Nancy Winkowski’s eyes widened. “Mr. Brahms, the security—”
“Do it. Now.” He felt suddenly tired, and wiped a hand across his forehead. Exhaustion clung to his bones. Too many things were happening—there were too many decisions, too many memories, but he could not rest yet. Orbitech 1 depended on him. “Those who cannot attend are urged to view the ceremony on the holotanks.”
Winkowski blinked at him, but couldn’t seem to form her concern into words. Brahms sighed with tired impatience. “You heard my orders?”
“But, sir, you can’t—”
“Do it.” He felt exasperated.
Winkowski stood her ground. “Mr. Brahms—you have our allegiance. You know that. But this is suicide. What if the people rally around McLaris and try to overthrow you!”
Brahms laughed, astonished. “McLaris stole the Miranda and ran away from us at our time of greatest need.”
She looked around and spoke quickly. “Am I allowed to call in reinforcements? Arm the guards—”
“Absolutely not! This is not an armed camp. If we begin to do things like that, people will grow restless. It will become a self-fulfilling prophesy.”
Brahms glanced around the shuttle bay, struck by the relatively few watchers present. Winkowski might indeed have cause for concern, but he decided to stick to his beliefs. He had been strong; he had made tough decisions before. But all the time a nagging thought in the back of his mind kept questioning. Was he slipping, after all?
Brahms forced a whisper. “All right, limit the number of people in the shuttle bay to fifty. First come, first served. Get maximum coverage of the arrival over the holotank.”
Looking somewhat relieved, Winkowski turned and pushed off for the elevator.
Brahms floated in the bay, waiting for word of the Phoenix. The holotank above the main access projected a visual from ConComm. Holocameras displayed the yo-yo as it approached Orbitech 1.
Any moment now Brahms expected to see the awkward rockets ignite. He could make out more and more of the old Miranda’s hull. It seemed ironic that McLaris would return in the same vessel he had fled in. But instead of a gleaming new spacecraft, the Phoenix looked like a broken body—just as McLaris was returning a defeated, broken man.
Anger began to glow in Brahms again. Seeing the wrecked shuttle would probably stir the people up even more. McLaris wouldn’t have a chance.
A sudden noise caught his attention. He searched the shuttle bay, saw everyone turn at the same time toward the elevator. Three limp bodies, surrounded by blood spinning in red globules, were pushed into the hangar area. Seconds later a crowd poured from the exit. They must have climbed into the shaft—
He heard more shouting, then a figure pointed at Brahms up in the control bay. The man bent his knees and shot his body upward, followed by a shouting crowd. Brahms froze, unable to understand what was happening.
As they drew close, he recognized Allen Terachyk leading the way.
Chapter 59
KIBALCHICH—Day 72
Karen punched at the intercom controls, trying to get anything to work, to open up the control room. She ran through different combinations of buttons on the tiny panel. No response.
“{{NUCLEAR DEVICES INTERLOCKED, READY FOR PRIMARY AND SECONDARY DETONATIONS. AUDIO OVERRIDE NOT REQUESTED, COUNTDOWN PROCEEDING. ONE THOUSAND SECONDS TO DETONATION. ANNOUNCEMENTS WILL CONTINUE AT INCREMENTS OF ONE HUNDRED SECONDS UNTIL THE FINAL ONE HUNDRED SECONDS.}}”
Karen kept pounding at the panel; still nothing. She pleaded into the intercom.
“Anna, please don’t do this—you can stop it! Think of all the people who are going to die. Think of how that’ll harm the future of the entire human race. You’re someone who looks toward the future. Don’t you believe anymore? We can all work together and make our dreams real.”
Karen fell silent for a moment, then continued, this time with an angry, exasperated tone in her voice. “That’s right, don’t answer me! If you don’t respond, you don’t have to justify your actions. Just stay locked inside there and hide. That’s what you’re good at, isn’t it, Anna? Hiding! When the War happens and things look grim, instead of trying to work with the rest of us, you and everyone aboard the Kibalchich just go to sleep and wait until somebody else solves the problem. If you hide under the covers, maybe it’ll get better all by itself. You’re a coward!
“What about your Mars colony? I know that’s what your work was about. It can be more than a dream if all the colonies come together. Don’t throw everything away!”
The intercom remained silent. Anna Tripolk ignored her. Karen looked wildly around. What else can I do? Come on, think!
Were there any other access doors? Was there another master control panel, or a hidden air vent? She swept her eyes around the curving walls. There was nothing. The command center remained sealed.
In the command center, Anna’s eyes widened at the appalling stupidity of the Americans. She couldn’t speak in her astonishment, but then everything broke through and she screamed into the intercom speaker.
“This is the Mars colony! The Kibalchich itself!” Anna sucked in a deep, gasping breath. “How could you be so blind? All the sleepfreeze chambers were here for testing and deployment! As soon as we were certain they worked, all two hundred of us were to go into hibernation, except for Commander Rurik and a few monitors.”
She pounded her fist on the arm of the command chair. “The warheads we carried were supposed to be used for thrust—detonated against the shield to accelerate us out of Earth orbit on a long, slow journey to Mars! Why else would we prepare for such a long period of isolation? Or strengthen our equipment for lateral accelerations? Think!”
The words rolled out. She had always loved talking about her dream, but now the words wounded her as she spoke them. “When we got there, an initial team of colonists would be awakened to set up base camp on the surface. Our reflecting mirror was designed to detach and go into Mars-stationary orbit, where it would focus sunlight onto our colony and down into a power substation. We were going to revive more of us as rapidly as the colony could handle them.”
She laughed. “It was beautiful, beautiful! All the while, the rest of you thought we were just a research station here. Mars was going to be ours.”
Anna realized she had begun sobbing. At least Langelier had stopped talking. “But now, that will never happen. You have stolen our sleepfreeze chambers. You are ganging up on us. Even my own people had other plans for the Kibalchich—as a weapon against your colony! And now I have no choice but to use it, to save the future.”
Anna drew in a breath and closed her eyes, shivering with the cold in the room. Orbitech 1 held seven times as many people as the Kibalchich … but numbers held no weight. If the death of two people in the yo-yo would pave the way for her dream, then how was Rurik’s situation any different? If one death is justified, then why not two? Three?
Or even more? What makes the measure of an ideal, a lifelong dream? Her mind crunched through the rationale, sounding like a different voice in her head. Can a true dream be measured by any number of souls? And how is one death any different from a thousand? But she was only going to stop the Phoenix.