Waiting (4 page)

'Only a mother
like you could come out with that. Pass on my love if you can.'

'Gunther...'

'Yes?'

'Go before I
shoot you.'

Gunther
chuckled, winked, then stomped down the ramp. He had barely reached
the entrance to the Base when he heard the Spider take off behind
him. He didn't look back.

Chapter 8

President Sol
Maxim, President of the Western Tricor, swirled the finest red wine
in an antique cut crystal goblet. 'A pleasurable meeting with
Gunther?'

Loretti pulled
off her black leather gloves, sat in an overstuffed red leather
armchair and annoyed her host by resting her booted feet on the
priceless, ornate coffee table, with the onyx top.

'It went as we
anticipated.'

Maxim chewed on
his lower lip as Loretti did the unthinkable and took a small cigar
from her tunic pocket, lit up and blew smoke in his direction. She
was the only one on the planet who could get away with such
preposterous behaviour, and then only just.

'He doesn't
wish to abandon the mission?'

'Gunther sees
it as his personal responsibility. He is more scientist than
military. Always was. He supervised turning the mountain into the
Base. He did a pretty good job of it, making it virtually
impregnable. But more than that, he worked with Jacobs to build the
Goliath and equip it. All this achieved during the on again off
again war.'

'You seem to
have developed a grudging respect for him.'

'Nothing I'd
ever admit to. But I do understand his commitment to the mission,
even now.'

Maxim said,
'Commitment is one thing. He has lost control of the mission.'

'True. I have
given him ten days to regain control. I doubt if he can.'

'And if he
can't?'

Loretti smiled,
the scars on her cheek creasing. 'I threatened to send him to the
front.'

Maxim smiled.
'Always an option.'

'True. Oh. How
is
the war going, by the way?'

'The official
version?'

Maxim shrugged.
'The truth will do.'

Loretti took
her boots off the table, pulled a tube of metal from a pouch on her
belt, balanced it on one end and pressed the tip. 'My latest
report.'

A dome of
lights emanated from the tube, covering most of the table. It was a
swirling mass of colours and shapes. 'We are the blue. Note we are
surrounding three of their countries. Drone soldiers on the ground,
also on the mobile laser cannon, directed from our command ships.
Spider class fighters with the air strikes. This area here is our
objective. Take it out and we win.'

Maxim leaned
forward, not being completely fooled by Loretti. 'Very little
progress as I see it, from your last report. Oh! But do my eyes
deceive me? This area is where our forces are being totally
slaughtered?'

'It happens in
war. We can't have it all our own way. Perhaps if you and the
Tricor Centors had some courage we would be better equipped.'

Maxim groaned
softly at Loretti's digs, knowing they were intended directly at
his leadership. 'The world of politics and budgets are inextricably
linked. It was either the war effort, or the mission.'

'And we all
know how that went.' It was time to go. She made a point of
stubbing her cigar out on the table, closed the tube and tucked it
into it's pouch. 'The mission is lost.'

'The mission
was doomed from the start. We...mankind...needed something to cling
on to. The mission seemed like a good idea at the time.'

'Men. Such
fools.'

Loretti stormed
away to the Spider and her ship took off.

Chapter 9

Lieutenant
Giles Staples didn't like what he was hearing.

'Major Gunther.
Surely I would be more use here.'

Gunther grasped
both shoulders of the young military technician. 'And of course, I
couldn't agree more with you, Staples. To be honest, I fully
expected for the Base to be shut down completely and for General
Loretti to demote me so much I'd be swabbing out the headquarters
underground sewers or even be shot. So. Blessed with at least a
breathing space to keep this mission viable, you and Sergeant
Willis have to leave to make this possible.'

'And we have to
make our own way like lambs to the slaughter to the front? That's a
thousand miles from here. One hell of a walk, sir.'

'You two can
take the armoured Charger. You'll be there in three days.'

'I appreciate
that, sir,' said Staples. 'I just love the idea of me and Willis
reaching a certain death sooner.'

