“Yes,” said Hansen. “I can see that it’s a ship. And you don’t need to hit her, Ervil.”
Ervil shrugged.
The setback was too stunning for tears. It left her flat, almost emotionless. She said, “Marten called it an ultra-stealth pod. It will, or should I say that it was supposed to have taken us to the Jupiter Confederation.”
Hansen’s foxy eyebrows rose. “You two have been busy. May I know why you wanted to journey to Jupiter?”
“Who wants to live under the Highborn?” she said. “But Marten also hates Social Unity, so Jupiter, is the closest system after Mars.”
“Word is the Martians rebelled against Social Unity when the Highborn first destroyed Geneva,” said Hansen. “And now the Highborn no longer garrison it with a Doom Star, not after May 10. Why not flee to Mars?”
She shook her head. “It’s in Inner Planets. Sooner or later it will be dragged into the war.”
Hansen glanced around, wincing as he did. He asked her, “Could this pod actually make to the Jupiter System?”
She couldn’t shrug with the tangle strands wrapping her. “The short answer is yes,” she said.
“What are you thinking, boss?” asked Ervil.
“Have you ever spent any time in a pain booth?” Hansen asked Ervil.
The short, wide-shouldered monitor shook his head.
“It’s unpleasant, an experience I don’t plan on repeating,” said Hansen. “It has also opened my eyes to reality. You can never please a Highborn.”
“You don’t think the Praetor would be pleased if you turned this up?” asked Ervil. “He might even make you Chief Monitor again.”
“He plans to stamp out all dream dust production,” said Hansen. “And to find the manufacturers and… I don’t know his plans for them, but that’s us, you and me—and you,” he told Nadia.”
Ervil touched the bandage swathed across his nose. His dead, emotionless eyes revealed nothing.
“I have a question,” said Nadia.
“Ask,” Hansen said.
“How did you find me?”
“Ah. When you last entered the habitat, to get your dream dust, I presume, a spy-stick shot an automated tracker onto your vacc suit.”
Nadia closed her eyes. She had forgotten to sweep her suit for bugs. Stupid. When she opened her eyes, she said, “So what do you plan?”
“Can you pilot this ship?” asked Hansen.
“Yes.”
Hansen blew out his cheeks in relief. “Then here and now I forgive you your errors.”
“What about him?” she asked.
Hansen regarded Ervil. “We’re finished in the Sun Works Factory.”
“You got too greedy, boss, that was the problem.”
Hansen stiffened. Maybe he wasn’t used to that sort of talk from his clean-up man. “Maybe so,” he said. “But I propose that we start fresh in the Jupiter System. She brought dream dust. So did I. That will be our stake in the new world.”
Ervil didn’t move and his gray eyes seemed to grow dull. “How long will the trip take?”
“Six months,” she said. “Maybe longer.”
Ervil shook his head. “You’ll go stir crazy, boss. And two men with one woman, that’s bad.”
“We need her to pilot the ship,” Hansen said.
Ervil turned his lifeless eyes on Nadia. He shrugged. “What about Dalt and Methlen?”
“They’ll have to fend for themselves,” Hansen said. “Five seems like too many people for this craft.”
Ervil grunted.
“Now untangle her,” said Hansen.
“Maybe it would be smarter to keep her tangled,” Ervil said. “She could tell you what to do and you pilot the ship. That way we don’t take no chances.”
Hansen seemed to consider it.
“Piloting is much trickier than that,” Nadia said. “I’d have to actually be at the controls.”
“She double-crossed you once already, boss. I don’t trust her.”
“We’ll watch her closely,” Hansen said.
“Take turns, huh?” said Ervil.
“Now, now, none of that,” Hansen said. “Don’t needlessly frighten her.”
“We can’t leave right away,” Nadia said, who was terrified of these two. Why had she ever gotten involved with drugs in the first place?
“Why can’t we leave?” asked Hansen.
“Things are too quiet,” she said. “We have to wait until the pods come back online.”
Hansen pursed his lips. “I destroyed my files, so we have a little time. The sooner we can leave the better.”
“Dalt and Methlen might be angry that you left them behind,” said Ervil. “They might talk too much once the Highborn catch them.”
“We’ll have to count on their staying out of sight for awhile,” said Hansen. He turned to Nadia. “Do we have a deal?”
She had no choice and she knew it. But she didn’t like the look in Hansen’s eyes, nor in Ervil’s. What would six months be like cooped up with these two? “It’s a deal,” she said.
“Good,” said Hansen, taking the bottle off Ervil’s belt. He sprayed her tangle strands and they wilted and fell to the floor. “Let’s get ready to leave.”
8.
Admiral Rica Sioux wore a spotless tan uniform, with a glittering row of medals. A snug, tan military cap hid her hair. She swiveled in the command chair, with a comlink embedded in her right ear and a VR-monocle over her left eye.
Everyone else on the command capsule wore a stiff, tan uniform of the Social Unity Space Fleet. Most were webbed into their modules, with VR-goggles and twitch-gloves. A clean odor filled the capsule, while brisk movement and sharply spoken words added to the military bearing. The transformation in the past eleven days had taken hold throughout the entire ship.
Admiral Sioux shifted anxiously. Short, swift, gratifying days with command briefings, inspections and practice drills had changed a sluggish, orbital-sick crew into eager warriors. Not even the flock of blips picked up by tracking had been able to check this impulse.
It was too bad about the early radar probe and the subsequent missile launches. Enemy jamming kept them in the dark about the exact nature of the incoming missiles. To warm up their own ECM pods to try to defeat the enemy sensors would give away their exact position. No. Long-distance beam shots out of the dark were the Bangladesh’s MO. The spread of enemy missiles proved the Highborn hadn’t spotted them again… unless they had done so optically. In any case, it would take over a week for the missiles to get close enough to fire any missile-borne lasers—if they even packed lasers.
Unless—she tapped her armrest—unless the very spread of missiles was a bluff! Admiral Sioux frowned, creasing her face full of wrinkles. Maybe the Highborn had spread the missiles to try to fool me. Maybe they track us with a hidden, secret ship of their own.
Admiral Sioux sipped from a sealed cup. It was a special medicated drink that smelled like coffee. This way only the medical officer knew that she was taking drugs to help calm her nerves.
Why did she have to worry so much? She hated it.
The First Gunner broke into her reverie, saying, “Entering firing range… now.”
Admiral Sioux savored the moment. Now! The Bangladesh was intact. Despite her fears, the Highborn could surely have no idea about what was to commence. 30 million kilometers was a short distance in space terms, but in terms of Solar System warfare, it was a revolution.
“Rotate the particle shield aft thirty degrees,” she said.
“Aft thirty degrees,” said the Shield Tech.
Outside the massive beamship, the huge 600-meter thick shield of rock and metal lifted as if a man lifted a visor on a helmet.
“Focus the projectors,” said Admiral Sioux.
“Projectors focused. Projectors in firing position,” said the First Gunner, his supple fingers flying over his control board.
A vast section slid open on the inner armored skin of the Bangladesh. A squat nozzle poked out, a green light winking in its orifice.