by E. N. Abel
Tjurin gasped.
''Emm five kay, sir.'' Without visible hesitation Acar hit the pedal. The reactor assembly down below gave a wild, angry hum and the SPEED display on the main screen went nuts: within moments it jumped from a hundred thousand to five-and-a-half million kilometers per hour. Earth just seemed to drop away.
Westinghouse shouted: ''Holy shit!'' and Tjurin's mouth stood open again. Rosskov just gave a satisfied chuckle.
Mike rose. ''Commander, you have the bridge. Bring us to our Lunar parking position.'' Having said this, he left a flattened Russian behind and stepped into the lift, moving upwards.
Marlene's voice floated with him: ''ETA three minutes forty-eight seconds, sir. Automatic intercept maneuver due in three minutes thirty seconds.''
The stunned Russian stared for a moment at the racing distance-measuring display, then cursed: ''Tschjort!'' Turning to Acar he ordered: ''Helm, go back to previous speed. This is a little too fast for an old space dweller like me.''
With a chuckle Acar complied: ''Yes, sir. Returning to Mach-100.'' This also took only moments, and the speed was back to a hundred thousand kilometers per hour.
Marlene, unmoved, reported: ''ETA two hours fifteen minutes, sir.''
Tjurin swallowed hard. In one single minute at M-5000 they had knocked off one quarter of the travel time to the Moon. He turned to Marlene. ''NAV, what would be the optimal course?''
''Optimal like in lowest energy track or optimal like in optimal speed-energy ratio, sir?''
''We are in no hurry, so the first one.''
''As we are already at M-100, the lowest energy solution is to continue the current course, sir. Want the energy usage?''
''No thank you, NAV. Well done. Proceed.'' He lowered himself into the Captain's seat with a hearty sigh. He had over eight thousand hours of space flight under his belt and now was a rookie again.
Chapter 104
Moon Orbit
Friday, 23.12.2016
One deck higher Mike entered Simone's office. Like his quarters, hers had a lockable door, too.
''Monie,'' he greeted her. ''You wanted to see me?''
''Yes, Mike.'' She pointed at a seat in front of her desk. ''Sit.'' That was a bad start. Mike took a seat. ''We have a problem, Mike,'' Simone opened the conversation, thereby already setting a direction. ''A possible leak.''
''Report, please.''
''You know I have all on-board channels watched and recorded.'' Mike nodded. ''Last night a digital message was sent to Earth. From our main radio transmitter. It was encrypted.'' She looked at Mike, but he kept silent, waiting for the rest. ''I gave it to Chan.'' That drew a frown. ''I know, I know,'' she downplayed the issue, ''you said to leave her in peace till after New Year, but ...'' Again Mike remained silent, waiting. ''Anyway, she cracked the code.'' Simone pushed a pad computer over to him. MacMillan did not pick it up, just looked at Simone, kept waiting. ''OK, I acted against your orders. But I judged it to be of utmost importance.''
Mike took a breath: ''Please continue.''
''The message is in High-Arabic, transmitted medium-band, pointed at the Middle East. I knew that before I went to Chan.'' It sounded like an excuse.
''Simone,'' Mike spoke silently, ''the day I don't trust your judgement any more, will be my funeral day.'' He waved his hand challengingly. ''Go on, please.''
Simone took a deep breath, visibly relieved. ''Chan cracked it. The text says weekly report and that we are going to pick up EVA specialists in Geneva today. It even contains the names of the experts and the ETA. The end of the message has several groups of nouns, meaningless by themselves.''
''Assertions. Statements about the validity of the message.'' Meaning: known to the receiver only.
''Yes, they could mean anything.''
''What do you think?''
''I think we have a major problem, Mike. We have a mole on board, an agent of an unknown power. Mission unknown. The message could be disinformation. Beyond the verifiable content we have nothing. Even the language could be a deceit.''
''Or an attempt to seed distrust towards our middle-eastern crew members.''
''That's one of the possibilities, yes.''
''I hereby declare a class-one incident, Monie. Act according to our plans.''
