Authors: Anne McCaffrey
“Admiral Coetzer’s already on his way up to the hub,” Johnny Greene said by way of reassurance.
You could
read
her?
Rhyssa exclaimed.
How could you? She’s wearing a metal skullcap
.
“If she is, it isn’t very good,” Peter said in a low voice, glancing nervously in the direction Barchenka had gone.
She’s going to take over the Station again. She’s the only one she will allow to manage it. She’s going to make us pay!
Peter added.
You most of all, Johnny
.
“What isn’t very good?” asked Dave, noting the tension in Peter’s slender body.
Rhyssa quietly explained the gist of the exchanges. Dave’s eyes widened in alarm and he, too, looked around the crowd to spot Barchenka’s current position.
“How could she do that?” Dave asked Johnny.
“She hasn’t got enough clout left with those necessary to confirm such an assignment, even if the Space Authority was insane enough to let her,” Havers said, troubled.
What else did you sense, Peter?
Johnny Greene asked, rocking back and forth on his heels, his jaw muscles tightening in dismay.
No one else has ever read her
, Rhyssa repeated.
I think it was her whacking me like that
. Peter lifted one arm to his ribs. He hadn’t felt the blow, only reacted to the momentum of her thrust.
The physical connection and she’s so angry, she isn’t holding anything back. I think she’s after Admiral Coetzer, too. That’s what she’s gone to do now
. He turned his upper body around, looking in the direction Barchenka had gone.
Oh, there you are!
All three telepaths winced as Madlyn Luvaro’s powerful voice assaulted their minds.
Ooops. Sorry
.
The telepaths glanced around, not immediately spotting Madlyn. Then the pretty, dark brunette in an elegant red dress suit stepped out of the throng. She was smiling, nodding politely to those she passed but there was a definite, noticeable tension to her body and a tightness to her smile.
“Hello, there, Rhyssa, Peter, General Johnny. How great to see you here,” she said aloud.
There’s one goddawful rumor just starting the rounds in the workers’ level: that Barchenka’s going to be made Manager again
. As she bowed politely to everyone in the cluster, she continued.
The rumor is that she’d end up her speech by telling you all that she’s taking over the Station
. Her smile was fixed. She had modulated her extremely strong telepathic voice to a mere whisper, a scared mental whisper. Now her eyes begged Rhyssa to reassure her.
How
can
she? When she came storming in here from the ceremony
, and Madlyn gestured around the refreshment area,
she was jerking her hands around at her white-coats and telling them that the plan would proceed
. They
moved out on the double. With that skullcap of hers, I couldn’t read anything from her and those muscle men can’t think with the front of their brains so she
has
been planning something all along
.
“Can I bum a ride back down with you, General?” she said aloud, tilting her head coquettishly at Johnny, but her eyes were clouded with anxiety.
Rhyssa said in a conversational tone, “Are you all packed, Madlyn?”
“Yessum,” and the telepath nodded, more like a teenager than the confident executive she had become during her stint on the Station.
“I think I’ll just see how Grushkov is doing,” Johnny Greene said with a wickedly raised eyebrow.
Stay here
.
He wended his way into the crowd.
You don’t think there’s any chance she could get her way?
Madlyn asked warily, pretending to admire Peter’s smartly tailored outfit. “I almost didn’t recognize you, you’re so smart.”
“Tirla took me shopping.”
“She’s got excellent taste.”
How does she think she can oust Admiral Coetzer? The World Council officially appointed him. He’s such a nice guy. So calm. He impressed me when he toured the grunt levels and talked to all of them. Even descended to the offie levels. Never even wrinkled his nose at the pong down there
, Madlyn said.
Neither did Igor Koryakin, who’s the new Maintenance Supervisor. How can they possibly turn the Station back over to
her?
It just has to be wishful thinking on Barchenka’s part
, Rhyssa said.
Peter was very uncertain now. Could he have imagined the vivid sequences he’d seen in Barchenka’s mind … like very fast-forward scenes … almost as if she were going over the plans in her mind? They couldn’t have been precogs because Barchenka hadn’t a vestige of psychic ability! He looked around warily. There weren’t that many of her white-coated muscles in this area. He reviewed the brief glimpse of the very satisfied expression on her face, echoing her mental attitude. Then there was a sudden stir as the rank of doors beyond the refreshment area burst open, like one of the glimpses he’d had, and platoons of white-coated men and women strode purposefully in, spreading out.
