The Alpha Choice (14 page)

The surprises did not stop there. The hologram expanded to fill most of his field of vision, although he could clearly see through it, to the rest of the room. As he looked at the images floating in front of him, he moved his attention, from the diagram nearest to him, to one positioned behind it. Immediately, the rearmost image repositioned itself, so that it was foremost. He tried it again, with collections of symbols and other diagrams and, on each occasion, the image he focused on came to the forefront of the hologram. He then tried something he was convinced, would not work. As the symbols were meaningless to him, Tala’s native language should also be indecipherable.
Never mind, here goes,
he thought. Looking at two disparate images at opposite edges of the hologram, he imagined them being side by side at the top of his field of vision. As the thought formed, the two images appeared, just as he wanted them. He looked at Tala, who was smiling. ‘The console recognises your thoughts, irrespective of your language. It’s capable of acting upon your instructions and, as they didn’t conflict with the safety of the ship, or its crew, enabled them.’

Hugo was speechless, almost. ‘Amazing,’ just about summed up how he felt. ‘I don't suppose it’s possible to take us somewhere in this ship?’

Without replying, Tala turned to face the only flat wall, which Immediately transformed from being completely blank, to a myriad of diagrams and symbols, some of which were changing while others remained constant. The images were superimposed over one single, vivid image encompassing the whole wall, Earth, as viewed from orbit.
 

Hugo had seen pictures and video shots taken from space, but nothing so striking. As Tala turned back to face him, he asked. ‘Is that image real?’ she nodded, and he became confused. ‘You told me you couldn't teleport outside of the hanger.’

‘We didn’t,’ came the simple reply.
 

‘Then how did we get here?’

‘We teleported onto the ship, which then moved into orbit around your planet.’

‘But, I didn't feel us move.’

‘That,’ Tala replied, ‘is simple enough to explain. The field enabling teleportation within a controlled area, also acts upon every particle of our bodies, so as to maintain a constant equilibrium between us and the movement of the ship. In this way, we can maintain integrity on the subatomic level, and can be subjected to extreme gravitational forces with no ill effects,’ she paused before adding. ‘The same field produces a localised gravitational effect.’

‘Unbelievable,’ replied Hugo, ‘but surely the field can't stretch all the way up here?’

‘It doesn’t have to. Each ship has its own field generator, which maintains inertial and gravitational constants.’

He could hardly contain his excitement, a fact that did not go unnoticed. ‘Before you get too excited, let me remind you that while both parts of the field will be given to your people, these craft will have their ability to travel beyond your solar system, severely restricted.’

The lawyer in him refused to believe that the non-negotiability she had spoken of, was an absolute, but his honed instincts also told him, this was neither the time, nor the place for that discussion.

Tala thought it an exquisite irony that the very thing the Tellurians would strive to obtain would, ultimately, be their downfall. Not that she intended leaving anything to chance, the matter would be taken out of Tellurian hands,
after all,
she reminded herself,
we have a strict timetable.
She returned her attention to the wall with its majestic image of the planet below, and without any sensation of movement, the scale of the image increased exponentially until, seconds later, the scene was now the inside of the hanger. The speed of the transition was such that it was impossible for Hugo to tell how they managed to enter the hanger, it also left him a little light headed.
 

‘We don’t usually keep such images displayed when travelling at these speeds,’ she reassured him, ‘this was purely for demonstration purposes.’

‘Consider the demonstration successful!’ To say he was impressed would have been an understatement of monumental proportions. ‘I’ll rephrase my earlier question, when do
I start?’
 

‘Immediately.’

He nodded and, instantly, they were once again standing in the barn,
I didn't see any of those posts,
he thought.
 

Looking directly at Tala he said. ‘When I return, I’ll need to tell Liz, and inform my partners of my decision to leave.’

‘You don’t expect resistance from your partners?’ she asked.

‘I’ll cushion the blow,’ he smiled softly, imagining their response. Despite his reassurances, he knew they would take it hard. The legal position was not the issue, he had become a cornerstone of the practice, in more ways than one, but his influence was about to increase to unfathomable proportions. They would never be short of lucrative work, whether by direct referral, or by attracting clients wanting to be represented by the firm associated, however tenuously, with the most powerful man in the world. He was about to become that man.

As to how they would replace him? The upturn of fee income would comfortably pay for a small army of the best negotiators and litigators. ‘They’ll be all right. I’ll use them to set up the corporation, and the detailed minutiae that goes with what we’re about to do.’ Tala said nothing. ‘After all, that isn’t why you came to me. My hands will be full, lobbying and making sure you get what you want.’

The Te’an inclined her head, and Hugo took that as tacit agreement.

Within three hours he, and his clients, although the term seemed inadequate to describe their relationship, were outside his office building. Tala and Beron remained seated as Hugo stepped out of the car. As with the outward journey, there had been no conversation.
 

Tala leaned forward and spoke through the open door. ‘You’ll find an email waiting for you. It will have attachments, including your appointment letter, and the whereabouts of your new office. Our list of requirements is comprehensive.’ Almost as an afterthought, she added. ‘Your joining fee has been credited to your bank account.’

Hugo had not anticipated any inducements, but before he had time to ask for more specifics, she simply said. ‘We’ll contact you in three days,’ and with that, she smiled at him then sat back in her seat. Beron reached beyond her, and pulled the door closed. The driver had already returned to the car, which glided away silently, leaving Hugo alone on the sidewalk to contemplate his future.

Ω

Three minutes into their journey Beron broke the silence, looking sideways at Tala. ‘Involving the woman is a mistake. We don’t know enough about her. The man’s ego guaranteed he would take the offer, this we knew. Her presence injects an unknown factor into the equation.’