''Yes, Captain.''
Mike shook his head. ''What a nightmare - this is something I had feared from the beginning. Anyway, thank you, dear. Now I will send up Tjurin. Brief him.''
''The Russian?'' Simone sounded unbelievingly.
''Our new First Officer, Monie,'' Mike made the rebuke sound soft. ''Please show him some respect. And always remember: he's the most experienced man on board, a far better captain than me. Our best resource when it comes to everyday space duty. And you can expect him to know what a spy on a spaceship can do. Or a saboteur. Brief him.''
''Yes, Captain.''
With a deep sigh, Mike rose: ''Thank you, my dear. Whatever I can do for you ...''
''I know. Thank you, too. Don't worry, Margaret is keeping a close eye on me. Just remember your promise.''
Mike nodded and turned to leave. On his way out he heard Simone speak to their chief engineer: ''Alex, we have a class-one. Plan 64c.'' That meant a huge step up in on-board security and a discreet military guard on all core systems - at all times. With only five ex-soldiers at hand an impossible task. He would have to talk this over with his senior staff: Rosskov, Snider, Hamilton, Goldman, and now his new Number One, Tjurin. Maybe they had an idea for a way to trap the spy.
Chapter 105
Moon Orbit
Saturday, 24.12.2016
Due to the restricted space on board, the senior staff meeting took place in the galley. The five officers had gathered around the biggest table, coffee in front of them. They were already briefed, so Mike only needed to present a summary. ''Ladies, Gentlemen,'' he concluded his short speech, ''we have a very serious situation on hand. We don't have any idea about the person's intention, so we have to treat this as a massive security breach.''
''Out here,'' Tjurin picked up, ''this means a life-and-death situation. The ship is just too vulnerable. If the spy turns to sabotage, he just has to open the air lock ...''
''Wouldn't work,'' Alex cut him short.
''Sorry?''
''We are not as vulnerable as you might think.''
Tjurin furrowed his brows. ''What do you mean?''
''One: we have separated computer networks. The navigation-, defence- and engine control systems are divided by the very best firewalls we could set up. So someone who can access the communication system can't automatically access the reactor control. Or the air lock.'' Alex took a breath: ''Two. If you open the air lock or puncture the hull nothing will happen.''
That aroused the Colonel interest: ''How's that?''
''Grav Trap. You open the door and the air pressure will drop. That happens, a grav generator automatically jumps in. Produces a gravitational well of four G in less than a microsecond. Keeps the air right in. And everything else.''
Tjurin looked amazed: ''Wow. Who came up ...''
Simone interrupted him: ''See, we knew we were vulnerable from the beginning. We had to take in personnel other than the troopers. Graduates and students from the universities the original group attended. People from many nations. Like me - I'm an Israeli. And as you never know a person's thoughts, we had to take precautions. So this ship is as safe as we could build it. Invisible firewalls everywhere, within the IT systems, the machinery, the whole ship.''
''I'm impressed,'' Tjurin said. ''If your system is as secure as you claim, we should be fairly safe.''
''Yes,'' Mike followed up, ''That's our assessment too. But you never know ...''
''... how clever your adversary really is, or how deep the penetration,'' Tjurin completed the sentence. ''That part I do understand.''
''You have any ideas?''
The Commander showed a little sad smile: ''You mean, me as a Russian knowing about sabotage?''
; Mike smiled, too. He knew exactly what his First Officer was referring to: the fear of sabotage by foreign agents had been a mass neurosis in the former USSR.
''No,'' Alex picked up the answer, ''we mean you as a commander of an international space station.''
Tjurin remained silent for a while. Then he suddenly turned to Simone: ''Tell me about your trap.''
''What trap?'' Simone replied innocently.
''Come on, don't tell me ...''
A short look at Mike, a nod from him, and Simone took a breath. ''We could try a classic canary trap.''
''Present some false or manipulated information so the spy forwards it?''
''Yes.''
''You have no one on the other side. A canary trap only works if you can read the recipient's hand,'' the Russian objected.
