Boundary 2: Threshold (19 page)

Now, however, he had to have a long talk with Mr. Fitzgerald. There might very well be complications when the time came to leave, and he had to be ready to deal with them all.

"Looks like the
Odin
is really getting ready to move out," Jackie said, sounding disappointed. She stared at the image of the huge E.U. ship in the Ares common-room monitor.

"Yes," Maddie said. "Why, I wonder?"

Jackie glanced sharply at her. "What's bothering you? After all the shadowboxing you've been doing trying to keep our guests from finding out anything, I'd think you'd be glad they were going."

Maddie couldn't help frowning. "It just doesn't make sense to me. The cost of sending
Odin
out here is . . . Well, it's actually rather hard to determine, but many millions of dollars, maybe orders of magnitude more than that. They could have had
Odin
doing a lot of other things that would have been potentially profitable, or at least a lot less of an apparent loss."

Bruce sat up a little straighter. "So what's your take, then?"

The former HIA agent shook her head. Being unable to answer Bruce's question in a clear, direct fashion was frustrating and upsetting. "I don't know, Bruce. Instinct tells me there's something wrong here. And I didn't survive some of the things I have by having bad instincts. My evaluation has always been that they came here to see if they could find out something that would give the E.U. a leg up. It only makes sense, given that the IRI and Ares have so far kept in the forefront, with the United States getting the main benefits after that. But . . . 

"I know that Fitzgerald's managed to get a handle on what we've been doing in the fusion research—enough that I expected they'd try to suborn our systems or some of our people and send the data onward. With the resources of the E.U., they'd be easily able to develop the Bemmie system to practical deployment far faster than we can, and according to you"—she nodded at Jackie—"and Dr. Vasquez, it's not so far from our own theoretical knowledge that the E.U. couldn't make a good case for having just come up with it independently after the discovery of the Bemmie superconductor, which shook up a lot of theoretical constructs anyway."

"But you made sure they couldn't do that, right?"

Maddie rose and drifted restlessly around the break room. Joe, as usual, was absent because he, Reynolds, and A.J. were still working on the dusty-plasma vessel and, in Joe's opinion, were close to making it work. "I actually made sure that they thought they
could
do it. And I'm about ninety-nine percent sure that Fitzgerald bought that line, but he ended up not taking the bait. Oh, I'd have shut them down and kicked them out when they tried." She shook her head and gave a faint chuckle. "Maybe I'm just a little full of myself. Richard Fitzgerald might just be smart enough that he saw the trap. I don't think he is, but maybe."

Jackie didn't look very happy. "You think all of them are here to, well, do industrial espionage? Really?"

Madeline laughed. "No, no, not all of them. Well, yes, in that I'm sure they were all told to keep their eyes open, but there's a big difference between that and actually stealing secured data. Your boyfriend is probably just fine."

Jackie blushed slightly—something barely visible with her dark skin. "Horst Eberhart is not my boyfriend. We went on exactly two dates—if you can even call them 'dates' in the first place. I barely know the man." After two or three seconds, she added a bit plaintively: "Only probably?"

"Only probably," Maddie said. "But that's from my paranoid worldview, remember. I get paid to assume everyone's up to something."

"So," Bruce said, "If I'm understanding you right, the problem is that you don't think these bastards got anything, so you're wondering why they're leaving?"

"Something like that."

"They couldn't have just decided you had things locked down too well and, after a while, it's not worth it?"

"Maybe." Maddie restrained the impulse to stomp her foot, which would have caused her to bounce off the ceiling. "But that just feels wrong. They're heading back to Earth. Why? Just to drop off people? No special cargo?" She hated feeling this uncertain. It was something so rare for her that it was unsettling. "Or are they even smarter than I thought? Did they get past all our security, including me, and so what they're doing is leaving
with
their prize?"

"Maddie, luv, you're the best there is. The only way they're getting away with something is if you didn't know there was something to find."

She froze. Her mind flew back, fitting together the dozens of pieces of the puzzle she'd encountered in the past year and a half.