Gunther said,
'That's the chance you'll have to take.' Gunther had called Staples
away from the others to talk to him alone. He stared into the
lieutenant's green eyes and knew much depended on the trust he had
in the young man and the consequences of misplacing that trust.
'Get your belongings and take the Charger outside. I'll come with
you to see you off.'

'Sir?'

Gunther placed
his finger to his lips. 'Just do it, lieutenant. Willis can catch
up later.'

'Sir?'

Gunther touched
his lips with one finger as he waggled a warning with his other
hand. Staples nodded then hurried away. Eleven minutes later, he
had taken the six-seat Charger outside and the major climbed in by
his side. Lieutenant Staples was letting the mighty engine idle as
he waited for Willis to catch them up.

'Sir. You have
something to say?'

'Do you believe
in the mission, son?'

'What sort of a
question is that? To be here with you and the others working on the
only possible salvation of the human race is as big as it gets.
Isn't there any way I can stay?'

Gunther could
hardly look at Staples' boyish face and the green eyes with that
pleading, "Don't do this" stare. From his tunic pocket, Gunther
pulled a shiny disc the size of his thumbnail.

'Take this and
guard it with your life. I want you to join the third
division.'

'I didn't
realise you hated me that much.'

Gunther pressed
the disc into Staples' hand. He was about to speak when there came
a hammering on his door which he ignored. 'I need you to deliver
this.'

More
hammering.

'Sir,' said
Staples. 'Sergeant Willis wants to get in here.'

'He can damn
well wait. I know you two are old friends, but you're the one I
trust with this, not Willis, and neither should you. Nothing
against Willis in any way, but the less people I trust to do this,
the safer I feel with this. I'm giving you one last order,
lieutenant. Deliver this. But do not reveal this order to anyone,
not even Willis.'

More
hammering.

'Any particular
reason I shouldn't trust Willis, sir?'

'Yes. I simply
don't want you trusting anyone. Join the third division. After
that, you and Willis can do whatever you want.'

In-between the
hammering, Staples tried to think. 'I think I understand, sir. But
does everything depend on the message being delivered?'

'More than you
could possibly imagine.'

'Ok. Just one
tiny detail. Who is the lucky recipient of this fine disc?'

Gunther leaned
over to whisper in Staples' ear and the surprised expression on the
lieutenant's face told the major he had hit the spot. 'Do not say
that name out-loud. Not here, not ever. Not until the disc is in
the hands of the one it is intended for. Do you understand?'

'I...I...Sir.
Are you sure?'

'Totally. You
know what you have to do, Staples. Good luck.'

Gunther yanked
hard on the vehicle's door handle, 'Nothing more to say.'

Gunther climbed
out of the Charger, slapped the puzzled sergeant on a huge
shoulder, wished him luck, walked to a safe distance and watched
the confused young men drive away.

As the cloud of
red dust billowed up from the desert floor, Gunther watched the
vehicle rumble along, he knew everything he was doing had only an
insignificant chance of working. There was nothing more he could do
but to leave it all up to any gods bothering to listen. Opening the
smallest door into the Base, Gunther stepped inside, letting the
bomb-proof door slam shut with a bang behind him. He keyed in the
code to lock the door, realising that hope dangled by a flimsy
thread.

Chapter 10

'Anything,
Anne?' Sam Clifton already knew the answer, but felt obliged to ask
regardless. Lee didn't look up at him as she continued tuning the
equipment.

'Nope. Either
we are still too far away, or, and this is my best bet, that
atmospheric storm is still blocking us out.'

'So. Right.
Which means you're doing what exactly?'

'Just because I
don't expect to achieve anything, doesn't stop me trying. You have
a problem with that?'

'Hey,' said
Clifton. 'I only asked. No need to chew my ears off.'

Lee sighed and
finally looked away from her instruments and at Clifton's face. She
had always thought he had a kind, friendly face. 'Sorry. I just
hoped...Sam. I really don't fancy our chances of attempting a
landing with that storm to get through. Do you think Jay Jay will
insist we try?'

