Sanctuary (Jezebel's Ladder Book 3) (4 page)

At T plus 48, they flipped the
knife switch on a true Frankenstein creation, and the elevator raised their
only remaining antimissile battery into place. The marine sent her a
person-to-person link. “The two techs can handle this from here. At worst they’ll
have to manually reload. We’ll be more useful at the landing zone.
Cherub
just left L1. In just over four hours, they’ll be coming in hot. We have to
prepare the area for a crash landing. Their systems are overloaded; their med
supplies and air will be low. We can help escort the wounded to the clinic.”

She brought up a manifest for the
incoming shuttle. Her former assistant, Alistair, wasn’t on the list. “The other
refugees can do that,” she replied. “We need to decouple the pod, patch
Cherub
up, and send them back out as soon as possible. There’s another pod and a dozen
suits still floating at L1.”

As she rested in a padded, white
tube with a lunar surface view that would’ve been at home in a Kubrick movie,
Horvath sent communications out to assorted emergency crews. Shuttle
preparations couldn’t reasonably start until the hour before landing. “While we
wait, we’ll help clear the dead and the wounded from the cafeteria.”

The colonel interrupted over the
base network. He sent her an image of cranes and repair crews outside. “EVA
teams are still moving a portable dome over the site and bringing in flexible
tunnels. That will take at least another twenty minutes. Opening anything
before then would just kill the survivors. Some of them may have made it to the
kitchen, bathrooms, or even the janitor’s closet.”

“What do you suggest I do until
then?” she asked, afraid she’d fall apart the moment she stopped addressing life-and-death
emergencies.

“Tune in to
Seraph
in a
couple minutes and see what your friend from Yale has to say.” Yale was a pun
on the Swedish pronunciation for jail. Oleander had been the first woman to be
successful in learning the dangerous skill of Out-of-body travel, and she had
done so to gain early release from prison.

There were other former felons in
dangerous duties around moon base, so she suspected Colonel Francis was biased
against women on the frontier; though, he always found other reasons for his
objections.

“There were extenuating circumstances,”
Horvath insisted. “When Ole was in her late teens, she and her brother lost
their jobs in the mines. Her family was kicked out on the street, and the
shelter had no running water. Ole blew up the water main for the bank
skyscraper so the executives might have a little sympathy. I know she’d do
anything for family, and those people up there are her family now.”

The colonel wasn’t swayed. “Oleander
was a homeless woman sentenced to years in prison for terrorism when you
trained and freed her.”

“She hasn’t been back to Earth
since—no different than some of your delinquent recruits who opted for military
service when a judge gave them a choice.” Oleander had become a highly paid
consultant in the space construction and mining industries, exempt from
high-risk duty because of her rare skill set. Yet when Nena was trapped on a
crippled and leaking shuttle, Ole had volunteered for the rescue mission. “She
saved my life and that of my husband. The worst thing you can say about her
since her enlistment is that her bone density is a little low. If I have to
trust my kids to someone, Oleander is the next best thing to my being there.”

The colonel grumbled, “Someone
guilty of a mutiny that started a war shouldn’t be volunteering character
references.”

“Yes, sir.”

****

The ash-blonde Oleander appeared to
her brother, Johann, on the deck of the
Seraph.
As her closest relative
and friend, he was the only one who could see her disembodied form without page
enhancement. After fifteen minutes of intense discussion, she promised to
provide updates every hour.

The colonel broadcast a summary to
everyone in moon base and Brazil’s mission control. “As suspected, the artifact
is a spaceship so large that it has its own ecosystem. From what we have
witnessed so far, combinations of the alien pages have revolutionary
applications for medicine, engineering, and war—things we might not have
stumbled on for another century. The astronauts are currently awaiting
decontamination before they can enter the control room. Oleander can’t scout
ahead into the main ship because it’s mu shielded—which means it’s proof
against electromagnetic interference as well as Out-of-body intrusion. In about
three hours, our first scouts will be inside—Mercy Smith and the esteemed
representative from Mori Electronics both volunteered. Then all the astronauts
will pass through the membrane except Lieutenant Randall Beaks. After which,
they’ve promised to send out the flight recorder with all the data they’ve gathered
so far, including detailed schematics.” He paused, deciding how to commemorate
the end of two decades of anticipation. “No matter what happens from here,
whether we agree with the
Ascension
crew’s methods or not, our species
has been changed forever.”

