Regan's Reach (11 page)

Urgent diplomatic approaches had been made
quickly to their 'old friends' the Americans. In their opinion unfortunate
mistakes had occurred and they had been unfairly targeted. Compared to the
simple errors of their corporations they argued the US response had been criminally
disproportionate.

Privately the US Government was pleased at
the setback for their rivals. No one likes being under the thumb of another
power and senior people at the Pentagon were quietly toasting Regan Stein for
giving the Chinese a bloody nose. However, diplomacy and a mountain of debt
called for a different approach. Perhaps a compromise could be negotiated?

The Chinese maintained STEIN was dangerous
- to all businesses and governments. This type of technological strength in the
hands of uncontrolled private operators was dangerous to everyone. In an age
where technology was so important to the infrastructure of governments, surely,
for the good of all people no private company should be allowed to establish
power and superiority . . . Don't our good friends the US Government agree?

And now, Ham explained, for payment
holidays and interest rate concessions, in just a few days, Arteis USA would be
shut down quietly and any technology would be grabbed for the public good.
Licensing fees to STEIN would be stopped and contracts cancelled.
Recommendations that other governments should reject the technology would be
made and diplomatic pressure would be put on the NZ Government to curb STEIN's
activities.

As far as the backroom powerbrokers of the US
Government were concerned, STEIN had served a useful purpose. They now had a
significantly better financial arrangement with their Chinese bankers and their
rivals’ progress had been set back hugely, possibly by years. Frankly it was
hard to see a downside. USDynamics would recover in time and Arteis was, after
all, only a small investment lost.

All in all, a good days work!

LIKE FUCK!
Thought
Regan, fuming with an anger that would melt metal!

"Are we ready to talk?" Ham
tentatively asked.

"Talk? I want somebody's balls in a
vice!" She was stalking now, an angry cat on the prowl.

"May I make some suggestions?"

"If it involves ruination for those
weasels I'll take anything at the moment." Regan slumped back in her
chair, fists clenched, plans for dire retribution circulating through her head.

Calmly Ham continued. "Regan, we're
not out of the system yet. Now we're not going back, but we can communicate
with a small delay via our relay probe that stays in orbit. It masquerades as
an old satellite and we've used it for decades. If you want we can squirt a
message back to your team and prepare them. They're very good Regan. They'll
take what actions they see as best to progress things until you return. Who
knows what you may come back with? Those 'bastards' may yet find they have
crossed the wrong woman."

Regan went quiet, her usual steely calm
beginning to return and she took on that look she knew made people feel
uncomfortable.

"Ham . . . you're a voice of sanity. I
want you to send them everything you prepared for me, including the visuals!
And there needs to be a message from me too. Let me think for a moment, there
are a few things I need to say."

*

The War Room STEIN Riverside

Regan's familiar face had held them
captivated for the last thirty minutes and considering the subject matter she
was scarily calm.

". . . So that's it. I can't tell you
yet how I got the information but I will. I hope I've come across rationally
but you all know me and yes, I was apoplectic when I discovered what the
bastards were planning. That said, this is the scummy side of politics and we've
always taken the approach that governments throw up barriers, we just get on
with the business. Nothing's changed and we need to find ways to thrive despite
them." Regan scanned the room from the screen as if she were taking them
all in.

"I will still be back as planned in
six months and as far as I'm concerned we press on with our plans. I'm going to
make some suggestions on how to deal with this but you're not bound to carry
them out. You'll be in the best position to decide over the next few weeks as
the scum buckets show their hands. I'll back you in whatever steps you judge
are most appropriate. Here's what I'd like to happen." Regan consulted
notes on her desk then looked back up.

"Kev, you and Marcus should challenge
the US Government over this decision but keep it behind closed doors. See if
you can come out of this with something that pays off for us while helping them
save face. They don't deserve the soft treatment but we need to maximize the
return. I reckon you let them know we won't make any waves provided they pay us
significant compensation. Two hundred million dollars minimum! Save it until
you know how they're responding but don't be afraid to point out that without
our agreement, if they continue to use Arteis illegally, they effectively
become the equivalent of a threat. Arteis will treat them as such without our
support.

I'm not worried about the intellectual
property. They won't be able to crack our codes and they won't be able to use
anything without the keys. As far as I'm concerned they've rolled over for the
Chinese and they don't realize how vulnerable this leaves them. Well, that's
their problem.

Mary, I know you'll be thinking about this
already but just to be clear, get all our US funds into other international
accounts before this shit hits the fan. I don't want to give them any more
leverage over us than they already have.

