New Title 1 (56 page)

Which only left the matter of Emil Vasqual.

Roy had left on the camera that monitored the passenger bay, and had watched his charges as they ascended. Although a few of them had gone noticeably white from the rougher-than-usual flight (the
Makalu
was not, and would never be, a passenger liner), no one seemed to have any seriously adverse reactions to the flight so far. And Vasqual had been still and quiet since he sat down. Roy worried that whatever he intended to do could possibly—probably—be triggered from his seat, without any of the noticeable actions they had been warned to expect… but he couldn’t think of anything to do about that, without some reliable way of subduing him before he could react. No, he’d have to trust that, if Vasqual did not know he was already suspect, he would not do something overt enough to be recognized… hopefully before it was too late.

Outside the
Makalu
, Hunter and Goldie were slowly closing the distance between them and the freighter, as they entered open space, in preparation for the translation to Mars. Hunter had watched his monitors closely, searching for any sign of unexpected escorts, ballistics, odd com signals, or signs that something on the
Makalu
might have been experiencing unexpected faults or issues. So far, though, he had seen nothing.

But as he approached the starboard side of the freighter, his eyes were drawn to the outboard pods that always dotted a ship of this type. A few of them had suffered from the scouring they were subjected to by the ash clouds during their ascent. Some of them looked only pitted, but a few of them looked as if they may have either been seriously degraded, or failed entirely. And he was particularly drawn to one pod that stood out even more than the rest, a sensor pod whose skin had suffered deep discoloration during the trip.

“How’s everything looking, partner?”
came Goldie’s voice over the com.

“Excellent,” Hunter stated. Then he switched his com to an encrypted frequency, and waited.

A moment later, Goldie’s voice came over the new frequency.
“What’s up?”

“I’m looking at one of the pods over here,” Hunter replied. “Didn’t the Arsenal boys rebuild a pod on the starboard side?”

“Yeah, a sensor pod,”
Goldie confirmed. “
That must be what you’re looking at. What’s it doing?”

“Nothing,” Hunter stated. “It’s just that its skin coating is so discolored from the trip up that it sticks out like a sore thumb.”

“Did you scan it?”
Goldie asked.

“Doing that now,” Hunter said. “Reads as normal.”

“Don’t worry about it,”
Goldie said.
“They probably had to use a pod they had around for the rebuild. You’d expect them to have different skin coloration than the freighter, especially if it’s a different alloy.”

“I suppose,” Hunter said. But he continued to stare at the pod. There was something about the wear that wasn’t sitting right with him.

“They’re sending the probe in five,”
Goldie com’d to him.
“Move into translation position.”

“Roger,” Hunter replied. He edged his Wasp close to the hull of the
Makalu
… then adjusted his position, moving it back a few meters, and down a few more. From that position, he could see the sensor pod above and in front of him, and he continued to watch it carefully.

He carefully considered the existence of the pod: What could it be there for? Was it an explosive? That was highly possible, and chillingly effective, as it would be almost impossible to disarm while it was outside the freighter. But what would trigger it? The Verdant drive’s process didn’t seem to leave any sign of its operation, and the Americans didn’t know anything about how it worked… so he didn’t think it would be triggered by the jump. Suppose someone inside the ship had been gotten to, and planned to manually trigger the bomb? But if they were aboard, the explosion would kill them, too. More likely, if someone on board was able to trigger it, it would be a last-resort… so possibly a ploy to blackmail Verdant into revealing the secrets of the drive, or just to force them to surrender and return home.

But the
Makalu
was just one ship. Even if the worst happened, and the ship was destroyed, Verdant would still be there. And whatever was in that pod, it couldn’t be large enough to destroy the freighter and Verdant.

No: What the Americans wanted was Verdant back. So there was little point in threatening the freighter, when they needed a threat against the satellite. And you couldn’t threaten the satellite from inside the freighter. So the pod was intended for an attack against Verdant.

And if it was going to attack Verdant… there was only one thing it could be.

~

“We’re ready to send the probe,” one of the technicians told Valeria. She and another technician, Weld, had been conversing over one of the workstations and they both looked up when Valeria was addressed.

