody else on board. Because of this he needed privacy to sort things out - and rest. So during the construction phase in Spangdahlem a little room on the deck above the bridge had been separated, insulated against sound, fitted with a bed and a tiny sanitation cell and, most important, a lockable door. In line with Earth Navy's traditions the room had been baptised 'Captain's Quarters' and a fitting sign on its door.

  Captain, that was now Michael MacMillan's official title, and a small coin-sized golden star attached to his uniform collar demonstrated this to the outside world. The voting for a ship's leader two days ago had been nearly in unison (only one abstention - their Chinese 'hostage' had chosen not to vote) and that even after Mike had clearly warned them all about his harsh leadership style. The ex-military complement of the crew knew that and didn't give a damn. The other part had just lived through an attack with a Chinese ICBM and had watched in awe how a cool bridge crew under Michael's command had first fended that off, then followed up with successful counter-attack on the launching superpower.

  Early this evening all the ex-soldiers had hailed Mike down to the docking bay where a table and stools had been set up, waiting for them with a case of fine Cognac a mindful Colonel Leclerc had added to the last supply load. There, behind a curtain, they had marked Ellie's demise in their own, rough way. Drinking excessively, cursing, laughing, crying. The whole crew had listened in silence, stayed out of the way and grieved quietly with Mike. It had just taken two hours, then they watched how a ha
lf-way sober Acar floated his dead-drunk comrades to their bunks and Mike to the Captain's Quarters. The ship stank like a brandy distillery, but nobody complained.

  Now silence had descended and an indecisive Marlene stood in front of the Captain's room, hesitating. Sex with a drunken man wasn't really her idea of good fun, but somehow she didn't dare approach Mike while he was sober. Now, with him disabled a little - more like knocked out cold - she had mustered her courage and walked to the upper deck. She felt awkward, because such behaviour wasn't her normal way, but ...

  The last act now was to ... she opened the door, slipped in, locked up behind her. The small room was barely lit, and a weak glow-light above the door cast weird shadows. The stench of alcohol made her gasp. One more step and she stood in front of Mike's bed. Here Marlene hesitated again, then stepped out of her dress - bra and panties had been left in her bunk - and slipped under his blanket. Immediately she was surrounded by a cloud of alcohol and sweat, felt the hard body of a man pressing against her soft curves. Revulsion rose in her.

  But even in his cognac-induced anaesthesia, Mike must have felt someone female entering his space as he turned a bit to the side, made room and pulled her in close, clasping her in his warm, hairy arms.

  Now with her head against his chest, his alcoholic breath brushing over her and not choking her anymore, his natural odour slowly dominated. A rather pleasant, enjoyable scent, she found, and immediately felt a familiar tickle crawl in her lap. She huddled against him, and after a few deep breaths felt warm, comfortable and utterly safe for the first time in months.

  Sometime later she woke up and found Mike looking at her. He had moved away a bit, watched her lying on her back. Marlene barely dared to breath, fearing to be rejected, kicked out of his bed. But Mike only looked at her in silence for a while. Then suddenly he moved, pulled her towards him, took her in his arms and kissed her hard.

  An hour later he was asleep again. Marlene was lying in his arms, breathing deeply, feeling utterly relaxed and happy. She had always avoided sleeping with a drunken man, but this first encounter with Mike had been a marvellous, fulfilling experience.

  Now it was time for part two. Marlene got up, entered the washing cell and opened Margaret's sample container. It took only a moment, and enough of his semen had flown from her into the little test tube. She cleaned herself and the probe container, then slid into her skirt and left his cabin quietly, rushing to Margaret's office. Following Margaret's instruction she put the tube into a warming cabinet, then hurried back to the Captain's Quarters, into Mike's waiting arms.

  Chapter 80

  Moon Orbit

  Friday, 17.11.2016

  A few meters away Chan Li, sleepless in her bunk, watched the woman slip into the Captains room. Chan envied her a bit, she also longed for a man's embrace, to find closeness and comfort. She felt insecure, alien and utterly alone. Her transfer from Beijing to Geneva and there into the sphere had been one continued rush; she had barely been able to pack her luggage appropriately - one big suitcase, no weight limit - for such a journey. Now the lingering stress of the rapid trip through six time zones, together with the unaccustomed smells and noises of this vessel; the cramped space, the complete absence of privacy and the strange, multi-racial crew, the snoring - it all made for another sleepless night.

  The short meeting with her General before her departure had only added to all these fuzzy feelings. He had been friendly, very gentle but also very clear: This is a once-in-a lifetime chance, Chan. We can plant a confidant right into the heart of a newly rising opponent - an opponent that has a super-advanced technology. They want you to be our blood sacrifice. So go on board, become their hostage. Obey them and integrate, cooperate, observe, learn. Act cleverly. I am not giving you any orders on your way, Chan Li, but never forget who you are and where you come from.

  She turned again, restlessly, when she felt a presence. Opening her eyes she saw a male shape in front of her bed, a man hunching down to level with her face. Slowly he reached out, touched her shoulder ever so lightly.

  ''Come,'' he said quietly, stepped back and held his hand out to her.