Our marketing guys need to spin this as an
opportunity. Be careful how they communicate it but this whole episode shows
clearly how effective Arteis really is and we need to sell it as such. The
Chinese are running scared so what better recommendation do we need? I'm sure
the French and Germans won't be intimidated into dropping us but we may lose
the Australians and the Brits. We need to push the strength of Arteis to every
independent country, other than those we know are terrorist hell holes.

And Kev, we need the Prime Minister on
board. He's a good guy. We can be up front with him and it’s best we get to him
first. Don't wait. Show him this stuff, but don't let him copy it. We at least
need the backing of our own government so use your best persuasive skills bro.
We're loyal; we're good employers and bring in good business to this country so
I hope they'll stand by us.

I'd also like someone to contact Hayden
Joyce. I've no idea how USDynamics will be affected by this but it's not our
fault, hell our product works. They're caught up in this too and they deserve
to know what's happening so that they can plan their own damage control. I just
hope they will still want to work with us.

Steph, Kutch - for you nothing has changed.
In fact our little project could be even more important so press on full steam
ahead. There will be no problem with funding and Marcus is working on a few
things for me that I have a feeling will pay off handsomely.

Lastly Mitch, Ezas will probably escape all
of this but we need to create some spin. We need to create separation of your
division from Arteis and protect your business in the USA. I'm not sure how to
go about doing that so consult with Kev, Mary and Marcus.

Guys, I know you'll be in the war room so
think about it, this is only one battle and it doesn't mean we've lost a war! I'll
be back as soon as I can and I'm hoping to bring some cavalry solutions with
me. Until then, take care."

Kev killed the screen and looked around the
room. Only a few days ago they had been celebrating in this very room. Now they
sat silently, subdued.

Kutch spoke first, "Those cowardly bastards
- how could they?" He stood and walked to the window.

"Where is Regan," Mary asked, "and
how did she get that to us?" She looked confused. "Steph, did she say
anything to you?"

"Nothing," Stephanie replied, "last
time I saw her it was the morning after our celebration, with Kutch. She was
excited about the ADF but I could tell she was on the edge. She needed a break,
mentally more than anything, and now this happens."

"Well, I'm bloody angry!" Marcus
broke in, "On the legal side rest assured, subject to your agreement Kev,
I'm going to get blood from these crooks. They won't get away from this one
without scars."

Kevin stood and stretched, cracking his
knuckles in front. "Guys, let's get down to business. We can't waste any
time and we need a plan. No one leaves here today until we're all sure of our
roles and the steps we need to take over the next few weeks. I want an action
plan to win a war. We will get through this on top and we won't need the
cavalry!"

Everyone settled into their seats, grim
determination pervading the room. No one suggested coffee.

*

The Ship

Regan woke fresh and surprisingly happy. Sending
a personal message to the team had been strangely liberating. What more could
she have done? Three days had passed and she wondered what their reaction had
been. It wasn't like Regan to stand on the sidelines and she missed being there
now. Having said that, it surprised her how quickly after squirting the message
she felt the problem lift from her shoulders. She hated to admit it but it did
feel good to have warned them and then flown away.

Damn! I must be tired,
she thought.

After dressing she immediately headed for
the large storage area on level five for her first run. With only the padded
feet of her one piece for protection it was uncomfortable and she made a mental
note to talk to Ham about shoes. Laps of the small circumference soon became
monotonous and after forty she gave up.
Only about five kilometers but it'll
have to do or I'll go crazy.

Back in the room Regan showered and headed
for the mess. Having walked the ship several times now she already felt
comfortable finding her way, certainly in all but the lowest levels. It was
like settling in at camp, establishing territory as her own, and it was
starting to feel good.

Other than a brief "Good morning"
she hadn't spoken to Ham since waking. Now, munching on mashed roughage and
sipping at her water, Regan launched as usual straight into conversation - Ham
was always there.

"Is it possible to make coffee here
Ham, I'm dying for coffee!" Stretching back against the table she looked
up as she spoke. It was becoming a habit, as if an invisible man was there.

"A bit melodramatic don't you think?
Have you ever considered that anything you want that bad might not be good for
you?" Despite the lecturing tone she could tell he was considering it and
stayed mum. "Anything is possible." Ham continued, "I might be
able to synthesize something, what it will taste like I can't say."

She quickly encouraged him. "Hey, it
might be fun, trial and error and all that. I can be your test subject."
She stood and started to clean up.

"Ham, I was running this morning and
remembered you were going to say something about Marin. What was it?"