Maddie turned and propelled herself toward the exit, bringing up her own VRD displays. "Bruce, I think you may be exactly right."

Control. Losing control will do me no good.
The general took a deep breath. "Exactly what do you mean by 'insurance,' Mr. Fitzgerald?"

The security chief smiled. "The kind you didn't need to know about, General. It's my job, not yours. Plausible deniability and all that."

"I doubt very much if 'plausible deniability' is all that plausible here in the asteroid belt," said Hohenheim, his teeth almost clenched.

Fitzgerald shrugged. "Probably not plausible to the Ares people, sure. But that's hardly what matters, is it? What matters is simply what people think back on Earth. And for those purposes, we should be fine. I chose the right sort of men for this little jaunt."

Hohenheim suspected that his notion of "the right sort of men" and Fitzgerald's were kilometers apart. But . . . 

He took a deep breath. What was done, was done. And he was the one who had set this all into motion in the first place, he reminded himself sharply.

"We are not . . . attacking them, I trust? Because that is directly contrary to our directives."

"Not attacking, no," Fitzgerald answered. "Just . . . making sure they can't do anything to stop us until it's too late. Which was what you wanted, right?"

Hohenheim reviewed their prior conversations. Unfortunately, he had said things which could, in their essence, be read that way by someone seeking to push the envelope. And Fitzgerald was nothing if not an envelope-pusher. He'd have to remember that in the future.

"What exactly is going to happen, then?"

"It's standard CCC technique, General—chaos, confusion, catastrophe. Very light on the catastrophe, of course. Modofori, Salczyck and Zaent are going for the fusion data, just the way I was going to have us do it before, except they think they're doing it as a sort of private side-gig for me. Personal profit, you know, with everyone getting a little cut."

"And you've actually framed them?"

"That's really such a cold word, General. If they don't get caught, they'll be rich men. And the paper trail—electronic trail, rather—doesn't even lead to me, let alone the E.U." He smiled cynically. "Of course, my guess is that little Goldilocks has so many tripwires and traps on that data that the first poor bastard who puts a hand on it is going to lose the hand. Figuratively speaking, at least. But that'll be enough to keep them distracted while we're leaving."

"Leaving our three crewmen behind?"

Fitzgerald nodded. "If that's the way it works out, yes. Their cover is that they're bringing the last of our own stuff back up in the
Hunin
. We're just doing maneuvers to get out of orbit, ready to do a main burn, far away from
Nobel
, right? So when they finally do make their break, we just let the IRI grab 'em. Sure, they'll guess that we were trying something cute, but they'll have no proof, and the neat part is that what we were
really
after they won't have a clue about."

"But when we start moving . . . You do understand that
Nobel
could catch us early on?"

"Right. It's smaller, they don't have nearly the load we do, they could catch us easy over the short haul, even if we can outdo anything else in the system on the long. So I've got something else set to make sure
Nobel
can't chase us."

"What?"

"Better you don't know. I think it's all covered, but the less you know, the less you can be accused of. Stop
worrying
, General. No one's supposed to get killed on this jaunt, and I'm not forgetting that. But giving them enough problems to keep them at home, that's not out of the mission parameters, now, is it?"

"I . . . suppose not," the general said slowly.

"Then I'd better get going. We're leaving in just a few hours, right?" Fitzgerald snapped a quick salute and disappeared out the door.

The commander of the
Odin
stared at the door, a rising sourness in his stomach. Fitzgerald was too eager, too capable in certain areas and too blind in others. Hohenheim shook his head, unable to fight the growing conviction that things were moving out of his control.

Too late now. Whatever Fitzgerald had planned, at least some of it was beyond any ability to recall. Time to play the hand he was holding. He headed for the bridge.

Joe drifted in the long, dreamlike strides Ceres permitted, a cross between floating and walking that had taken some considerable getting used to. Usually, you had to guide yourself in mid-trajectory to some extent, because Ceres' puny gravity simply didn't get you back to the floor quick enough. But it wasn't quite puny enough to pretty much ignore. "Jackie, you're sure we have enough capacity for this?"

