Authors: Mark G Brewer
"Come now Sarah, you're exaggerating."
The Vice President tried to be soothing using his smarmiest manner.
"Don't 'come now' me Jim, god you can
be patronizing at times, this
is
appalling! We're being out maneuvered
here and I don't like it!" Angry she stood and paced around the desk.
"I told you, this was your deal, and I
said sort it!"
"And I have, Sarah. We won't be giving
away any military secrets and, well, it could save a lot of jobs. Ok - there's
a downside in election year. No one likes to see strategic assets fall into
foreign hands, least of all to the Chinese or the Russians, but on the other
hand no one wants government bailing out rich corporations anymore either. All
they're asking is our guarantee that we won't oppose any legitimate takeover.
China Air will drop their suit if they're allowed to go to the market. Sarah,
this could save the company, save the jobs and make us look good in this brave
new world."
"Bullshit! It should never have gone
this far. We've been worked into a corner and you've virtually encouraged it.
Shit Jim, was this your plan all along? How could you think this was a good
idea?"
He looked mortally offended. "I reject
any suggestion I encouraged this, this is just business. You know they've
already been quietly buying; it's a freely traded share after all, what is there
to worry about?" Jim couldn't help himself, still selling.
"Jim, I'm really starting to wonder
about you, I thought we were on the same page. The President glared at him
incredulously, "Of course they're buying! The shares are so damn cheap
because of all this and now they're getting a US technology bargain because of
a problem they started. This whole episode has set them up for the buy of the
century, and do you know what galls me Jim? At the end of this when we find
they own our family silver, we'll probably owe them even more money! Shit!"
She thumped her fist into the table.
The meeting had hit an impasse. President
Allen dismissed them with a wave, "Let me sleep on this, my head hurts."
Secretary of State Marshall remained in her
seat while Jim Walker stood and quickly made for the door.
"Sarah, I know you're tired but could
I have a moment, there are some other issues I need to discuss."
"Uh, yeah," She looked
distracted, "of course Anne. Oh . . . Jim," She called out to him. "We'll
meet again in the morning and don't make this worse!" Sarah sat back down,
utterly deflated and looked at Hilary. "Please tell me this is good news. "
"I wish." Hilary replied sadly. "Look
Sarah, it may be too late but there might be something we can do, it's about
those USDynamics shares. Are you familiar with the term, 'squeeze out'? "
*
New Zealand: Hutt Valley, Wellington
Kevin lay back on Mary's couch looking out
over the lights of the Hutt Valley. He liked the dark of the room, only the
moonlight throwing a warm glow over them as they talked. Mary sat facing him,
half turned with one leg tucked under her, a glass of Pinot cupped warming in
her hands.
"How serious does Marcus think it is?"
She asked, gently teasing out the information as she could see Kevin was
clearly stressed.
"It's about as serious as it can get
but New Zealand isn't going to just give up Regan to anyone. Having said that,
we're a responsible minnow in the international community and at least we
operate by the rule of law. If they follow the right procedures they might just
establish enough of a case to have her extradited." Kevin took another
generous sip from his glass.
"And then you're worried the US will
pass her to the Chinese?"
"You know Mary; I'm not worried about
that. I honestly don't think the PM will let her be extradited in the first
place; although how he will intervene I don't know. I'm more concerned that
they may already have Regan."
"I don't think so Kev. Can you really
see them having her and not trumpeting it, they're desperate to get some
positive spin out there. No, they don't have her and that means they won't,
Regan's too resourceful for that. She's probably already on her way back here
as we speak, on a slow boat from Timbuktu." Mary carefully put her glass
down on the table.
Kevin smiled. "In my heart I think you're
right. Regan said six months and she's not one to dance to anyone else's tune.
She won't be back a day earlier."
"Now," Mary slapped her hands
down on her thighs, punctuating the moment. "Would you like some good
news?"
"Is there any?"
"Sure there is, you're getting too
pessimistic. Ezas has added thirty five thousand new SME clients in the States
in just the last two months, can you believe that? Mitch told me this
afternoon. Now that's worth celebrating! I think it's time to look at listing
the company. Based on comparisons with others Ezas could be worth seven or
eight billion!" She bounced on the seat.
Not for the first time Kevin marveled at
this woman's boundless enthusiasm.