“Okay,” Valeria nodded, noting the time was sixteen-twenty-five. She picked up her datapad and handed it to Weld. “Done?”

“All done,” Weld replied, and made a few final settings on the workstation. Then he nodded, heading off for another station.

Once he was gone, Valeria opened an intercom channel to the bridge. “Bridge, this is Valeria.”

“Go ahead, Valeria,”
Roy responded.

“We’re sending out the probe,” she said, glancing around the bay at the techs, working at their stations around the quantum system. Everyone who saw her look nodded back, including Weld, who was busy over a workstation in the corner. “Keep us on-station, and sit tight while we check our route.”

“Understood,”
Roy replied.

Valeria closed the connection and started the sequence that would deploy the probe. At the spine airlock, the door was opening, and the mechanical arm was moving upward, bearing the probe to its deployment position. It took about a minute for the arm to reach its position, release the probe, and retract the arm. Valeria watched the outboard camera trained on the probe, waiting for its signal to go.

Valeria visually confirmed her settings one last time, and sent the “go” signal. A second later, the probe was no longer there.

~

Julian looked at the clock on the wall. “A bit overdue,” he commented indirectly. “Hope they’re not having problems.”

“Could the impostor have disabled the freighter?” Aaron asked. “Maybe they’re unable to get back.”

“Why would he do that?” Calvin croaked testily. His voice sounded so torn apart, Julian was almost sorry he’d asked him to come. “The Americans want Verdant back. If he’s going to try something, he’s not going to do it there… he’s going to do it here.”

“Yes, but—”

“Ceo, I have a signal!” One of the staffers exulted, her hands flying over her workstation. “It’s the probe!”

“Location,” Julian barked, heading toward the workstation.

“It’s five kilometers off, bearing three-twenty,” she said, examining the data that was coming in. “It’s scanning its own location, now…” Abruptly, the staffer’s smile faded, to be replaced by a look of confusion.

“May, what is it?” Reya asked from across the room.

“There’s another signal,” the staffer said.

“From the probe?”

“Yes, but… but I don’t…”

“Record it!” Dr. Silver said at once. Everyone looked at her. She, in turn, turned to Julian and said, “If they wanted to send us a quick message, what better way—”

“Then on the probe… of course!” Julian motioned for her, and Calvin, to join him at a com workstation. “Send it here!”

They converged on the workstation, where the staffer seated there was suddenly crowded by the senior staffers. “Um… I’m getting it. It’s in a standard encryption, hang on.” He tapped at his workstation, and a moment later, a brief message appeared on his screen:

Probe returns in five. Then wait ten minutes.

Following the message was a long series of numbers. Reya saw the numbers scrolling by, and winced. “Something went wrong. The rest of the message is garbled.”

But Dr. Silver smiled. “No it isn’t… is it, Dr. Rios?”

Everyone realized that Calvin was staring intently at the screen. For a moment, he didn’t respond, and Julian was about to prod him for a comment, when Calvin abruptly stabbed his finger at the screen. “A translation equation! Val’s sending us a new translation!”

“Are you sure?” Julian asked.

“Of course, I’m sure,” Calvin snapped. “I’ve only been working on them with her, haven’t I?” He gestured to a string, and said, “I recognize this sequence here, in fact. It’s…” but instead of finishing, his finger pulled back, and his voice trailed off.

In the meantime, Reya asked, “What does it mean? Do they want us to jump somewhere?”

“They must,” Kris said. “They must believe we will be at risk when they arrive.”

“Well,” Aaron suggested, “maybe we should jump now.”

“No,” Julian said, studying the message. “They told us when they will arrive. They want us to wait for them.”

“Is that wise?” Aaron asked. “They didn’t say what will happen.”

“We’re going to have to trust their judgment,” Julian stated. He turned to Calvin and Dr. Silver. “Doctors, you have less than fifteen minutes to program that jump into the drive.”

“We’re on our way,” Dr. Silver said, taking Calvin’s arm. “Come on, let’s go!” She half-dragged Calvin out of CnC, until he finally found his stride, and they ran together down the corridor, heading for the science floors. In their hurry, they almost ran into two security guards and others in the hallway.

