While Jan was putting it on the first man came down from the control room. “Just the two of them,” he said.
“And maybe a bomb wired to go off. This still could be a trap.”
“Well, you volunteered for this mission.”
“Don’t remind me. Stay with the tied-up one, don’t release him, while I shuttle this one over.”
Jan was only happy to obey. Once outside the lock he saw the spidery form of a medium-sized deep spacer in orbit to the rear of the scout. His captor, with a jet pack on his suit, grabbed Jan by the arm and towed him over to the open airlock of the waiting ship. There were two other gunmen watching him as he came out of the airlock and stripped off his suit. A large man in a black uniform was looking at him closely. His hair was blond, melding into gray, his jaw large and pugnacious and thrust in Jan’s direction.
“I am Admiral Skougaard,” he said. “Now tell me what all this is about.”
Jan was unable to talk, speechless, overwhelmed by a sense of deepest despair.
Because the Admiral was wearing the same Space Forces uniform that he was.
Sixteen
Jan fell back, as though struck a physical blow. The guns followed him and the Admiral frowned at the movement — then nodded understandingly.
“The uniform, is that it?” Jan could only nod wordlessly in return. The iron face cracked into a grim smile. “Perhaps I wear it as you do — if you are what you say you are. Not all men of Earth are traitors to mankind. Some of us helped, or there would have been no rebellion from the stars. Now I am going to have you searched, Kulozik, and then you will tell me your entire story in the finest detail that you can.”
The Admiral was no fool and made Jan repeat the details over and over, checking on names and dates and many precise points that he seemed familiar with. They were interrupted just once when a report came in that the IP-256 had been searched for bombs and other devices and was clear. A pilot would take her to join the fleet. Finally the Admiral raised his hand and cut Jan short.
“Niels,” he ordered. “Get us some coffee.” He turned back to Jan. “I am going to accept your story — for the time being. All of your details about the food expedition are correct, including some that I doubt the Earth forces could know. I am aware of the true facts because I was the one who gathered the ships and arranged all the organization of the expedition.”
“Did any of them get through?”
“Over half. Not as many as we hoped, but enough to ward starvation off for awhile longer. Now we come to the new and interesting part of your story and frankly, I have just no way to evaluate it. You know this Thurgood-Smythe well?”
“Far too well. My brother-in-law as I said. He is a monster of cunning.”
“And treachery. We can be absolutely sure of that. He is either betraying his trust and aiding the rebellion. Or has laid a complex and treacherous trap to destroy us. So it must be treachery either way.”
Jan sipped the strong, black coffee and nodded agreement. “I know. But what can we do? At least one part is certain, the Israeli participation.”
“Which could simply be a more deadly part of the trap. To lure us in and destroy us. The Israelis could very well be helpless pawns, doomed to destruction to further his ends.”
“They might very well be. It is the sort of thing that would appeal to him. I hadn’t thought about that. But what of his plan to seize the Mojave base? That sounded reasonable. It certainly would affect the outcome of the war.
The Admiral laughed, then blew on his coffee to cool it. “Not only reasonable, but the only possibility of victory for either side. We know it and they know it. We could capture the Lunar bases, the satellites, even all of the Lagrange colonies, and Earth could survive. Her fleet would be as strong. And we would grow weaker with every passing moment. Mojave is the key. The other shuttle bases are merely landing strips. Whoever controls Mojave controls space operations — and wins this war.”
“Then it’s that vital?”
“It is.”
“What do you plan to do?”
“Analyze it and sleep on it before I see you again. In any case there is nothing to be done yet, not until we are closer to Earth’s orbit. I’m going to lock you in a cell for awhile. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. After Captain Lastrup’s company I’ll enjoy the solitude. How is he?”
“Under sedation. He is in a bad way mentally and will need treatment.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. This is war. In the same situation he would undoubtedly have killed you.”
An aide interrupted with a printout which he handed to the Admiral, who read it slowly, then raised his eyes to Jan. And smiled as he extended his hand.
“Welcome aboard, Jan Kulozik. This is the confirmation that I was waiting for. One of our ships is in orbit around Halvmork, unspaceworthy after the fighting. But its communication apparatus is operational and they are hooked into the Foscolo net. They have checked your story out with the people there. What you have told us is the truth. There is an additional message here that they confirmed all of the personal parts of your story with your wife. She sends her love.”
Jan seized the Admiral’s outstretched hand. “It’s my pleasure to serve with you, sir. I’ve had no part in the rebellion up until now…”
“You have done more than most people. You are the one who saw to it that the corn was waiting when the ships arrived — it would have burned except for your leadership. Do you realize how many lives that food saved?”
“I know, I realize that it was important. But it was a passive action that’s over and done with now. The reason that I was arrested and transported in the first place was because of my activities in the resistance. Now that the planets are free, and the last battle is about to begin, you must understand, I want to take a part in that.”
“And so you shall. Just as long as you make yourself available at all times for our intelligence people. They’ll want to pick your brain. Then we may need you as well for liaison with the Israelis once the fighting starts. Satisfactory?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll do whatever is asked of me. By training I’m an electronic engineer and I used to specialize in microcircuitry design. But it has been mostly mechanical maintenance the last years.”
“That is first class — and there is a very good chance that you are just the man we need. I want you to meet another technician, Vittono Curtoni. He is in charge of our armament, and has designed most of our defenses, including what everyone refers to as the secret weapon. I understand there are still some teething troubles with it, so perhaps you could be of help.”
“That would be ideal.”
“Good. I’ll arrange transport to the Leoizardo.” The Admiral raised his hand and an aide came hurrying over.
One of the scouts vectored to the flagship while Jan suited up again, then transferred to it. He stayed in the open airlock so he would not waste any time pressurizing and depressurizing. Through the open hatch he could see the arc of deep spacers that spread out and away on both sides. One of the ships was coming close, growing larger and larger until they killed their momentum just a few meters away. Jan kicked out and drifted across the gap to the waiting and open airlock of the Leonardo.
A lean, black-haired man with a great brush of a moustache was waiting for him inside.
“Are you Kulozik, the one who is supposed to help me?” he asked, with more suspicion than enthusiasm in his voice.
“lf you’re Vittono Curtoni, then I’m the one. Yes, I hope that I can help. I know I can if you can use the services of an experienced microelectronic engineer.”