"You haven't noticed the smell?"
He sounded surprised.

"Smell?" She sniffed the air.

"Not here, the smell in the Medlab,
its Propionic and Butyric acid."

"You've lost me, I'm no chemist and I
haven't noticed anything unusual."

"The air conditioning probably
disguises it but trust me it's there."

"So . . . acids, is something leaking,
dissolving, what?"

"Regan, the smell is body odor. Marin
produces it, so do you. Look, normally there would be crew here, a medical
officer for example, someone else who would take care of everything, moving
sick or injured crew members, lifting, that sort of thing."

"So getting to the point, he needs
washing, that's what you're telling me?"

"It's been nine days since he
showered. The suit absorbed waste while he was wearing it but even the suit isn't
intended to clean, or for long term use. He badly needs a wash, and he needs
it regularly."

"Is that all? You had me worried. I'm
OK with that. And now that you mention it I did notice, I just thought it was,
you know, 'alien', I mean, how would I know how he's supposed to smell? I'll
make it part of my routine. Let's face it; it's not as if I'm flat out with
work. Just tell me where I can find cloths or a sponge down there, and come to
think of it, even I'd like to have a towel."

"Everything is in the Medlab."

"I planned to check on Marin anyway."
she said and set off, looking forward to doing something useful. Water and soap
were available and there would be basins there she was sure.

Entering the Medlab she could see that on a
side bench small pieces of absorbent cloth along with larger sheets of the same
material were already there. Once again she could see no indication of how they
arrived; it was another mystery. She picked up a piece of cloth and rubbed it
between her fingers. Perfect. Gathering a few of the cloths and a large sheet
she walked to the gurney and stood over Marin's form considering what needed to
be done.

"Will the tubes be OK?" she asked,
sounding doubtful as she touched Marin's forehead and noted his steady
breathing.

"They should be fine," Ham
replied, "The feeder is the one to be careful about. It's effectively free
to move and could irritate but you can't really do any damage. The two stomach
tubes are waste. They're glued and sealed. They shouldn't break free, even if you
roll him."

She nodded and considered how to approach the
task. First she pulled up a trolley to use as a side table and settled it next
to the gurney. Taking some of the cloths she then selected a medium sized basin
from a compartment under the bench and entered the bathroom to half fill it
with warm water. As the basin filled Regan soaped up several of the cloths,
resting them on the rim. Then, after washing her own hands in the sink, she
carried the basin and cloths to the trolley.

Taking one of the large sheets she rolled
Marin carefully on to his side and positioned it so that it would soak up any
drips. Then she took a cloth, squeezed out most of the soapy water and began at
Marin's shoulders, gently wiping him down and regularly returning to the bowl
to rinse out the cloth. In this way she worked her way down his back and then
began again at his feet working her way back up. Taking a fresh cloth she then
washed his buttocks, carefully cleaning. With one hand she prised them apart
and wiped him as if he were a baby.

Pleased with how calm she felt Regan
settled into the task and it surprised her how satisfying the experience was.
It felt good to be doing something for someone else. Having thoroughly washed
his back, she then rolled Marin so she could wash the front and the side she
had been unable to reach. Arranging the towel under him was a struggle and she
could tell there was a knack to this she needed to learn. Once she had him
comfortable she stepped back and considered the next step. First she changed
the water and prepared fresh cloths. Then with a fresh warm cloth she began
softly bathing his head, being careful around the laceration which already
seemed to be healing well. The skin was glued together and she could tell the
scar, if there was one, would be so fine as to be invisible. She washed around
his eyes and face.
No beard, even after six days?
Following Ham's advice
she paid no particular attention to the waste tubes, quickly washing Marin's
chest and stomach before beginning again at his feet. She lingered there
massaging his soles and toes then working steadily up, washing and rinsing in a
rhythm now. Above the knee her eyes were drawn to his genitals. She tensed,
considering her approach. Taking the cloth she spread it over the palm of her
hand then used it to cover him as she worked it, cleaning as best she could.
She paused, then on an impulse soaped her hand and reached under the cloth
shyly hiding what she was about to do. She washed him briefly before removing
her hand and the cloth then rinsing the area. Lastly she dried him off and then
stood looking, first at his limp penis then up to his face. She reached out
nervously with her hand, letting it hover. Then extending her middle finger she
gently touched and drew it down the length of him . . . nothing. She should
have been relieved but instead a wave of sadness swept over her and for the
first time the thought occurred that Marin might not come out of this.

"Regan." Ham's voice broke her
melancholy and she realized she'd been standing silent for some time.