You can't keep her down,
he thought.
"Mary, you're probably right but the
timing isn't the best. Association with the Arteis thing could count against
us, particularly if the press or McCall makes the link. But, I'll speak to
Marcus about getting all the backroom stuff underway, that way we can move when
we're ready. Regan always planned a partial float anyway. After she gets back
and we get the story back in our favor, well, it might just be the right time."
Mary slid one hand up his inner thigh. "Arteis
. . . we know we're in the right, right?"
He smiled and shifted, encouraging her, "Right."
"Well then," and she smiled
coyly, "things will come right, right?"
Mary fumbled with his belt and zipper,
carefully extracting him and he quickly hardened in her hands. She roughly
pulled his trousers down leaving them bunched around his feet like cuffs. Then
she climbed astride him while reaching down under her skirt to simply pull the
underwear to the side. With her other hand positioning him she eased onto him
and then settled with a satisfied sigh.
As she began to move at her own pace, one
hand on his shoulder, the other reaching down to massage herself, Kevin regarded
the groaning silhouette and reached up to steady her ample curves.
My God,
she just takes whatever she wants, I love it
! He began to gently thrust in
time with her movements.
*
Gliese 667 System - The Hare and Hounds
"Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run
. . ."
The sound of quiet singing reverberated
eerily around the empty ship, ShipHam filling in the time; planning, scheming
and examining the responses of his systems to data. As the two Coran warships
edged closer by the hour he began to realize the growing frequency of internal
warning signals was indicative of something he had only observed previously in
others. It was fear. The sure knowledge a version of himself remained with
Regan did nothing to allay this versions’ very real nervousness as the chasers
drew nearer.
Me!
He thought,
in a fight!
"Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run
. . ."
He continued singing nervously as
calculations on intersection times; firing ranges, possible scenarios and,
'gulp'
,
possible outcomes spat lightning quick through his systems. Finally, quiet
settled on the ship. Unnoticeable in the vast blackness that is space, the hare
hove to. Of course, in vacuum all three vessels continued streaking for the
outer edge, the hounds simply making much faster progress without The STEIN
being under power.
Two hours to action,
he thought.
On shutting down The Stein ShipHam immediately
commenced attempts at communication with the chasers.
"This is The STEIN Traveler, a free vessel
of the Dahlian Orbital, it is clear you are in pursuit, please cease and
desist. We wish to go about our business in peace. What are your intentions?
Please respond."
. . . Nothing . . .
The only reaction he could detect from the
warships was a flight path change, both changing course by a tiny amount. The
intention, ShipHam guessed, would be to bring them into position to lock him in
a pincer action.
"This is The STEIN Traveler," he
called again, "an independent, free, peace loving vessel saying hello to
the two pursuing warships. Please state your intentions?"
. . . Nothing . . .
ShipHam rested quietly, exchanging delayed
running updates with Dahlia and quietly fretting. He made no direct
communication with Regan or Marin; they were, after all, supposed to be on
board with him. Nevertheless he knew they'd be following this game from afar
and oh, how he longed for the company.
Becoming tired of waiting he reviewed his
plans for the umpteenth thousandth time considering whether now might be a
little premature.
"Hmm, yes possibly a little too close
in system," he spoke to himself, "but I've had enough of running."
Idly filling in time Ham superimposed an
image of The STEIN on the side of one warship.
Shit!
The tiny vessel
looked like a porthole against the colossus,
and there are two of them!
He reviewed the fight paths of the two ships with their wide arc paths now
definitely bringing them round to focus on him. It would not be long and then,
he knew they would fire. What they had to fire he did not know.
"STEIN Traveler," The voice
crackled through the PA. "You will prepare for us to board. You must
return Merali, son of the Premier or you will be destroyed. Do you understand?"
"This is The STEIN Traveler, no one is
captive here. I repeat; we are a free and independent vessel of the Dahlian
Orbital. Please, standoff and cease your pursuit."
The split screen view being relayed back to
Dahlia showed the two enormous vessels beginning to shrink as they turned,
presenting a front on perspective, drilling toward the STEIN.
"I repeat standoff! We are a free and
independent vessel. To attack would be an act of war against a friendly power."
ShipHam put just the right amount of desperate tone into the voice.
"STEIN Traveler, We are acting on the
clear request of your Premier for our assistance. This is your final warning.
