Argus Station
Twenty people waited in the control room. These included Langstrom, Peach and Mustafa, escorting a thin man with cropped grey hair standing hunched over in his prison overalls. There were also thirteen frightened-looking staff Saul had summoned, all of them clad in the same sort of technician’s garb worn by Chang and the twins, who were also present. Saul glanced at Hannah and nodded to the console they had used earlier. Understanding at once, she moved over to it, then turned and stood with her arms folded. Saul moved past this small crowd to gaze out across Argus Station, leaving them hovering and unsure about what they should do. He didn’t need to look round to know that the spidergun now loomed in the doorway. Even without the multiple views he could summon the sudden terrified stillness would have told him enough.
‘You are Robert Le Roque,’ he began, still without turning.
‘I am,’ the thin ex-prisoner agreed, straightening up and stepping away from Langstrom to move to the fore.
‘Formerly technical director of this entire station?’ Saul now turned to focus on the man.
‘Until Political Director Smith decided otherwise.’ Le Roque smiled nastily and glanced towards Langstrom. ‘But Director Smith is currently being processed into fertilizer for the Arboretum, so he has turned out to be unexpectedly useful in the end.’
‘Yes, the station digesters are going to be busy for some time yet.’
Le Roque folded his arms, as if feeling cold, and continued, ‘So what are your intentions now, and what do you want with me?’
Saul studied the man a moment longer. Certainly, to have reached the rank of Technical Director of this station, Le Roque must have had some less than savoury aspects to his past. But, having studied the extensive data fled in the Political Office, Saul knew political manoeuvring was not the main reason for this man’s promotion. Le Roque was highly intelligent and capable; in fact if he had been less so, he would have ended up in a cell long ago, for he had been far too much of a free thinker
‘I want you to resume the position you held here previously,’ said Saul. ‘I want you, and your staff here’ – he gestured to the others present – ‘to prepare everyone aboard Argus Station for the moment when, in twenty-three hours’ time, it swings about the Moon and I again fire up the Traveller engine to put us on a course for Mars.’
Shock registered on the man’s face, amid gasps from others in the room. Le Roque, however, recovered quickly. ‘And if I’m not willing?’
Saul shrugged. ‘I’ll find someone else, then. But you and everyone here must understand,’ he surveyed the group before him, ‘that there’s no going back. So food, water and air cannot be wasted on those who will not work for the survival of all aboard.’
The expressions of shock were still there, but in some faces he could see the kind of cowed acceptance that resulted from a lifetime of being ground down by the Committee. There would be, he knew, some here – and throughout the rest of the station – who had loved ones down on Earth who they had expected to return to, and he had now taken that option away from them. Part of him wanted to offer them some solution but, having set himself firmly on this course, he simply could not afford to expend valuable resources such as those space planes out on the docking pillars. Also, he could not afford to show the slightest sign of weakness. What would they be returning to anyway? Even a brief inspection of the data flooding Govnet rendered the expected results. If they thought they would just disembark from those planes and return to normal lives down there, they were sadly mistaken. Perhaps he should now acquaint them with some of the facts.
‘You realize, I hope,’ he said, ‘that even if you made it down safely to one of the space-plane runways on Earth, your first port of call would be an adjustment cell – where you would be interrogated until every last detail of what has happened here was extracted from you. After that there would be no release either – whatever authority remains down there would not want you blabbing your story to anyone else. Already the Committee “press officers” are at work, and Govnet is flooded with news of a successful test run of the Argus network, and the successful repositioning of the Argus Station.’
He let that sink in for a moment, before turning back to Le Roque.
‘What about . . . after?’ The man’s voice caught in his throat. ‘After we’re safely on course for Mars? What will you want of me then?’
‘I’ll want you to get everyone onboard the station back to work, all previous maintenance schedules adhered to, the self-sustaining programmes recommenced and the researchers in Arcoplex Two back on the job. I also want the entire station secured for space flight, strengthening made wherever required, the tubeways fully completed, and work started on a full enclosure of the inner station.’
‘We will need the smelting plants back online,’ observed Le Roque.
Saul nodded towards the Moon now beginning to recede behind the Argus Station. ‘After we swing round the Moon, the smelters can once again be extended. They will continue to function with the existing arrays of mirrors for seven months, though with declining efficiency, and we can extend that period by manufacturing more mirrors.’
‘Mars?’ said Le Roque.
‘Yes.’
Le Roque grimaced towards the others before refocusing on Saul. He ran a hand down his yellow overalls. ‘I would like to change out of these before I get to work.’
‘Of course.’ Saul gestured towards the door of the man’s former apartment. ‘I want you to move your personal effects later to Smith’s quarters in the Political Office, which I notice are more capacious than your apartment here. After that you can convert the control centre located there into a secondary version of this one.’ Saul stabbed a finger down at the floor. ‘I’m sure you’ll find a better use for the rest of the Political Office – I note manufacturing space has been tight while valuable resources were squandered there, and also on the cell block.’
Le Roque nodded briefly, and departed.
Saul turned to Chang and the twins. ‘Anything you want,’ he said. ‘Within obvious limits.’
Brigitta glanced at her sister. ‘We want to transfer to Robotics.’ She paused as if not quite sure how far to push it. ‘Will you be running this place like Smith did?’
‘No,’ Saul replied firmly, before turning to Langstrom. ‘As the new head of security here, you will now find that the list of punishable offences has been substantially reduced, so reading it won’t take you long. All of the sections headed “Political Subversion” have been deleted, and you will be receiving no instructions from the Political Office. That’s because it has ceased to exist, and you answer to me alone.’
The legal system here had been merely a straight upload from Earth: unless something was actually approved, it was considered illegal – Roman law – but with the extra twist that all ‘offenders’ were deemed guilty until proved innocent. Judgement and sentencing was delivered by Inspectorate Executive, who would also have investigated the alleged ‘crime’ they sat judgement upon. The catalogue of such crimes, their parameters nicely vague and open to Inspectorate interpretation, had been huge, but it took Saul less than a minute to hack it down by nearly 90 per cent. It was now not a crime, for example, to suggest that your food ration tasted ‘funny’ – an offence that had merited being ‘interviewed’ for five hours by an Inspectorate Exec, assisted by two enforcers and a pain inducer.
Langstrom looked thoroughly surprised as Saul continued, ‘Your men will only carry ionic tasers and nightsticks, and your main duty will be to ensure civilian order. However, I have some other chores for you to complete before then. First you must ensure that everyone is released from the cell block, and that all Smith’s toys there are decommissioned.’