Crain played the recorded video message sent by Opera Beta. Tripp’s face fizzed to life above the table.
“Commence playback, please.”
Tripp appeared to speak to the members of the board. In reality, it was his recorded message to the lens on the N-Gage control panel.
“This is Tripp Healy, assumed captain of Space Opera Beta. We have lost her captain, Daryl Katz….”
The board watched as the lens caught sight of Saturn and her revolving rings through Opera Beta’s windshield.
“Shortly before boarding Space Opera Alpha we deciphered enough of Saturn Cry to ascertain that it was, indeed, sending a distress call. Baldron Landaker and Tor Klyce are in incarceration. Dimitri Vasilov, I hope you can hear this. Maar, I hope you’re with him. This has been a deliberate sabotage of our mission. I hope USARIC finds the powers it has to rectify the situation.”
Tripp shifted the lens. The board, and Maar and Crain, peered into the holographic video. A beautiful pink shaft of gas stretched out from the middle of Enceladus.
“Is that what they found?” Samuel asked.
Crain paused the video and enlarged the image with his fingers. He traced the pink light coming from Enceladus with his fingertip.
“Yes, this is what he was talking about. Resume playback, please.”
Tripp’s recording played on, “Alpha was destroyed. Most of us made it back, but we seem to have contracted some sort of virus. The same extends to Anderson—”
“Anderson?” Samuel asked.
“The cat,” Crain said. “Jelly Anderson. From the UK.”
“Ah, right. Yes, of course. The limey cat.”
“—Botanix has been compromised,” Tripp continued. “I am waiting on Manuel to report back on the severity of the damage. I do not expect it to be positive.”
Tripp lifted his head. The light show coming from Enceladus reflected across his pupils. Two pink tears rolled down his cheek, “Oh m-my. Look at it. It’s beautiful…”
The video paused for a couple of seconds and snapped away, leaving the vector of Charlie rotating above the table. All eyes averted to the image. Most in the room predicted what Maar wanted. It made them nervous.
“So?” Maar finished.
Everyone turned to him, including Crain and Kaoz.
“Let’s establish the facts, shall we?” Maar left a pregnant pause and made his way behind each of the seated board members, “Opera Beta found Alpha and destroyed it. It would appear the cat has decoded the distress call. They’ve all caught some hideous disease. I ask you, members of the board, does it make sense of Opera Charlie to go and rescue them?”
“For the sake of the crew?” Samuel chanced. “Yes, I think—”
“—No,” Maar said. “You think incorrectly, Samuel. The insurance claims alone will sink us.”
“You can’t be suggesting we—”
“—Beta is missing and contains the key to Saturn Cry. The crew are running out of oxygen. They’ll be dead by the time Charlie reaches them. We can’t take the risk of bringing them home. But we can go in there, destroy everything and come back home with the answer.”
“You w-want Charlie’s remit to go from search and rescue to… search and destroy?”
“Indeed I do.”
Maar waved his hand over the conference table. The images of three mercenaries appeared above the table – two men and a woman.
“Since news of the compound breach got out, we’ve seen the value of our stock plummet. We lost nearly half of our subjects.”
“This is insanity.”
Maar didn’t care for the board member’s response. He threw Kaoz a signaled wink.
“This is necessary,” Maar said. “The three crew members before you are the cream of the crop. Highly-trained, merciless killing machines. At the very top of their game. It is these five who will be manning Opera Charlie to get our property back. Namely, Jelly Anderson and the answer to Saturn Cry.”
Kaoz cocked his gun and aimed it at the board members. Crain, who was used to more due diligence, closed his eyes and allowed the inevitable to play out, “God help us all.”
“All those in favor of Opera Charlie’s remit being change to search and destroy raise your hands.”
No one dared move a muscle.
“Okay, let me put this another way,” Maar kicked the table in fury, “Those of you who wish to remain alive. Raise your hands, please.”
Six board members reluctantly put their hands in the air, leaving Samuel to freak out.
“This is asinine,” Samuel barked. He couldn’t believe his fellow colleagues would bow down to Maar’s demands, “This is improper. You can’t threaten us like this.”
“I think you’ll find I can,” Maar’s eyes crept behind Samuel’s shoulders. Kaoz marched a few feet away from the door, “All those in favor of Opera Charlie’s change of remit… keep your hands raised.”
The board members kept their hands in the air, eager to satisfy Maar and Kaoz.
Samuel refused to relent and screamed at his colleagues, “Are you serious? You’re just going to sit there and cave in while he—”
“—He’s got a gun, Samuel,” the female board member whispered, “Just do it.”
“I am not going to be bullied into turning a philanthropic endeavor into a wanton act of barbarism.”
“No?” Maar gave the man a final chance.
“No.”
“How very disappointing. We have six out of seven ayes at the moment,” Maar said. “Would the ascension of the value of your shares not compel you to vote the way your conscious tells you?”
“No, it would not.”
Maar nodded at Kaoz and returned to the chair at the head of the table, “That’s a pity.”
BLAMMM!
Samuel’s chest opened in a hail of blood and fragments of flesh and bone. He slumped to his knees and clutched at his heart, bringing Kaoz’s smoking gun to sight a few feet behind him.
The board members gasped in terror and kept their arms in the air.
Samuel slumped face-first to the ground, dead.
“Six for six. A unanimous decision,” Maar returned to his chair and folded his arms, “Anyone got a problem with that?”
The board members shook their heads with great enthusiasm.
“Good. You can put your hands down, now.”
Crain looked up from the desk and winced at the executed corpse bleeding across the floor. He felt like throwing up as he distributed the papers along to each person around the desk.
“My colleague, Crain, here, would like you to sign these NDAs,” Maar said to the board, “If anyone discovers my whereabouts, I will know it was one of you who told them. There will be ramifications for violating these non-disclosure agreements.”
The board members could barely keep their hands still as they signed the papers.
“Sign them.”
They jumped in their seats as Kaoz hovered over them, “You want me to start executing them one by one, Maar?”
“Kaoz, bad doggy!” Maar joked. “Be nice to our friends.”
Each board member signed the document without reading a single word. It was either that or risk getting shot.
“It’s unlikely we’ll all see each other again, of course,” Maar nodded at Crain to collect the papers. The old man did as instructed and collected them up from each person.
“Sorry. Can I just take this, please?”
Maar watched as he moved on to the next board member, “My colleague, Kaoz, will escort you back to your cars. If you’re feeling nervous about your association with USARIC, then fair enough. I can’t say I’d be surprised.”