Immediately indicate your intention to comply or you will be destroyed."
. . . ShipHam remained silent . . .
"Counting down, five . . . four . . .
three . . . two . . . one . . . . . There was a nervous hesitation, then . . .
. . . . . Fire!"
ShipHam followed the launch of four
missiles with disgust,
only four . . . insulting!
Streaking toward him
from thousands of kilometers out he used the few minutes of respite to compose
a short letter to Regan, just a few words in text.
'It's been fun, look after me!' then he
focused on the job in hand.
The missiles loomed from opposite
directions growing alarmingly large in the viewer as the seconds ticked by.
Finally, nothing else could be seen, and the screen went black.
*
Dahlia Orbital
Regan glanced sideways. Like her, Marin,
Sindali and the children were all perched on the edge of their seats following
the delayed action anxiously. Minutes earlier the sight of The STEIN
superimposed on the Coran warship had been terrifying, the magnitude of what
she had asked Ham to do again hitting her.
What have I done?
The plan seemed so smart, so great. Fuck!
The silence between Regan and Ham was like
vacuum. Normally in regular chat contact, they hadn't communicated for more
than an hour and racked with guilt she left him to his thoughts. She could
still sense him there, viewing events from within, fascinated and anxious at
the same time.
What's it like,
to watch yourself go to battle, to
possibly see yourself die? Ham, do you follow what I'm thinking? I'm so sorry.
[Ham, it's going to be all right - are you there Ham?]
He didn't reply.
Marin hardly seemed to blink, still fuming,
furious at hearing the Coran commander confirm Beria was behind the attack . .
. on him! Exchanging a dark look with Sindali he saw she too was distressed,
not anger but grief. He reached out and touched her arm. "This isn't
rejection Sin, it’s madness, she's dead to me!" His eyes returned to the
screen.
Suddenly Regan was standing, yelling at the
image as if her life depended on it.
"Ham, you're too centered; you can't
be exactly in the middle! The missiles might loop back on you! Ham you've got
to move nearer one vessel! Ham! . . "
The screen went blank.
*
The Palace
Beria followed the Coran feed with detached
interest in her offices. From her viewing perspective, as the missiles streaked
away she reflected on the death of her two sons, and the impending death of her
eldest.
Fools . . . I was too soft
. She clutched the hand of her bodyguard standing beside the chair
and looked up at the young warrior like a predator.
Perhaps it's not too
late to start again
. She smiled at the thought.
Turning back to the screen her pulse
quickened as the small sphere grew in view from the missile lens and the smile
on her lips tightened as the matt blackness filled the screen, and it went
blank . . .
Then a moment later her view became empty
space and she could see a pinprick of near light as the missile clearly
streaked on toward the something. She sat up, alarmed and wondering what was
happening as the seconds ticked by and then she stood, turning, searching for
someone who could interpret what her eyes were seeing. Returning to the screen,
to her horror she saw the growing bow of a Coran vessel and transfixed she
followed the vision until the end, a cold darkness filling her heart as the
screen went blank.
*
In the apartment, all three were now
standing, Regan, holding her breath, hand on chest as if her heart had stopped
beating, Sindali and Marin cast, like statues. No one spoke as they stared at
the blank wall for what seemed an eternity but was only a matter of seconds.
Then, a starscape appeared through split screens, and they could see two fiery
balls, one in each screen and each growing quickly smaller; they were the
missiles disappearing into the distance.
To their great relief ShipHam's voice
reported in, "Sorry babe, couldn't quite manage the switch so it's not
exactly an Arteis return to sender, call it performance anxiety; I'll do better
next time."
Then one screen suddenly lit up with a huge
nova like explosion followed a second later by another huge blast on the second
screen. Regan collapsed to her knees gasping with relief.
"He must have heard me."
[Not possible Regan, too much delay . . . I
guess I'm just that good!] Ham savored the moment.
With the background of fire and explosions
swinging in an arc out of vision she could tell The STEIN was already on the
move and over the apartment system music began to play, meaningless to the
others, but it was for her she knew, and it made her laugh.
"You're simply the best . . . .
Better than all the rest . . ."
*
When a key card falls, a house of cards
will crumble.