  For a moment Chan considered turning him away, but then she threw off her blanket and stood up, took the offered hand. The man turned, and holding her hand gently in his, led her through the darkened deck towards the galley. Chan followed in his wake, barefoot, feeling half naked in her nighty. Fortunately it was warm throughout the ship. When they entered the little cafeteria, he closed the sliding door, switched on the light, then dimmed it down to create a pleasant illumination. Now she could see her kidnapper clearly and recognised him: it was that guy everybody called Alex, the jovial Russian with the booming laughter. A very handsome, even attractive man, at that. Tall, broad shoulders, short dark hair, open face, friendly eyes ...

  ''Please, sit,'' he said in a quiet voice, pointing towards a chair, one with its back to a wall. ''I noticed that you were still awake and couldn't sleep. Like last night.''

  Chan took the seat, admiring his care to make her feel safe by ensuring a wall at her back.

  Alex turned to the coffee maker, pressed some buttons, and the machine produced a large pot of whitish liquid with gurgling sounds. Meanwhile he extracted a stubby bottle from a little refrigerator and poured a good slug of its content into the cup. He cleaned up, then took a seat opposite Chan and put the pot in front of her. The pleasant smell of warm milk, caramel and alcohol streamed up into her nose.

  ''Try it,'' Alex suggested, gesticulating towards the cup.

  She took a careful sip - and was delighted, took another one almost immediately. Hot milky-caramel taste filled her mouth.

  ''Grandma Rosskov's recipe against insomnia,'' the Russian grinned, ''Warm milk with honey. Modified to my own version: replace the cow with soy and the honey with Irish Cream.''

  Chan understood and smiled: ''Thank you.'' She took another sip and felt the warmth of the drink first fill her stomach, then her chest.

  ''So,'' Alex smiled at her, ''you are our latest addition.''

  ''Your hostage, you mean.''

  Alex laughed quietly: ''We may kill people occasionally, but it isn't our custom to take hostages. I'm sure you can leave anytime you wish.''

  ''That's not what your Captain said.''

  ''To you?''

  ''No, to my government.''

  Alex laughed again: ''Yes, I heard that, too. But I also know him. As I said: we don't take hostages. You have nothing to fear.''

  Chan looked at him critically, searching for the lie in his eyes, but there was nothing but friendliness in them. And ... admiration.

  ''What's your profession?'' she finally asked, changing track.

  ''I'm an engineer. The ship's chief engineer, to be more exact. I developed the antimatter reactor, built it and now run it. What's yours?''

  ''I'm a computer specialist.''

  ''A graduated computer scientist?''

  She nodded: ''University of Beijing.''

  ''Major field of study?''

  ''Theoretical computer science and mathematics.''

  Alex was wide-eyed: ''Jeez, and I thought all female computer freaks were ugly, short, flat chested and wore thick glasses ...''

  Chan giggled: ''In the capitalist countries, maybe. But not in China.''

  ''Obviously. You know: Mike is one, too. A computer geek, I mean.''

  ''The Captain?'' She sounded unbelieving, astonished both over the stated fact and the disrespectful naming.

  ''Yes, even has a PhD,'' Alex replied. ''He designed all software systems on the sphere. Including the ones for the reactor and the star drive.''

  Obviously she couldn't believe that and viewed him critically, so he added: ''I said: design, not write. The writing part was done by our IT gang - they are very good. Like the rest of us: you will find that every woman and every man on board of this vessel is a highly trained individual, a specialist of sorts. We are a small crew, but an exceedingly capable one.''

  ''For wh
at reason?''

  ''For the reason we told everybody: we want to build a functioning star drive and travel to a distant solar system.''

  ''You are serious?''

  ''Absolutely. And when Mike learns about your skills, he will be delighted and surely hit you with a worthy task. As far as I'm informed, the space folding machine still has glitches and needs to be reviewed.''

  ''Review a what? A space-folding machine? Me? Are you out of your mind?''

  ''If you're up to it, why not? It's most likely a problem in the control system, a software thing, so don't ask me. But I bet you a dollar, as soon as Mike hears he has another high ranking computer nerd on board, you will have the job. It's the next thing we need to get running.''

  Chan leaned back, disbelieving: ''But I'm a Chinese national! Sent on board against my will! I could be a spy, a saboteur, a suicide bomber! How could he trust me with such an undertaking?''

  ''Same way he trusts me,'' Alex replied, ''I'm a Russian, ex-Speznaz, ex-communist, too. And as I said, I run the heart of this machine.'' He made a circular gesture.

  The Chinese girl took another sip, contemplating. The silence prevailed a while, and Chan emptied her cup.

  ''You are really serious,'' she observed.

  He stood, cleared the table, then held his hand out to her. ''Yes. But now, my Chinese flower, it's time for another attempt at sleep.''

  She took the offered hand, felt herself gently pulled forward. Half expecting to end up in his bed, she found herself in her own bunk in no time. Alex pulled the blanket over her, then put a kiss on his fingers, touched her cheek ever so lightly.

  ''Sleep now, beautiful. Tomorrow is another day.''

  With this he left quietly. Chan, feeling slightly disappointed because she hadn't ended up in his bunk, amused herself a bit with that thought, then relaxed. She was warm and comfortable now, and the loneliness had vanished. A few moments later she was asleep.