''That's right,'' Simone admitted, realising that the Colonel seemed to know a thing or two about the counterintelligence business.
Tjurin smiled. ''Come on, Miss Double-Oh-Seven, as little as I know about you - I'm sure you have already set one up.'' That caused a general laughter.
Mike leaned forward, it was time to end the dancing: ''Tell him, Monie.''
Everybody could see that the ship's Head of Intelligence didn't like that order at all. It took her a visible effort to start speaking: ''Our opponent has been able to transmit a message through our ship's communication system towards Earth. A system that has been audited and reviewed a few times and that I thought to be secure.'' It sounded as if she took personal offence. ''And that happened during last night's shift. So he - or she - must either be a member of that shift and have accessed the comm console during an unnoticed moment, or he or she accessed it remotely.''
Mike was sure now: she did take offence; her tone now clearly indicated that - she took it personally. Probably because she had screened the crew herself.
''You can initiate an external radio connection only from the main communication console itself,'' Simone went on. ''This is because we use an unsophisticated, rather cheap short wave and VHF transmitter and had to single-point it into that panel.''
''OK, so?''
''Every workstation outside the bridge has a build-in camera. Normally they are switched off.''
''So now you have switched them on.''
''No.''
Tjurin seemed confused, looked questioning.
''There are hidden ceiling cameras in every room, glass fibre micro cams,'' Simone explained. ''Some of them are pointing at the work stations.''
''A secretly installed surveillance network ... a spiderweb.''
''Yes. I've activated them.''
''So while people think they only have to avoid the workstation cameras,'' Tjurin said, ''in fact they are being watched by the hidden cameras. Is there more?''
''Spyware monitoring all intranet activities.''
''Well, that sounds good,'' Tjurin complimented.
''No, it doesn't,'' Alex disagreed. He took a deep breath. ''Too predictable. Our opponent is very sophisticated, acts very clever. We have to expect him to know our security protocols.''
Again Tjurin seemed confused. ''How would you know? His secret message was discovered.''
''Yes,'' Mike agreed, ''but he - or she - escaped Simone's scrutiny. And that takes more than hiding a message. You have experienced a little of what this means on yourself.''
Tjurin surely remembered the remark about a poached tiger-musky. He looked from one participant to the next, seeing a closely welded group. ''I have the impression,'' he finally smiled, ''that you guys have already cooked something up.''
Simone sighed. ''I've checked the comm logs. The internal, not the official, ones. It turns out that our friend has been sending one message per week. Each one between five and seven days apart.''
''Progress reports.''
''Yes, it looks like that.''
''You don't think you can identify him by intercepting those?''
''No. Probably pre-stored data, sent by timer software around corners.''
Suddenly Tjurin understood. ''You want him to break routine, to flinch. Send a transmission outside this rhythm. Thereby exposing himself a bit.'' Silence. ''So you need a fat bait - an event important enough for him to send an urgent report.'' Again silence. ''And you haven't found one yet.''
''Correct.'' This came from Mike.
''I'll think about it.''
''Thanks. Now, something else.'' Mike leaned forward. ''As far as I understand you plan to begin EVA training soon. Like, how to don the suits correctly, how to behave in an airless environment, comm rules, such things''
''Yes, I wanted to start today at 1400.''
''Good. You will have an Asian woman in the first group.''
''The beautiful Chinese lady?''
''Yes. Chan Li. Alex's girl friend.''
''Oh.'' Tjurin smiled amused, and, looking towards Rosskov: ''You are a lucky man.''
''She's our single hope to crack the last problem with the super light drive - no interstellar travel without her. Chan is a prodigious mathematician.''
''And you are putting her on an outside mission. A rookie.''
''Yes. It's your job to protect her.''
''I understand.''
''Good. Understand this, too ...'' Mike smiled inwardly: Tjurin surely would expect a threat of some kind now. He went on: ''NASA is building a second ship for us, a nutshell like the one we have here. It will need a Captain. And incidentally we all here agree that no-one is better suited or qualified than you.'' This was accompanied by agreeing nods and murmurs around the table.