Peter carefully levitated himself enough to see over nearby heads.
I don’t like the feel of this
.
At the exact same moment, Johnny Greene broadcast,
The admiral’s run into a bad snag. His telepathic aide, Shandin Ross, is with him. They can’t get the lift to work to the Control Intelligence Center level
.
Ground yourself, Peter
, Rhyssa said, pulling him back down to the floor.
She’s locked Coetzer out!
Johnny said angrily.
Coetzer’s supposed to have the command codes. She’s locked him out
.
Johnny, can’t we
do
something?
Peter replied anxiously.
“What?” Madlyn Luvaro demanded, and put her hand to her lips.
The lifts aren’t responding, even to his emergency codes
, Johnny said, his mental tone both angry and anxious.
I’m reading Admiral Coetzer’s mind. He’s so furious right now he’s dead easy to read. He’s coming back here
.
I’ve got to get closer to Barchenka
, Peter announced.
Before Rhyssa could protest or caution him, Peter was gone from her side.
“No one will notice,” Dave said, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
“You did.”
“I was watching him. Everyone else is watching Barchenka’s guards,” Dave said. “Can’t we do something? Anything? Are there enough strong Talents to just inactivate her?”
“Not with her metal skullcap,” Johnny Greene replied telepathically as well as out loud.
Although, Peter? Peter, where’s he got to?
he added, his tone agitated.
Madlyn, have you any idea how many goons she has? Where has she positioned them? Oh!
Johnny’s voice was silent for three beats.
Really? Pete, how’d you do that?
Johnny’s astonishment was so intense that all the ’paths caught it.
My God, he’s great
, Madlyn Luvaro’s voice was so strong, Rhyssa thought she had spoken out loud.
Yes, that’s what I saw in her mind
, Peter answered, and shot Johnny, as well as the other psychics, the visuals he had seen passing through her public mind.
Her strategy
.
That’ll certainly help
, Havers remarked, his lanky body relaxing.
What now, Johnny?
Just be ready to take control when we can
, Johnny replied.
She’s been too busy with her planning to watch her back
. And there was a note of distinct satisfaction in his tone.
Those mysterious teams of yours?
Rhyssa asked.
What teams?
Both Madlyn and Gordon Havers wanted to know.
“How could she lock the admiral out of the command zone?” Dave murmured, not being privy to the lightning telepathed exchanges. “She formally handed over the passwords and encryption codes when the watch changed at dawn. Coetzer’s staff has been installed since six
A.M
. Station
time. Why don’t …” he continued, breaking off when there was a sudden rearrangement of the crowd as someone barged forward: Barchenka. She had a voice wand in her hand.
“HEAR THIS!” The volume on her wand was deafening, instantly producing the silence she wanted from the now agitated audience. “I AM RESUMING THE MANAGEMENT OF THIS STATION. THERE IS AN INSURRECTION ON THE LOWER LEVELS.”
That’s a fat lie!
Madlyn said.
“BE CALM! I WILL SAVE YOU. THE ADMIRAL YOU APPOINTED IS USELESS IN THIS EMERGENCY. HE DOESN’T KNOW THE STATION AS I DO.”
“Because, Madam,” and the admiral appeared on cue in one open door, his aides spreading out on either side of him, hands on the holsters of their dart guns. He had an on-deck voice that could be heard without amplification. “You have tampered with the main control systems. I am the officially appointed Station Manager.”
“I SHOULD BE. I WILL BE.” Barchenka’s wild gestures had opened a path between her and the admiral. He advanced to confront her. “NO ONE KNOWS THIS STATION AS DO I, WHO HAS PUT EVERY RIVET AND GIRDER IN IT. YOU SHALL NEVER RUN IT WITHOUT ME. I WAS GOING TO EXPLAIN HOW MUCH YOU NEEDED ME BUT SOMEONE CORRUPTED MY SPEECH DISK.” Her eyes were bulging, her face suffused with blood, the cords in her neck visible with her tension.
The admiral came to an abrupt halt, shaking his head in outrage at her ranting as Rhyssa, desperate to offer such help as her people had available, reached into his opened mind. She was startled to hear Peter’s voice already there.
