“Intelligence is going to love the headache that’s going to give them,” Nelyubov said.
“It works both ways, Lieutenant,” the Senator replied. “They’ll have every opportunity in the world to get their own people into the Cabal. I can see a pretty impressive intelligence war out there, but that doesn’t matter. The key thing is that we have a resolution that all of us can live with. It might only hold for a few years, but we’ll have the time we need to get ourselves ready.”
“And after living together for a while, we might be able to work out how to get along, especially with trade links established. Work to drive change in the Cabal through more covert means, rather than by force of arms,” Orlova said, nodding.
“We’ve got a long road ahead, Lieutenant, and there’s going to be a lot of work for the Fleet, but the immediate problem is resolved.”
“Not quite, Senator,” Nelyubov replied. “We’ve still got to get it ratified by the Senate.”
“But at least we now have something to ratify. I’m going out there now to present this, see if I can rally the troops for another push. Nice to have a few more cards in my hand again.” Clapping his hand on Nelyubov’s shoulder, he said, “I’ll be sure to get a few jabs in at Norman as well, while I’m at it. Nice bit of work, there.”
Orlova’s communicator – carried out of habit rather than need, started to chirp, and she pulled it out of her pocket, glancing at the data display. A signal from outside Mars-space, from the far Trojan point, coded for her eyes only. She looked at the others, frowning.
“Anyone know about anything happening at Titov?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” the Senator said.
Holding up her communicator, she said, “Someone’s sending me a message. Big file, downloading direct.”
“You aren’t linked into the network, are you?” Nelyubov asked.
“Of course not.”
“Then what’s the harm in seeing what the message says?”
Shrugging, she tapped a button, and the voice of Logan Winter echoed through the corridor, sending Nelyubov racing to a wall display with a start.
“Logan to Orlova. This message is going to you and Harper, independently, through enough back channels that there’s no chance of a back-trace. That’s in case either if you are out of the game.
I
f you are still operative, Maggie, go out and talk to one of the journalists, in a manner that will indicate that you aren’t captive, and that it is not a delayed recording. Message to follow on that confirmation. Harper’s getting a slightly different version.”
“He’s back?” Nelyubov said.
“I guess so. There still a press pack outside?” she asked.
“They’re down to a few dedicated hacks, but enough for a brief press conference. At least one of the networks is doing a live feed, I’ve got one of the
grunts
monitoring it.”
“What did he do wrong?” Orlova asked. “Where’s Kristin?”
“No idea,” Nelyubov replied. “Right now, probably working on her own response to the message. I’m guessing that Logan’s out there somewhere monitoring all channels.”
“Then we can count on this getting to him quickly,” she said, heading for the airlock.
Pausing for a second, Nelyubov said, “You realize that this might be a trap?”
“Logan would find a way to warn us,” she replied. “Besides, I’m not leaving Embassy grounds, and if the security grunts were going to break in to get me, they’d have done it by now. Frank, I need you to look up something for me. I need a score.”
“A score?”
“Of a game, anything.”
Looking at his watch, he said, “You realize it’s 0200, right? The middle of the night?”
“Somewhere on this planet, someone is playing a game, and it is being transmitted live. That’s how I tell Logan that I’m sending this message now.”
Shaking his head, he replied, “I’ll get right on it,” and pulled out his datapad.
As the group walked to the airlock, the Senator asked, “What are you going to say?”
“I’m going to answer some questions about the Cabal.”
Rubbing his hand against his chin, he replied, “You could tell them about the peace treaty.”
“Not yet. Not until we know what Logan has to tell us. For all we know, there’s a Cabal attack in progress.” She paused, then said, “We’ve been assuming that our forces have captured Hades Station.”
“Of course.”
“What if they haven’t? What if Marshall, Cooper and the
others
are prisoners right now, and a new group of diplomats is coming to negotiate their release?”
“If that happened, we’re at war. Just as those idiots want.” Nodding, he continued, “Quite right, Maggie.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m damn sure they pulled it off, but I’m just playing the percentages.”
“Lieutenant,” the medic still hovering behind her said, “You really don’t need to stress that leg too much.”