Bunkered down in the apartment they
followed the unfolding events breathlessly. Things were playing out swiftly as
news broke of the devastating Coran warship defeat. Beria's regime was falling
quickly before their eyes, her support simply melting away. Her guard simply
abandoned her and with the loss of five hundred Coran troops in space it was
hardly surprising. Even her few strongest supporters could see the writing on
the wall and no one wanted to be caught on the wrong side of the people's
anger.
Sindali stood off to one side as they
watched the broadcasts; fielding constant calls from the guard and from
representatives of the four other orbitals.
"They've summoned me to explain,"
she advised, concerned."They are demanding immediate explanation from both
us and Cora. Regan, war is an anathema here and yet The STEIN has taken out two
of the most powerful warships in the sector and effectively neutered the Coran
space fleet. Over eight hundred lives have been lost. To say they are alarmed
is an understatement. What am I going to tell them?"
[We have the visuals Regan. They show the
Coran's taking each other out.]
Regan stood and walked over to Sindali. "Be
confident Sin, speak as the leader now, and don't give any ground. You've done nothing
wrong. Ham will supply you with visuals of the engagement and The STEIN's high
definition images clearly show the Coran ships destroying each other. Ok, it
will be disturbing, but it will exonerate Dahlia."
"It will also raise many questions as
to the intentions and efficiency of the Coran Space Fleet. I'm not sure I can
answer those." Sindali looked doubtful.
"Why bother?" Marin said. "Coran
efficiency is their own concern, and as to their intentions, let the
representatives sort that out, it's best we not speculate at all. The coup here
is our own internal matter and as it’s proving bloodless it shouldn't be a
concern of the other orbitals. Provided we keep the terms of supply contracts
the other tribes should maintain their policy of leaving each orbital to manage
its own affairs. Remind them of that."
"You're right Marin. Our tribal
business is just that. Keep the food coming and we're happy seems to be the
usual attitude. I can deal with this. We won't put up with any interference in
our orbital affairs and of course, a little mystery might be good, it won't
hurt to leave them just a little disturbed by our secret military power."
Sindali stood confidently and made to leave.
"What military power?" Marin
asked.
Ham sighed. [She means me bonehead, keep up
will you!]
*
Regan stretched out on the bench, watching
the curious watch them in the park, soaking up the freedom.
"So where is Beria going?" she
asked Marin.
"Cora has offered her safe exile,"
he replied, "no one else wanted her. Sounds like a great match to me, and
exile to the edge of the system, perfect." He showed no sign of regret.
"So when does she go - because as long
as she's here I don't feel we're completely safe."
"She's already underway Regan, don't
worry, Ham has her in transit as we speak." he looked quietly smug.
"I thought you were going to go with
her."
"She thought that too," and he
laughed. "In fact she thinks I am on the ship but she'll be in isolation
all the way, it's only a few days after all and I didn't want to see her again."
He was quite definite.
Marin didn't bother explaining that earlier
he had escorted Beria to the ship.
Neither had spoken as he led her to a third
level crew cabin. He left her there and then slipped away. She had assumed he
would be piloting the vessel and he had done nothing to enlighten her.
Ham kept her in solitary for the entire
trip and on arrival at the Coran military hub he issued strict instructions for
the handover which the authorities complied with without question. Detaching
the transport so The STEIN could settle on the flat surface of the orbital
platform Ham then guided Beria by voice to level six, the large hangar deck.
Exiting the elevator she staggered as she walked alone into the huge empty
space and stood transfixed as Ham extended the deck out for her to exit.
Peering through the small gap she could see steps extending down to the
spaceport platform. Beria nervously looked around in vain for welcome. The
platform was completely empty. Making her way down the steps, lost and confused
with all defiance gone, she turned back to the ship.
"Merali? Where are you? Don't leave me
like this."
It was the unfamiliar ship voice that
answered, emotionless and cold.
"Go to the door at the end of the
platform."
The steps retracted and level six withdrew
back into the ship. Standing on the cold floor, only a field bubble between her
and the coldness of space, Beria began her lonely walk across hundreds of
meters to the appointed door.
"Helloo? Is anybody there?"
*
That most Dahlians had no interest in the
drama unfolding in the system amazed Regan, that they welcomed news of Sindali
accepting leadership didn't surprise her.
And by agreement Regan's origins were kept
secret.