Amanda Mori, wife of the billionaire electronics magnate,
took her entourage of bodyguards and assistants to an obscure base in the
Antarctic to visit her daughter. It would be her first visit to the dome habitat
known as Ward 8. Her husband refused to go along to such a remote and
depressing place. He had a business to run. She only considered going because,
three days ago, Kaguya’s personal nurse had sent a photo of her patient
smiling. After a year of being a near vegetable, the change might signal an
improvement in the young woman’s condition. Amanda never left important
missions to others. If anyone could snap Kaguya out of this page-induced
isolation, it would be her mother.

The hardest part of the expedition
wasn’t deicing the vertical-takeoff craft or dodging assassins. No, for Amanda
it was deciding what to wear. Since her husband had joined the board of Fortune
Enterprises, there would be reporters at every airport along her route. She’d
alienated several photographers in the past. Since her role in the company had
shifted from bodyguard to ambassador, fashion was crucial. She started with
basic New York City tights to accentuate her still-firm legs. Deep snow
required knee-high boots. Cold meant layers: blouse, sweater down to her butt,
and a thick, quilted coat that went down to her boots. Throw in a few
accessories: a weighted scarf for blocking or choking an assailant, satellite
uplink earrings, and a lightweight Beretta with an extra clip of explosive
tips—perfect. She had her makeup and hair done on the plane ride to match the
outfit and look more motherly.

Looking out the window for hours,
she had only seen gray, choppy water and white haze. Only when they were close
to the base did she see the proliferation of plywood and corrugated-steel
Quonset huts. The Plexiglas, geodesic dome and tracking station reminded her of
the Louvre pyramid jutting out of Napoleon’s Paris—gauchely modern. The snow
was so bright that she had to wear her sunglasses. The Fortune Enterprises
stock price appeared in the upper left corner of her lenses. The price had
risen steadily since the test of the new prototype had commenced. Fortune
Aerospace had done it again. She might buy another vacation island to
celebrate.

Turning to her head guard, she
asked, “Anything I should look out for?”

Hansel didn’t need to read the
inside of his sunglasses to report; he was quite diligent for a Rex—a guard
with the Override talent. “The area over there is Chilean. Attackers have moved
weapons through Chilean companies in the past. The country isn’t actively
opposed to Fortune, but they haven’t signed the treaty.”

“Other than espionage, why would
anyone build here?”

“Even though the UN declared that
Antarctica belongs to everyone, Chile thinks the more people they have born in
the Antarctic, the better their claim is on any resources.”

“What resources could they possibly
have here? Snow? Penguin ranches?”

“Antarctic ice holds 90 percent of
the world’s fresh water, ma’am. They also store food here, frozen.”

“You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack, ma’am. They
have some steel components off shore, along with coal and platinum.”

“Do they sell jewelry?” she asked
as the corporate VTO shuttle landed on a well-manicured circle of ice that
could have been a rink.

Hans had to look up that
information on his glasses. “No stores, ma’am, but there’s a native handcrafter
we can visit if he’s not on duty with the sled dogs.”

She sniffed. “He’ll probably smell
like dogs. No. Keep the jet warmed up. I don’t expect this to take too long. If
it goes well, I might bring a few passengers: Kaguya and her nurse, that sort
of thing.”

Hans whispered into his sleeve as
the airport crew rolled out a staircase. “The pilot says we can easily swing
three people with light luggage or four without.”

Amanda harrumphed. She had not been
asking permission. She focused her displeasure on the ground crew. The stairs
were not heated or covered, and she had to walk fifty yards across open ice to
reach the entrance to the dome. The stock spiked to an all-time high as
attendants relieved her of her coat, so she kept the dark glasses on for the
constant updates. Too bad it hadn’t worked out between Kaguya and that nice
Zeiss boy commanding the mission. It would have been her daughter’s name
attached to the successful test flight of the new spacecraft. Ah well, it was
the same amount of money either way.