“I’ll sit down once I’m done with this,” she said. Then she smiled, and added, “Thanks, Doc. You’ve just given me the topic of my press conference.”
Outside, the word had someone got around that she was about to speak, and a group of journalists were gathering around. At some point over the last month, they’d received permission to set up a temporary dome connected to one of the Embassy airlocks, moving from spacesuits to shirt-sleeves as a result. That was going to make this easier. Tapping a control, she opened the double locks, and looked into a dozen faces and a trio of cameras focused on her position.
“Lieutenant Orlova,” one of them started, but she held up her hand.
“I have a statement to make, and then I will answer questions for a short time. My doctor has advised me that I shouldn’t stay on my leg for too long, so this will be brief.” A hand tapped her on the shoulder, offering her a datapad. Glancing back for a second at Nelyubov’s sheepish face, she said, “And for the record, Yang Zie has just won his fourth game in the final of the Interplanetary Chess Tournament, putting him two-one up, with a draw, against Alison Bates.”
“A few weeks ago, you will have seen me being brought back to the Embassy after a firefight, and I know there were some rather wild speculations about how I suffered those injuries. I will tell you now that these were not sustained in any action with the security services. I was temporarily held captive by a group running an illegal drug lab out in the desert. Their operation has since been terminated with the cooperation of the Ragnarok Embassy.” She looked around, and said, “Three questions. Make ‘em good.”
She pointed at the first person who raised his hand, who said, “Tom Stewart, Sagan City Newsbeat. What were you doing out on the desert in the first place? We were under the impression that you were in the embassy.”
“I can’t give you any details, but I can say that I was securing information that will prove that I am not the spy they are looking for.”
“Magda Raskova, Callisto Tonight. You are, then, denying the charges of espionage?”
With a smile, she said, “I am currently operating under some rather unusual sealed orders, but those permit me to tell you that there is a Cabal intelligence network on Mars and that I am not a part of it.”
“Are you investigating it?” she pressed.
“I’ll have to let you use your own judgment on that one, and then thank all of you for being of use in completing the current phase of my assignment.” She smiled, and said, “Perhaps someday there will be an opportunity to fully brief you.”
“Lieutenant,” another voice said.
“No,” she replied, “I said three questions, and you had them. Now I need to rest, as per doctor’s orders.”
“Get well soon, Lieutenant,” a journalist at the back yelled, as the door slid shut.
“That was a bit close to the truth, wasn’t it,” the Senator said once she was back in the corridor. “Telling them that there is a Cabal intelligence network here.”
“There almost certainly is; that’s a guess, but I think a fairly safe one. Whether they have anything to do with our would-be putschists is another question entirely, but at least I’ve given some more cover for anything that leaks out later. A Cabal plot will be a lot easier to swallow.”
“Yes, but you might have just given some ammunition to the Progressives.”
With a shrug, she replied, “The people have reason to be worried right now. In any case, Logan will have been watching, and as soon as the time-lag permits, I suspect that I’ll be getting the rest of the message.”
After less than a minute, her communicator chirped again, and Logan’s voice said, “Chess, Maggie? Wow. Still, I guess I’ve got what I was looking for and I’m glad – but not surprised – that you are still free.”
“Now for the meat
–
I’m back in Sol, with at least a few reinforcements. We’ve got more coming. Alamo’s on its way home. Hades Station has been captured by the Triplanetary Fleet, the Cabal forces driven off, and a task force destroyed, though our forces in-system aren’t in much better shape. I understand that everything’s still being held up at your end, and that’s excellent news.”
“Alamo’s bringing back at least two witnesses to testify before the Senate. Captain Marshall intends to head direct to Mars orbit to deliver his witnesses. Knowledge of what is going on has been kept reasonably tight, but the crew of Alamo know what is happening. Lieutenant Esposito is with me.
W
e should be on the surface by tomorrow, but I don’t plan to make any direct contact with you. I’m in a fallback position here, running interference if something goes wrong. I’m on this channel now, so if you need to tell me something, feel free.”