"That wasn't so bad Ham. I lost it for
a moment there." she said sadly. "It occurred to me that he might not
come around, do you think that's likely?"

"These are early days Regan and don't
forget, I have him sedated at the moment anyway. We can try slowly bringing him
around in the next few days, who knows?"

Regan blushed.
He's still sedated!
Of
course he is! I knew that.

"You know Ham, honestly, it was a
privilege. I'll come down each day. Tell me, do you have any oil I could use
that won't harm the body? It would be good to massage his arms and legs and
keep them moving. This can't be good for him just lying there." She put
her hand under one knee and lifted the leg, considering how physiotherapy might
help stretch and work his muscles.

"Check the lockers under the bench.
There should be everything in that room a medic would need."

She explored the shelves. Nothing made
sense to her but by trial and error she found a silky, oily substance that
seemed perfect. She worked some onto her forearm and on to Marin's calf as a
test. She could check it again tomorrow.

What now? Since the first day onboard the
ship it had been troubling Regan that she'd been unable to go below level six.
She was curious now and had free time so having finished with Marin she went
straight to the lift and directed it downward. Taking one level at a time to
confirm her position she knew when the doors opened at level six there had to
be two more below. No point in sneaking around she thought, Ham's everywhere after
all, so she simply asked.

"Why couldn't I get to the levels
below here Ham?"

"You can go anywhere. I stopped you
earlier because your vital signs indicated you needed rest. You're it Regan,
Marin's only hope. I couldn't have you collapsing down there or pushing a
button you shouldn't."

"Uh-Huh. Please don't do that again ok?
I know this is your ship and I am aware you're everywhere, but I'm hardly
likely to try and do anything improper and I'm no test rabbit to play with in a
maze."

"I'm suitably chastened!" He didn't
sound offended. "The levels are all open to you, including the craft on
level one. Any questions just ask."

Am I being too stroppy?
She worried . . . but not for long. Regan punched to go down. The
doors closed and a moment later opened to the familiar passage around the elevator
shaft. Walking around the shaft she could see that unlike the other floors
where the passage was square, here the elevator shaft became rectangular and
instead of doors there were four narrow corridors, one on each side, appearing
to extend about two thirds of the way to the hull. They were clearly access
ways to whatever machinery powered the ship. Looking down each she could see no
point in exploring. She was no fan of tunnels and there really was nothing to see,
only flat walls. As with every other room it was almost impossible to discern
where a panel or access door might be. Here though, the constant hum was
stronger, almost tangible. It conveyed a sense of tremendous power and stirred
a memory of a feeling she had had visiting an engine room of an old Inter
Island Ferry at home with huge diesel motors throbbing away. But it was
different here, contained, controlled and yet more potent. A thought came to
her, strange but nevertheless perfect, that here she was surrounded by muscle, engineering
muscle of strength she had never encountered before. It made her shiver.

It took only a few steps and she was back
to the elevator entrance. Regan stood there a moment soaking up the feeling of
raw potential, before entering and tapping for the last level. Nothing changed
inside the elevator but something did in her insides, she felt it.

The doors opened but with the odd feeling she
hesitated. "What happened then Ham? Something happened, in the elevator."

"You're now in the Transport, so
called because it will carry the most people. It's effectively at the bottom of
the ship so the elevator capsule spins to bring you the right way up."

"So I'm now standing upside down to
the rest of the ship?"

"Upside down to the ship but right
side up for the Transport, yes."

Don't think about it!
The doors opened and she stepped out into an area similar to the
control room but with eight seats more closely together. There were four in a
row at the front, each with swiveling consoles and generous space between. On
either side in a second row were two pairs of seats. All faced the large front
wall; it was blank at the moment but she knew how large and clear that screen
could be. Regan began a circuit of the level finding bathroom, galley, meeting
room and two small bunkrooms. She returned to the control area and sat down.

"Is it possible to see what this thing
looks like Ham, from the outside I mean?"

The screen lit up. "Brace yourself. I
think you'll recognize it." he said it with a chuckle.

It was a recording. She could see a slice
of the sphere smoothly moving away toward the starscape. The view zoomed closer
and rotated. She could only laugh.

A flying saucer! Hilarious!

"So," Ham asked, "what do
you think?"

Regan sprawled back in the chair with a
look of sheer delight on her face. She shook her head in disbelief. "I
think this is the most exciting experience I'm ever going to have. I think I
simply can't believe it. How do I top this? I . . . want . . . some of these!
Seriously, what does Marin do with all this?"