The head of the facility met Amanda
and escorted her to the invalid ward. People damaged by pages could sometimes
recover in this mental seclusion. The ever-present pastel blue and disinfectant
smells made her ill. When she entered her daughter’s private room, the odor of
cheap oatmeal filled the air. Amanda remembered eating the paste as a child and
vowing never to do so again. Yet, when the nurse touched Kaguya’s lips with the
spoon, the young woman opened for more.

“She’s eating on her own!” Amanda
said. But her daughter’s vacant gaze remained on the picture of the planets
drawn by Kepler.

Nurse Lisel smiled. “Not quite,
Frau
Mori. She’s like this for almost a week every time Conrad visits.”

“Conrad who?”

“
Herr
Professor
Doktor
Zeiss,” the nurse said, gesturing to a picture of the
L1 construction platform on the ceiling.

Amanda removed her scarf, holding
it in such a way that it could be used to strangle the woman if she gave the
wrong answer. “What was he doing to my daughter?”

Lisel laughed as she scooped
oatmeal from the side of Kaguya’s mouth. “Only talks, sometimes without words.”

“In a romantic way?”

“No. If anyone tries to touch her,
she responds violently, like many autistic children. He calms her and gives her
new problems. Miss Kaguya becomes very frustrated when she does not have
interesting problems. Although, anchor theory says that the only successful
Quantum talents have a loved one who anchors them to the physical world.
Without that, they drift into . . .” Too late, the nurse realized she was
pouring salt in the mother’s wounds.

Holding out the bowl and spoon, the
nurse asked, “Would you like to feed her? We have bananas mixed in today—her
favorite.”

Surprising even herself, Amanda
removed her gloves and scarf, taking over the nurse’s duty. “She couldn’t get
enough ‘nana when she was little.”

Kaguya leaned to her right, and the
first spoonful quickly leaked out the side of her mouth. The nurse whispered,
“You’re blocking her view of the poster.”

Amanda shifted, and they had a
pleasant dinner. Her daughter was clean and free of bed sores—about all one
could have hoped. “When did Commander Zeiss come last?”

“The day I took the picture for
you.”

“It must have been his last stop
before the spaceport. Do you think he still cares for Kaguya?”

“This visit, he accompanied his
wife to the clinic and decided to stop by. Don’t worry.
Frau
Zeiss is
not permitted on these premises because your daughter has an apoplectic fit
whenever she gets within eight meters.”

“Why the clinic
here
? Is
there something wrong with Mira?”

The nurse took the empty bowl from
her with a shrug. “She is healthy enough for space.”

As Amanda replaced her glasses, the
stock ticker showed a sudden, drastic dip in the stock price. A red indicator
flashed, causing her to tap her earring. “Report.”

Over the link, Hans told her, “The
anti-space-alliance forces have just declared war on Fortune Enterprises. As
soon as refueling is complete, I recommend we leave the site and head for
home.”

The rich woman snorted. “Please, we’ve
been at war with them for twenty years.”

“It’s different now. Mr. Mori
wanted you to know that
Tetra-1
landed on the artifact.”

Her first reaction was excitement
because she had an agent on that ship. Then she was even more thrilled because
war meant opportunity. Amanda established a priority link to her assistant on
the jet. “Sell our remaining Chinese, Malaysian, and Middle East assets as
quickly as possible, even at a loss. Use the proceeds to buy every share of
Fortune stock you can get your hands on over the next few days.” She found
notes on an operation plan called ‘Seven Seals,’ and forwarded the instructions
to her assistant in Tokyo.

She told the nurse, “Have Kaguya on
the plane before we leave. You will attend her.”

The nurse was shocked. “Madam, this
is so sudden. Not only do we have personal belongings to pack, but I am
required to clear changes in my schedule through this institution. Her doctor
will also need to approve.”

Glancing at her heads-up display,
Amanda said, “You have sixty-five minutes until we take off. If you are not on
board, we leave without you. You can always buy new clothes. Sedate Kaguya if
you must. I’ll inform the director, and he’ll give you clearance in a few
minutes.”