'Only if we
have no alternatives. You know the captain. He'll not take
unnecessary chances. On the other hand, if finding out what we need
to means us landing, he'll weigh it all up and decide. Like the
Goliath, the shuttles are well built and coated in marsillium.
Practically impervious to anything.'

Lee knew that.
'It isn't the shell that bothers me. Storm fried electrical systems
concerns me a lot, though.'

Clifton
realised it wasn't any use trying to put positive spins on it.
'It's my main concern, also. And naturally I've been running
various scenarios through my mind. We have triplicate, independent
systems which I can isolate. I can shut down anything but the bare
essentials to take us through the atmosphere. If on entry we have a
problem I'll shut everything down and let us free-fall through the
storm, then once out of it I'll kick in the next systems to land
this bird. We then use that to get us back to the Goliath then if
that sustains damage, with the third system we get back to the
Goliath. Happy with that?'

'Hmm. Who are
you trying to convince, me or you?'

With a grin,
Clifton said, 'Both, with a little luck.'

'Luck isn't
what we'll need to survive that storm, and as you said, not just
once but we'll need a repeat performance.' Lee turned off her
instruments and patted the blank screen. 'Forget luck. Send out for
a couple of miracles.'

'Top of my to
do list. Anne. We've come too damn far for this to fail. That's
gotta count for something, right?'

'A philosopher
as well as an engineer. No end to your talents. Oh. Captain. You
get a good rest?'

Jacobs settled
into the co-pilot's seat. 'A couple of hours. Any luck penetrating
that storm?'

'Nothing,'
admitted Lee. 'Maybe when we get closer.'

Jacobs glanced
over at Clifton, then back at Lee. 'I'm sure that would be a great
relief to all of us. Another twenty hours and we'll find out. Have
you two eaten?'

'Yes,' said
Clifton.

Lee said, 'I'm
off to try to sleep. 'See you later.'

As Lee made her
way to the back of the shuttle, Jacobs said, 'Anne getting a little
nervous?'

'She's a
professional. She'll cope.'

Jacobs turned
his attention to the magnified image of Spero, her mysteries
completely hidden by the swirling mass of the deadly storm. 'Us
against that. Let's hope it doesn't come to it.'

Even as he said
it, Jacobs didn't believe it would work out that way.

Chapter 11

The hill gave a
panoramic view and the stunted bushes provided partial cover. Below
them and less than fifty miles away, the carnage of war was clearly
evident. Sergeant Nathan Willis broke the silence.

'We knew things
were bad, but this...'

Lieutenant
Giles Staples replied, 'And the fools are still slugging it out.
Three ships blasting at anything still standing. At least they're
our ships.'

From the ground
a laser cannon returned fire and one ship was hit, its own lasers
streaking the sky as it spun burning out of control. It smashed
into the ground, then the two remaining ships took revenge and used
their combined laser power to destroy the enemy cannon. That done,
the two ships hovered then sped away and vanished over the
horizon.

Willis said,
'Nothing left to destroy here. They're off to the front.'

'To join in the
action in the south by the look of it.'

'We'll have to
detour around this city to join up with them.'

'No,' said
Staples. 'Set a course for the east.'

A puzzled
expression crossed the sergeant's face. 'East? What's the point of
that? If we head south we can be in the fight sooner.'

'Don't argue,
sergeant. Just do it.'

Willis keyed in
the coordinates to take them around the smouldering city in an
easterly direction. 'Ok. It's no difference to me where I end up
dead. East or south it's still the same dead.'

The armoured
Charger rolled down the hill and veered off along the remains of a
highway running parallel to a river that flowed through the city.
The river was deep and wide, and in its slow flowing brown waters
several corpses were carried along it to the sea.

'They must have
dived in after being burnt by laser fire,' said Staples. 'Not a
direct hit, just enough to get the skin fried.'

'Hopefully they
drowned quickly,' said Willis, grimly. He stopped looking at the
river, concentrating on avoiding the rubble and the burnt out
vehicles littering the highway. Opportunist birds fed off the
remains of the people, one pausing to stare at the Charger, an
eyeball in its beak, bloody tendrils hanging down. The Charger's
path became blocked by a mobile laser tank, still smouldering.