At the centre of the table, the
Wright’s
captain, Colonel Weaver, looked at her without any trace of friendship.
‘Are you able to raise your right hand?’
‘Not without difficulty, sir.’
‘Please raise your left hand instead. Do you affirm that the evidence you shall give in the case now in hearing shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Thank you. Please be seated.’ As Clare sat down and eased her arm in its sling, he continued: ‘Please give your full name and rank for the record.’
‘Clare Judith Foster, First Lieutenant, United States Astronautics Corps.’
The captain glanced along the table, and introduced the members of the investigation board. Clare paid attention, but found she couldn’t remember their names beyond the first few. All of them were Captains or higher.
‘Lieutenant Foster, I’m sure you’re aware of why you’re here, but for the record, this is a formal internal investigation conducted by the Astronautics Corps into the multiple loss incident involving the carrier USSV
Langley
and the Olympus-class spaceplane
Aphrodite
three days ago, resulting in the deaths of ten officers and crew.
‘While there will be other investigations conducted by the FSAA, this is a Corps investigation and you are giving evidence under oath. If you provide false evidence, or deliberately omit anything that later comes to light as a result of this or any other investigation, we may take disciplinary procedures including the possibility of court-martial. Do you understand?’ He gazed directly at her.
‘Yes, sir.’ Clare swallowed.
‘Very well then. I want you to tell the board, in your own words, everything that happened to you, and everything that you saw, from the morning of December nineteenth, the day of the alleged attack on you by Captain Shaffer. Take your time and don’t omit anything.’ He sat back.
Clare took a moment to gather her thoughts, and began to speak.
It took a lot longer to tell them everything than she thought it would. For the most part, they listened, with an occasional question. They spent the most time going over Shaffer’s actions, her last encounter with Donaldson, and what had happened in the Frigate after she escaped.
Finally, after over two hours of listening and questions, the captain consulted his notes and summed up.
‘So, Lieutenant Foster, to recap, are you of the opinion that Colonel Donaldson stayed aboard to hold the
Langley
steady, to allow you and the rest of his crew to escape, knowing full well that his actions would lead to the loss of his own life?’
‘Yes, sir, I am.’
‘And this – final incident in the Frigate, with the injured Captain Shaffer – you are convinced that his behaviour, including his sustained attacks on you, was the result of your turning down his advances towards you earlier in your tour?’
‘Yes, sir, I am. He wouldn’t stop, and when I threatened to go to the captain about it, he sedated me and threw me in the garbage disposal unit. It was Colonel Donaldson that rescued me and allowed me to escape from the
Langley
.’
‘Have you anything further to add to your testimony?’
Clare paused a moment before replying.
‘I wish to say that in my opinion, the actions of Colonel Donaldson were in the finest traditions of the Corps, and we all owe him our lives.’
‘Thank you, Lieutenant Foster. You may leave.’
Clare stood and saluted, and turned to leave the room.
So that was how it all ends, she thought, as she made her way back to the temporary cabin she was sharing with Lorna Gray. She closed the door and shrugged out of the uniform jacket, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
She had thought carefully about what she was going to say, of course.
She hadn’t mentioned Coombes, or the drugs, or anything about Donaldson’s involvement. In her story, Shaffer jabbed her when she opened her cabin door to him, and she woke up in the garbage container.
If she had brought Donaldson into it, that would have been the end of his reputation. Everyone was calling him a hero; why should she seek to change that? He had come back for her; he had saved her from the horror of the garbage container and helped her escape. In her book, he had redeemed himself. Now he was gone, along with Shaffer, the
Langley
, and any other evidence that might contradict her story.
She couldn’t take any more revenge on Shaffer if she’d wanted to; he was dead, cut to pieces by the Frigate’s engine, his scream fading on the wind. It gave her some primitive, animal satisfaction that she had done it, that she had seen his look of terror as the hatch blew off, that she had heard his last scream as he had been torn from the doorway and sucked into the whirling blades of the engine.