Amanda strode into the hallway and
straight into Director Stanton’s cramped office. He seemed startled by the
intrusion but said only, “May I help you?”

“Quite a step down from Dean of
Sirius Academy,” she observed.

His voice was as cold as the
weather outside when he replied, “One takes what one is offered. At fifty, my
options were limited.”

“What if I offered something
better?”

He put down his pen and cocked his
head. “I won’t murder anyone.”

She waved the thought away. “Nothing
illegal, just information. I’ve tried to access which clinic Mira Zeiss
attended when she was here. Even board access is denied.”

“Due to medical ethics.”

Amanda sat opposite the fallen
director, her sweater riding up as she did so. He definitely noticed her shape.
“You’re not medical personnel.”

He opened his mouth to object,
staring more openly. “Forgive me, at this station we don’t get many women of
your . . . caliber.”

“Your wife left you when you lost
your last position.”

“Yes.”

“Then she wasn’t worthy of you. Men
are lucky. They can start again into their seventies. This is an opportunity
for you.”

“An opportunity?”

“Our office in Rio de Janeiro does
a lot of entertaining to maintain relationships with various governments. The
budget for parties and events is sizeable. The position of chief administrator
comes with a beach-front condo that has an excellent view of possible wife
candidates. As a board member, my husband could recommend you for that
transfer.”

The director actually licked his
lips at the mention of the beach condo. “If I were interested in anomalies, I
would ask myself why Dr. Drang, a world-class fertility expert, decided to
relocate here temporarily.”

“Did I mention that the salary for Rio is twice what you make now?” she encouraged, leaning back and smoothing her hair in
order to show off her assets.

“I would also be curious why Conrad
and Mira Zeiss are his only clients.”

“For what purpose?”

Stanton swallowed hard. “I . . . I’m
not sure, but he has a lot of small, cryogenic-preservation equipment for
someone in the Antarctic.”

Amanda moved to the director’s
desk. “Are they collecting eggs and sperm in case the shuttle explodes?”

“That would be my guess. Only the
fertilized eggs can be frozen. The seals on the storage room require two
badges. Even I can’t get in.”

“But I could?”

“With your board-level access codes
and the doctor’s badge, yes.”

“Inform the doctor that war has
been declared against the company. For their protection, he and the samples
will accompany me to New York.”

The director hesitated. “Couldn’t I
go, too?”

She leaned against him to confide
in his ear. “That would look like I seduced you. I don’t want your good name
besmirched.”

“How do I know you’ll keep your
word?”

Amanda removed her inactive
earring, the one without the radio, and slipped it into the director’s hand.
“These were handmade and bear my name in microprint. They are my favorites,
worth at least fifty thousand dollars.” She closed his hand around it. Then,
she wrote the word ‘Rio’ on the napkin on his desk, sealing it with a kiss.
“Even if I die en route, the Mori clan will honor our deal when you present
this token to the head of the family.”

Stanton bowed. “I’ll summon the
doctor and tell him about the emergency evacuation.”

****

Using the secure communications
console in the tracking station, Amanda Mori called the most experienced page
physician alive, a retiree in Texas. “Doctor, I’m sorry to get you up so late.”

“It’s all right, Mrs. Mori. I don’t
sleep much these days. How can I help you?”

“A theoretical matter about pages.
If brief exposure to a certain person has the ability to stabilize quantum
talent for a week, could long-term exposure make the victim lucid?”

Standing in a red, plaid, flannel
robe, the doctor scratched his head. As an ethics reader, he couldn’t lie.
“Very possibly, but there are no studies.”

“Would the bond between a mother
and an infant qualify as an anchor?”

“With any woman I’ve met, yes.
Where is this leading?”

“I’m not at liberty to say . . .
not until the next board meeting. Good night.”

Commander Zeiss held 2 percent of
Fortune stock. Any heir would likely inherit this stock. She could get her
daughter back and garner billions in one swoop. Old man Fortune had insulted
her, and his son had ruined her career. Now it was time for some revenge.

While she was in the communications
room, a broadcast came from moon base informing her of two things: moon base
was under attack, and Yuki-san would be one of the first two humans inside the
alien craft. She called her husband immediately to pass on the news.