“The ship won’t get into orbit,” Nelyubov said. “The planetary defense network will shoot it down.”
“They couldn’t get away with that!” the Senator yelled.
With a sigh, Orlova nodded, and said, “No, they’ll try it. Someone will be court-martialed for the terrible error, but they don’t even have to destroy the ship. Just slow it down for a few hours.”
“We’ll have to deal with it, then,” Nelyubov said, nodding.
“How? All of us are known, and there’s no way we could run a successful infiltration.”
Harper walked up, looking around, and said, “I presume you got Logan’s message?”
“Yes,” Orlova said. “Where have you been?”
“Satisfying the conditions he set down. You’re going to hear on the news that Clarke City’s Independence Day laser display has gone off three weeks early. Quite a show.”
Shaking her head, Orlova replied, “We’ve got to get the planetary defense network off-line.”
Her eyes widening, the hacker said, “For once, even I couldn’t do that. You’re looking at a sealed bunker that is deliberately kept independent of all outside networks. We’d have to get inside.” Frowning, she added, “If we did, I might be able to handle it. At least for a while.”
The Senator stepped forward, and said, “You can’t seriously be thinking of sending my daughter to commit an act of treason.”
“It isn’t treason if she gets a direct Presidential order,” Orlova replied. “How about it, Kristin? Are you willing to volunteer?”
“You don’t need to ask me twice,” she replied.
“Then it’s settled.” Ignoring the seething Senator, Orlova opened the channel, and said, “I’m sending Kristin Harper to meet you on the surface, details to follow, with some orders for you direct from the President. The general gist is this; we need you to knock out the planetary defense network.”
“Details to follow?” Nelyubov said. “That’s the understatement of the century.”
Chapter 20
It had been almost four years since Logan had last set foot on Mars, and as he recalled, he’d had good reason to keep his presence quiet during that visit as well. He walked down Central Street, moving as fast as possible away from Sagan City’s spaceport, with Esposito and Boris flanking him on either side, the three watching each other’s backs and looking around for anyone who might be monitoring them. A precaution that was probably meaningless with security cameras around, but it might provide a split-second of warning that would give him the time to get out of the way.
Harper was waiting for them in a backstreet chop shop, specializing in magnetic implants, a tool favored by electrical engineers, but one that generally tended to be expensive. This was the equivalent of a second-rate tattoo parlor, but the hacker seemed to know it well enough. Not the sort of place he would have chosen, though; too out of the way, too few people around. The group they were up against loved working in the shadows where it was nice and quiet, where no-one could watch their misdeeds.
Gesturing almost imperceptibly with his hand, Logan turned down the side street, and walked up to the access ladder, one that would take him almost up to the roof of the dome where a series of old control centers hung. In some places, these would have been high-value apartments, but Sagan City had seen better days. The sort of tenants who might take up such facilities simply didn’t live here anymor
e. I
nstead, the City government had essentially left them to rot.
It was a long climb for someone who had spent too much time in zero gravity, almost an eighth of a mile, and the concentration he required meant that he wasn’t paying enough attention to his surroundings. At one point he saw a something that might have been a drone, zipping behind one of the skyscrapers near the middle of the city, but it could easily just have been a trick of the eye. Even if it was a drone, enough journalists had smelled that something was going on that there was no way of knowing who was watching the feed at the other end.
He reached the top, climbing carefully onto the platform, looking down at the half-dozen shops on either side, all of them at best semi-legal.
H
e guessed that the climb tended to put off the local security services, that or they’d decided to keep all the rotten eggs in one easily observable basket. Which didn’t bode well for keeping his presence on Mars a secret. Looking down, he saw Boris slowly making his way up after him, Esposito hopefully in position to keep an eye on what was going on a
t
street level.
The view was extraordinary; he could just make out the beginnings of the great northern ice cap glinting in the sun, and the long, century-old roads carved into the landscape by the early colonizers, the remains of the original settlements, abandoned when the city-domes were constructed by the middle of the 21st century, still dormant and waiting for some future use. He smiled, pondering that it was likely that someone was making good use of them now, no doubt on some enterprise that no-one was meant to know about.