Yeah.
But if she could trash his reputation and service record while she was at it, she thought, that would do just fine.
Which just left Coombes. Lieutenant Coombes, who had drugged her before having his way with her, made death threats to her in the hydroponics farm, and held her down in a chair so that Shaffer could jab her with a sedative.
She got up, changed back into her flight overalls, and walked confidently out of the cabin towards the galley, where she knew he would be waiting.
‘Impressive young officer,’ Colonel Weaver observed, looking along the table at the other members of the board. ‘We’ll need to check her story out as we hear testimony from the other witnesses, but if it’s true, it would explain a lot about some of the other incidents we’re aware of on the
Langley
, especially the accident in June.’
One of the officers to his right shifted uncomfortably in his chair. ‘Sir, with respect, there’s a shortage of evidence to support this story. All we have is the forensic report on the Frigate – the human remains in the engine, and Shaffer and Foster’s blood all over the cabin. She freely admits killing a superior officer – okay, she said it was in self-defence – but we should not rule out the possibility of charging her.’
The room was silent for a moment. Finally Weaver spoke.
‘We certainly need to consider that,’ he said slowly. ‘But you’re missing one important thing. You’ve all read by now the initial findings report into the accident in June. As you know, we held certain details back. Foster’s testimony – what Shaffer told her about the accident, how he changed the glideslope angle – it ties up exactly with what we found. Foster would have had no prior knowledge about that; it wasn’t in the report. I think she could be telling the truth – and if she is, Shaffer would have had reason enough to want to silence her, once she escaped.’
The officer persisted. ‘That doesn’t explain Donaldson’s actions. How did he know she was down there, when he went to rescue her? And why didn’t he take the opportunity to save himself?’
Weaver turned to look at him, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
‘What captain wouldn’t go through his ship to make sure everyone was away safely? And as for not saving himself, his command was about to be removed and his entire career put at risk by an investigation. I don’t know how I’d react, in his position.’
He shook his head and sat back. ‘No, to me, I think Lieutenant Foster’s evidence is compelling. If her story continues to check out – and nothing we’ve heard so far from the other officers contradicts it – she could be in line for a commendation.’ He glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘I think it’s time for a short recess before we continue.’
As they got up and stretched their legs, the
Wright’s
first officer came up to Weaver. ‘Sir, the interceptor squadrons are looking for promising young officers, for entry into their training programme. If we do end up commending Foster for her actions, you could put her name forward.’
‘Excellent idea.’ The captain beamed. ‘She embodies everything that we’re looking for in young officers. She’s a credit to the Corps.’
‘So, Coombes, do you want to know what I told them?’
Clare sat opposite him in a corner of the galley where they couldn’t easily be overheard. He nodded dumbly, and she saw with satisfaction that his eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles under them from loss of sleep.
‘Well, you can rest easy, because I didn’t mention you at all. And your buddy Shaffer, well I think he’s just going to be forgotten as a disgrace to the Corps.’
‘Th-thank you,’ he stammered gratefully, and for a hideous moment she thought he was going to kiss her hand, but he stopped himself in time. She regarded him with distaste.
‘Don’t think for one moment that I’ve done it to save your scrawny little neck. The only reason I'm not telling them anything is so that I have a hold on you.’ She leaned closer, and her eyes hardened. ‘You see, if I told them now, you’d go to jail for sure. But you’d be out after a few years, and free. This way, you’ll always be wondering when the hammer’s going to fall. And it’s going to fall, believe me, if you don’t do what I say.’
He looked up at her, his eyes fearful. ‘I’ll do anything – anything you want.’
‘Good. When you get back to Earth, you’re going to resign,’ she said softly. He looked at her in shock, then his eyes glazed as he realised she was deadly serious. ‘Oh yes. Because if you don’t resign from the Corps, I’ll spill the beans about your little operation here. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if some other people besides me choose to tell the investigation just what you’ve been up to, now that Shaffer’s gone. Unless maybe you’ve been trying to buy them off before they give their testimony? It must be costing you a fortune.’ She glanced round the galley, not looking at anything in particular.