Tjurin was speechless. MacMillan had done it again: surprise a man who, as a professional, hated surprises. But he also had planted a dream ... and what a dream ... Captain of an interstellar vessel ... ''Let's get back to work,'' Mike said, closing the meeting. ''Tonight we'll have a little feast. I heard that Theresa is preparing a Christmas dinner for us all ... God knows where she's got all the turkeys from.''
Chapter 106
Moon Orbit
Sunday, 25.12.2016
Marlene awoke with a start experiencing an intense wave of anxiety. It took her a moment to realise what had ripped her from her sleep: Mike was gone - again. She switched on a bedside light and peeked at the clock: four-thirty. Same as yesterday and the day before. This time she wanted to know. Silently she got up, slipped into her dressing gown and stepped out of the chamber. All was quiet around her. She moved forward, stepped into the lift, drifted down and exited onto a silent bridge.
The XO was sitting in the Captain's chair, his back to her and seemed to be snoozing. But when she stepped closer, he suddenly turned, recognising her. For a long moment he looked at her, considering, then said quietly: ''Deck Five, freezer chamber.'' Tjurin nodded towards the lift. ''I advise discretion.''
Astonished about this reaction Marlene turned back to the lift, stepped in and pushed down, reaching the lower deck in seconds. Before she could move out of the zero-G zone, she saw Michael and immediately knew what Tjurin had meant. There, two meters in front of her, the door of the freezer unit was open and a large plastic container had been pulled out, its lid partially opened. Mike, with his back to her, was sitting on the edge of Ellie's makeshift coffin. Marlene saw him stroking his lost wife's frosty hair, his shoulders twitching in soundless crying.
Marlene felt hurt. Still floating in the lift she performed a roll in mid air and, without a sound, pushed upwards, leaving her friend mourning his dead wife. He had told her that he would need time, sure, but she felt hurt anyway. She tried to comfort herself with the thought that he would soon come back to her, slip under their blanket and hold her tight. But this observation left a bitter taste. It even overshadowed the happy news of earlier today: the ova had developed into an embryo and had started to grow. She was carrying a three-week-old baby now.
Chapter 107
Geneva
Wednesday, 25.12.2016
When Kaiser entered his friend's office unannounced, Leclerc knew that something was
wrong. The Director stopped in front of Leclerc's large desk and took a deep breath. Instead of a question the Colonel just pointed to a chair, then tilted his head.
Kaiser dropped heavily into the offered seat, sighed again, then said: ''My teams are done. The data is screened and ready for publication. The fattest Christmas present to humanity ever.''
''So?''
''It is what MacMillan told us: the data contains everything to build antigrav devices and to produce antimatter.''
''Did you expect otherwise?''
''No,'' Kaiser said, ''but ...''
''But what?''
''The time, Paul, the time ...''
''You mean the time between their discharge from the Army and them lifting off with their private space ship?''
''Exactly. It is so unbelievably short.'' Kaiser scratched his head. ''I see you have noticed, too.''
''Yes. Just five years after they step back onto American soil, they come up with this brand new, super-advanced technology. And one that is actually applicable.''
''You think that's possible?''
''Don't know. You are the scientist. Is it possible?''
''For us: no. I mean, the theories have to be developed, the transfer to real world technology made, the applications planned, constructed, tested. Then that sphere ... a working antigravitational space ship ... that takes off vertically like a chopper and flies right to the Moon ... in four hours.''
''So it's impossible.''
''Again: for us.''
Leclerc scratched his head, then, after a moment of contemplation, asked: ''OK, how would it become possible?''
''What do you mean?''
''I mean: what would you need to have to make it possible. Build such a space ship in five years?''
''Everything.'' Kaiser laughed out. ''See, they supposedly started with the space-time theories of that guy Heim, a self-taught and unrecognised physicist. His theories contain the highest and most unfathomable mathematics I have ever encountered. Geometry on a level nobody has ever seen.''