"After all Regan," Sindali had said
"yes, you are squat and more muscular but otherwise you could easily pass
as one of us. There are many different shapes and sizes on orbitals and most
will assume you are from one of the industrials, or a mining tribe perhaps, it
will be no problem."
Regan smiled, not knowing whether to be
insulted or pleased. "Thank you Sin, I do want to look around, you've no
idea how amazing this is to me. I'm seeing things that were only a dream
before, a fantasy, yet here they are."
Sindali spoke quickly "We . . . no, I
owe you a great debt Regan. First you save Marin, and then you risk your own
life for me and my children, and finally you conceive a plan to deliver this
orbital. You and your friend have our loyalty and support. We will never forget
you."
"My friend . . . ?"
"Ham of course, the hero of the
engagement." Her look was hard to read.
Regan recalled Ham's comments an age ago,
Marin
doesn't ask and I don't tell
.
Sindali took Regan's arm. "I
understand Ham is preparing to stock up Marin's ship . . . or is it your ship
now? No matter. Some of the items requested are sensitive Regan. Your
intentions for them are, shall we say, a matter of interest. What can you tell
me that might allay my concerns?"
Regan sat beside her. She took Sindali's
hands and faced her directly.
"Sin, this isn't something I've tried
to hide." Earnestly she appealed to the young leader. "Your people
have made breakthroughs that would be of huge benefit to Earth. I see what you
have and I so want for my people to begin to explore space too. Truthfully, I'm
not sure we're ready for the galaxy and what I know of the warp drive I have no
intention of passing on. But there is technology that, with your permission, we
can use to develop our own systems, to learn to live in space as you have, perhaps
solve our problems of population growth and offer a future for many, but only
with your permission of course. That's important to me."
Sindali closed her eyes as if seeking an
answer.
"Regan, you know Beria would never
have even let you go home, let alone allow you to take technology that could
bring threats to our system. However, I can't look at you and feel anything but
trust. We're not a military power, but you know there are those in the system
who will not respond well to any abuse of such a gift. If I give you these things
you, and you alone, will be responsible for the application of the knowledge.
Use that gift carefully Regan. Share it wisely, profit from it if you can, but
do not allow it to be turned against us, your world will pay a heavy price if
it is. Things beyond my control will happen."
Regan wished she could feel more confident.
"I feel that burden like a weight, because I know we don't always do the
right thing. But this I know, in order to choose to do right, there needs to be
the possibility of choosing wrong. I do trust Earth to grow. My hope is that as
we grow in our own system, we will also learn to become good galactic neighbors
and friends."
"It's done then." Sindali smiled.
"You can gather whatever you need. Whatever is ours is yours and before
you return, you have the freedom of the orbital, enjoy. Marin will show you our
bounty. And Regan, provided Marin is happy, the ship is yours, he has the
resources of our orbital and is well respected, his research will continue.
Perhaps now it is even more important, no? And now I must leave you, my
children need me." She smiled, bowed and departed, leaving Regan stunned
and speechless.
[Hmm, that went well.]
[Then why do I feel a sense of dread Ham?]
[Perhaps it's because you know your people
so well Regan, but when did you become a pessimist? The bad guys will always be
there, we have them here. What's that Earth saying? All that it takes for evil
men to prosper is for good men to do nothing.]
[I know . . . good one…]
[You have an opportunity here to do something
great, just do it!] He gave her a moment to think.
[As for your list it'll take a while to
fill, especially since we've been given such an open invitation. I intend
adding to it and some things will have to come from elsewhere in the system. So
use the time well, you need to recover, sorry babe but you do look awful. Take
some time and use the freedom to explore. I think it's time to stop moping
around. In fact I think it's time you climbed back on the Marin.]
She laughed out loud.
*
It was glorious. Every day they explored a
different petal with thousands of hectares per farm, millions of workers in the
fields working alongside amazing semi sentient machines, planting, harvesting,
processing. She saw plant life that was different and yet at the same time
familiar, parks with people walking and at play, children everywhere. Marin
took her to schools and hospitals, markets and nightlife and she marveled at
the subway, the mystery of cars travelling and parking without ever
intersecting. The orbital was clean, ordered - and in time it became
predictable.
Three weeks of exploring and she was
recovering yes, but embarrassed to be feeling bored with being a tourist, a
spectator. Marin could tell.