‘It’s already cost me everything I have,’ he hissed. ‘How am I going to pay them off, if I’ve resigned? Where am I going to get the money from?’ His voice was becoming high-pitched, like a girl’s.
‘I don’t care.’ Her expression was blank, uninterested. ‘Just don’t let me find you in the Corps by the time I read the official accident report.’ She leaned closer and whispered in his hearing: ‘And if you ever come near me again, or if I hear that you’ve molested any other woman, I’ll come and find you. I’ll tie your legs apart and your hands behind your back, and I’ll cut your dick and balls off with a steak knife. It’ll take some sawing, but I’m sure I’ll manage it, and then I’ll push them into your mouth and leave you to die.’
She smiled sweetly and stood up to go. ‘Goodbye, Coombes.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
It was late evening in the skies over Venus.
Clare sat in the right-hand seat of the spaceplane, poised on the flight deck of the
Wright
. The setting Sun filled the eastern sky with its bloated, sinking orb, while the western horizon, in front of them now, darkened through spectacular colours to a deep midnight blue, barred with high clouds. The eruption had pumped enough dust and gas into the atmosphere to provide vivid sunsets for months to come.
It was the end of January, 2142, and her broken arm was healing well, and was out of its cast now. Her face was still sore where the broken cheekbone was mending, and the medical officer had told her that there would probably be a small scar there, but she didn’t mind. The way she looked at it, she had come out of it all pretty well.
They had given the news of the commendation to her this morning; the captain of the
Wright
had asked to see her before she went. An official commendation this early in her career was excellent. What had really fired her up, though, was the other news; she wasn’t going straight back to Earth, but on to Mars; she had been put forward for an assessment for the elite interceptor unit.
She had always dreamed of seeing the deserts, canyons, and alien sky of that distant planet, and now it was actually happening. If she passed the rigorous selection process, there would be the excitement of deep space interception, chasing down asteroids in the darkness beyond Mars. She grinned at the thought.
The first stars were coming out in the western sky. Ahead of her, the lines of deck lighting pointed the way into space.
‘Orbital One Six Three, launch window is open.’
‘One Six Three, roger. Ready to start engines.’ Her own voice sounded strange and different in her ears, and she puzzled over it for a few moments while she lowered her helmet faceplate and tightened her seat straps.
Of course. She was a pilot now, not a trainee.
Her mouth broke into a faint smile behind the faceplate.
‘What’s so funny?’ Lorna Gray looked across at her from the commander’s seat, one eyebrow raised.
‘Nothing,’ she smiled. ‘Just looking forward to the ride.’
‘You have to call me “sir” now, you know,’ Gray said gloatingly. Clare grinned back; Gray’s promotion to captain had come through the day before.
‘Would you like to handle the launch, lieutenant?’
‘Thank you
sir
, I would.’ The tower had given them clearance for engine start, and Clare went through the startup sequence, feeling the rumble and moan of the four big engines igniting and spooling up in turn, until all four were running.
‘One Six Three, four good engines. On internal power, brakes on, ready for disconnect.’
The horizon around the ship had darkened in the last few minutes, and the deck of the
Wright
was like an island in the high clouds. A dull thump came through the spaceplane’s structure as the power cables detached.
‘One Six Three, you are disconnected, ready for release. Report when ready for takeoff.’
This was it; they were seconds away from launch. Gray called up the checklist and they stepped through it together. Clare watched the checklist items go green as they checked off each one. As the last item was completed, Gray looked across at her.
‘Takeoff checklist complete.’
‘One Six Three, ready for takeoff.’ Clare’s hand gripped the sidestick and she laid her left hand on the engine thrust levers.
‘One Six Three, beginning dive.’
For several seconds, nothing appeared to be happening, and then the carrier’s nose started to lower against the darkening sky. Clare brought the engines up to forty percent thrust. The spaceplane quivered.