Mention password, Admiral. Ask her about the password
.
The admiral gave his head one more shake, eyes sliding quickly to Johnny Greene, whom he knew to be a Talent. He took another step forward, just as a thin arm in blue reached out of those near Barchenka and touched her shoulder.
“You’ve changed the password, have you, Barchenka?” The admiral said and, with an effort the Talents caught, gave her an amused smile. “That’s why the systems won’t respond. You’ve overridden the codes you only just gave me.”
“I HAVE CHANGED ALL. SPECIAL PROGRAM ONLY I CAN OPERATE,” she cried dramatically, thumping her chest with her free hand.
“NO ONE ELSE WILL EVER RUN PADRUGOI SPACE STATION BUT ME!”
Shelkoonchik?
What does that mean?
Peter asked.
Sounds Russian with that ‘chik’ at the end of it. Madlyn, are there any Russian speakers on the Station?
Hundreds down in the grunt and offie levels
.
No, no, someone in a command position
.
Johnny Greene’s amused voice answered.
Yes, the Maintenance Supervisor, Koryakin. He’s still trying to get the lift to work
.
Koryakin!
All three ’pathed the name at once. Their effort was met with silence.
He only receives, guys
, Madlyn added in a droll tone.
Koryakin, the password has been changed to
shelkoonchik, Peter said, his mental tone so intense that even Madlyn winced.
Did he hear that?
Rhyssa asked.
Every receiving telepath on the Station heard that
, Johnny Greene said, imaging himself tenderly touching his ear hole.
The admiral had come within inches of Barchenka now, almost a stroll of an approach. Certainly he did not act either cowed or subservient as he stopped just short of the semicircle of her white-coated guards.
“As the duly appointed Manager of Padrugoi, I must inform you that your deliberate attempt to undermine my authority can be considered an act of mutiny.”
“MUTINY?” She threw back her head and howled with laughter. “When you can control nothing of this Station and all these—” She swung her arm to indicate the prestigious and important government officials in the stunned assembly. “Are hostages. Guests,” she amended, “my guests until MY appointment is irrevocably confirmed.”
That provoked angry denials and restlessness from an audience that included every world leader who had wished to attend the Inauguration of the Space Station, which their own security guards had cleared as “absolutely safe.” From several directions, angry men and women charged her position. And aborted their charge when her white-coats produced illegal heat-guns and let off bursts of energy, searing the attackers. Their cries of dismay ended abruptly as Barchenka’s forces swung their weapons from one side of the crowd to the other. The wounded were eased back, out of sight.
Is anyone badly hurt?
Rhyssa asked on a broad band that would reach anyone in the crowd with minimal Talent.
No, ma’am. The ones I can see just got a warning crease. But that means those white-coats know how to shoot
. Rhyssa couldn’t recognize the speaker’s mental tone: whoever he was, he was “shouting” to be heard at all. Anger had probably given him more range than normal.
“You want to get back to Earth?” Barchenka was saying now, her smile malicious. “Obey me. Any further display of insurrection,” and her broad smile dared a response as her eyes swept the subdued crowd, “and my troops will see how fire-resistant your fancy outfits really are. I’ll space ANYone who defies me. I, Ludmilla Barchenka, who MADE this Station, I am in complete control.”
In the stunned silence that now held the assembled, the little bleep was all the more audible.
“Are you?” asked the admiral gently, his manner relaxed.
“What was that?” Ludmilla launched herself angrily at him and gestured for two of her guards to cover him. The admiral didn’t resist when she wrenched off his wristcom and, dropping it to the floor, stamped on it, kicking it away from her when she couldn’t break the impact-resistant case.
“You will be first to breathe space, Coetzer,” she said, shaking her fist at him. Then she spoke into her own wrist unit. “Yellow Team, to the reception area. You’ll see, Coetzer. You’ll be
admiral,
” and she snarled the rank in a contemptuous voice, “of deep space. And that,” she waved her arm to include the audience, “will be the fate of all who defy me.” Then she stopped, peering into the crowd, searching avidly.
Who’s she looking for?
Madlyn said, trying to shelter herself behind Dave’s large frame.
Me
, said Johnny Greene blithely,
but she won’t find me. Watch out, Havers. She knows you by sight, too. Are you far enough back in the crowd, Rhyssa? She’ll also come after you
.