One staffer they brushed past was apparently so intent on her task that she was knocked flailing into the wall outside of CnC, and almost toppled over. She caught herself against the wall with one hand, and seemed to take a moment to steady herself.

One of the jostled guards had seen the woman get blindsided by the scientists, and he straightened himself up and headed over to her. As he approached, the woman’s head lowered, as if she was having trouble catching her breath. “Are you okay, ma’am?” the guard asked, bending down so as to get a closer look at her, and make sure she was all right.

The guard was so intent on getting a look at the woman’s downturned face that he failed to notice that the Verdant staff jacket she wore seemed much too large for her. The jacket hung about her like a cloak, and the hand that was supporting her against the wall was almost lost in a too-long sleeve.

Abruptly the woman straightened up. Her other hand came up from behind her, where it had been attempting to pull the loose folds of the jacket back, and swung upward. The butt of the regulation sidearm in her hand connected with the officer’s jaw, and he fell like a sack of bricks.

“Gun!”

Col. Emily Stearns did not dwell over the felled security man. The other officer had called out his warning first, without hesitation, which frankly surprised her. And he was already moving for the wall panel that would close the security doors to CnC… but he had been knocked out of station by Dr. Silver and Dr. Rios, and found he had to take a few steps to get back to the panel. And as he was moving, he was forced to aim and fire his sidearm one-handed. He got off two rounds, but his shots went wide. Stearns braced herself against the wall, brought her sidearm up and fired twice, and the officer fell before he reached the panel.

Unexpectedly, however, the doors to CnC began to close on their own. Simultaneously, the voice of the GLIS boomed throughout CnC and the adjoining corridor: “Security alert! Take cover! Security Alert! Take cover!”

Stearns was taken aback by this, but only for a moment, before she started to move. She entered CnC at a run and just slipped through the closing doors, keeping her sidearm in her extended hands, and taking quick stock of the situation: Everyone had heard the officer’s shout, then the shots fired out in the corridor; staffers were yelling or screaming in alarm, and everyone was seeking cover.

She didn’t notice Reya Luis, who was rushing in a low crouch behind the workstations to her right. Reya dashed at amazing speed between the workstation rows, angling for the closest of the workstations to Stearns, whereupon she turned, bolted out and came at Stearns laterally.

Stearns, oblivious to Reya’s presence, did see Ceo Julian Lenz, standing beyond the display column at the central workstation. He was the only one in the room who was still standing, seemingly too stunned to move.

She leveled her gun at Julian.
“Traitor!”
she screamed, and emptied the clip.

When the probe returned, in exactly the position it had been in when it left, Valeria activated the arm to snag it and bring it back in. Then she activated the ship’s intercom, intentionally hitting the shipwide channel. “The probe is returned. We’ll check its data, and expect to jump in ten minutes.”

She closed the com, and waited as the probe began to sync its systems to the workstation and download its data. Valeria was instantly glad to see that the probe had, in fact, returned to Mars as intended, and its location was far enough from Verdant to make for a comfortable cushion between them.

However, she was less than happy to see that there was no message from Verdant. She’d hoped that programming the probe to stay on station for five minutes would be enough time for them to respond to the coded message she’d sent to them. Had they missed the message? Did they get the equation for the second translation that she’d sent to them? If not, they might be sitting ducks if Vasqual tried something after translation. Unfortunately, the lack of a return message left her completely in the dark. “Dammit…”

“What?” Valeria looked up, and Weld was at her side. “Did they get the message?”

“I don’t know… they didn’t respond!”

Weld’s eyes rotated through fear, concern, then calculation. “Well… if we resend it the second we get back—”

“They need time to program it in,” Valeria shook her head. “We don’t know how much time we’re going to have.”

Weld sighed heavily. “What do we do?”

Valeria considered their options. Finally, she said, “We jump to Mars in seven minutes. Get ready to load that second program in, the second we translate. If we have to, we’ll jump away from Verdant when we know something’s going to happen.”