There was no immediate reaction from Tala, the snub being further evidence, if needed, that she held him and his opinions in contempt. ‘I know you don’t value my opinion, but I’ll have to report the deviation from plan, to Garnoth.’

This last statement had the desired effect, Tala knew that the concession to include Black’s assistant would have to be reported, but it needed to be she who informed Garnoth, not Beron who would, undoubtedly, present the scenario in an unfavourable light. ‘Of course I’ll report back on the change, I’m sure Garnoth will see the logic of my action.’

Tala fell silent, she had no intention of explaining the rationale behind her decision.
 

To anyone else, Beron’s face remained impassive. Tala, however, knew him well enough to discern distrust of her motives, but he was powerless. As his superior, he was forced to accept her word that she would make the report. His father would have berated him for speaking too soon, but then, Vaaris should have allowed him to remain with the ST Corps, where his heart truly lay. He was not like his brother, subterfuge was not his strength, and he had always found it difficult to confront Tala, she had made it clear how she felt, long ago. Moving on was well overdue, perhaps when this mission was over.
 

Turning away, he looked out of the window, gazing in quiet fury at these creatures going about their meaningless lives. He was one of a growing sector within both the military, and the Agency who believed that where the use of force was expedient, it was unnecessary to seek justification. The old fears of three thousand years ago held few terrors for them, convinced, as they were, that a liberal political elite had probably manipulated history to suit their own ends.

He was one of an even smaller group who wondered whether the Custodians actually existed. Of course, he had never shared these thoughts with Tala, she simply would not understand. For all her talents, she was a product of her environment, incapable of thinking for herself, but he would watch and wait. She would make a mistake, and then it would be down to him to rescue the mission. Having proven himself, perhaps his father would then permit him to go where he belonged.
 

For the remainder of the journey there was no further conversation.

Δ

Hugo walked towards his office, ‘Please hold all calls, Liz, then join me in fifteen minutes.’
 

Sure enough, everything Tala had told him to expect, was in the email. The time scale they allotted was tight, to say the least. After speed-reading the documentation, he checked his bank account, eyebrows raising at the sight of the figure staring back at him. Firmly of the view that nothing, concerning money, could faze him, he had just discovered how wrong he could be.

Precisely fifteen minutes after entering his room there was a knock on the door.

Eighteen months ago

TeCorp headquarters

Δ
 

Hugo received the call he was expecting, from the President’s Chief of Staff. ‘Hugo, how are you?’ Gerry Wye asked, in an affable manner that was completely out of character.

‘Better for hearing from you, Gerry,’ was the best Hugo could muster.

‘The President was wondering whether you had made up your mind.’

This was a crude reference to the Presidential ticket, and the question on most people’s minds, or at least those who thought longer about politics than the time it took their for cereal to get soggy,
would Hugo throw his weight behind the incumbent President, Michael Conway?
Whoever he backed was a shoo-in for the office, as Gerry Wye was all too aware.

Hugo would back Conway, and Wye knew it, but it would suit him to have it announced sooner, rather than later. He had already gone as far as he dared by asking the question outright, he could not risk pressing the matter further.

The CEO of TeCorp answered by way of an aside. ‘I thought you were about to tell me, the President’s looking forward to attending the Golf Day on Wednesday, and announcing his support for our urban redevelopment program. All the boys and girls of the press will be there.’

This was code for: ‘
You and I know that the President will publicly endorse the technology, as it will be seen as yet another incredible advancement for mankind, during his watch, and in return, I’ll publicly pledge my support for his campaign
.’

The message was received, and understood. ‘The President wouldn't miss it for the world,’ and content in the knowledge that his man would remain the President of the United States, the election now being a mere formality, Wye made the appropriate meaningless noises, before ringing off.

Hugo found the President’s Chief of Staff inhabited the worst caricature of a politician: insincere, shallow and venal. While he held the man in contempt, he hoped it was heavily veiled. The President, on the other hand, was a good man, genuinely thinking only of his people and, unlike some of his predecessors, did not think the rest of the world existed to serve his needs. His philosophy was taking hold on the other world leaders, so that meetings between them, increasingly achieved more than sound bites and platitudes.

He liked Michael Conway, and was happy he would be the beacon to a future with the Te. An image formed in his mind of a suitably proud President standing before TV cameras, telling the world it stood at the threshold of hitherto undreamed of advancement, and fulfilment. Gerry Wye lurked in the shadows, almost comically looking around, as he schemed to make his boss the first President of the World! Hugo shook his head, stopping his banal train of thought dead in its tracks.
 

Swivelling round in his chair he looked out of his office window, thirty floors above ground, with another sixty levels below that, and pondered the last eighteen months. As expected, the rise of TeCorp had been monumental. Liz had taken to the change with an enthusiasm he, at times, found dizzying, she had even supervised the building of their headquarters, ensuring that the authorities were steered clear of anything hinting at the pre-existing underground structures. Even that part of the building did not escape her attention, as she insisted upon redevelopment to incorporate Tellurian involvement.

All of the major airlines had succumbed to the new anti-grav drive and, within another eighteen months, there would be very few, if any non anti-grav flights.
 

None of the world’s major governments attempted to exercise any control over the transition. In the absence of any test results proving the technology to be safe, at least to their satisfaction, a couple of European countries made an initial effort to restrict the use of the craft in their airspace. When it dawned on them that they stood alone, a rapid re-evaluation took place, and more pragmatic counsel prevailed. Protectionism might also have raised its head, but for Hugo ensuring that affected companies were bought out, on very generous terms, with all employees being re-employed by TeCorp.