Jackie's voice over the link was amused.
"Joe, for the third time, yes. Do you think I'd have authorized it if we didn't? I'm just busy up here getting
Nobel
prepped. You've been around the power-distribution stuff enough to handle the install, haven't you?"

"Oh, sure, that's not a problem. The setup's modular. I just know we've been using a lot more power lately, what with the research and our guests and all."

"Well, most of our guests are gone. All but three, I think, and they're getting ready to leave soon. By the time you have the new main connection set and we can lay down the cable to the project, we'll have megawatts to spare. And if it does work, then we'll have enough reason to get another reactor out here."

"Okay. I'll stop bothering you, then." Joe continued along, knowing better than to hurry. In low gravity, hurrying just turned you into a pinball. But part of him still
wanted
to hurry. Setting up a major new power line was necessary so that they could test the repairs they'd made to the alien vessel.

After what was only about five minutes, but seemed like half an hour to Joe, he reached the control room for the reactor. The main power-connection modules were set on the far side of the room. Fortunately, setting up a megawatt-capable connection was a lot easier now than it might have been thirty years ago, but he still had considerable work to do, and even following the procedures being projected for him in his own VRD it would take a little while. Obviously you didn't want to interrupt power to the whole base, so he had to arrange a cutout, install the new connection, then remove the cutout, without interfering with other operations.

This would only allow a partial test, of course. To run the ship—if it actually worked, something even A.J. stopped short of asserting as pure fact—would require most of the output of a reactor the size of this one, and of course it would have to be installed on board. But the important test was to see if, in fact, all the work they'd done would permit them to generate the necessary field in vacuum to hold the "dusty plasma" in place.

"How's it coming, Joe?"
A.J.'s voice sounded in his ears.

"Not bad. Another half hour, I guess. By the way, we still need to figure out a good way to mop sweat out of people's eyes in these things."

"Yeah, I suppose so. I try to avoid all that sweating, myself."

Joe laughed. "You can't really fool us with that lazy-bum act, you know."

"It's the image. You know that's . . . Hey, what the . . . ?"

"What's up, A.J.?"

"One of Maddie's trip wires just went. Gotta go."

"Really? Okay, later, then." Joe went back to work. There wasn't much he could do in this case, and besides, as both Maddie and A.J. had been gleefully happy to point out in security discussions, there really wasn't anywhere anyone could run.

Well, not for long, anyway. There were miles and miles of Bemmie tunnels, rooms, and so on, only a fraction of them explored so far. But those were all in vacuum, so even if you had a shelter you could only last a short time. And in the open, well, you were obvious. Radiating heat energy like a beacon.

Them trying to get away with something
now
, that was a surprise. With the
Odin
pulling out in a matter of hours, already doing maneuvers to be ready to do a safe burn, who'd be stupid enough to try something?

At that moment, God brought a sledgehammer down on top of Joe Buckley.

"The fusion data?" Maddie asked, forehead wrinkled. "That makes no sense at all. Doing it
now
? When they were about to leave?" She glanced up at another portion of the VRD display, away from A.J.'s face and toward a data section. "Unless . . . There are only three members of
Odin
's crew still here, on a last trip to retrieve material. If they're working solo . . ."

"You seemed to be surprised about what they were getting. Why's that?" A.J. could ask that in person now, as he had just come around the corner to the central monitoring area. "I got the impression you were about to call me anyway."

"I've found some possible indications that someone might have been tampering with our Bemmius data files, most likely in the astronomical data section. Which makes more sense to me."

A.J. nodded. "Well, you show me the traces, and I'll see if I can verify. Meanwhile you can track down our free-enterprise burglars."

Maddie nodded and sent her gathered data to A.J. He'd been correct that she had literally been moments from contacting him before the alert went off.

A subliminal shudder whipped through the room like a whisper of disaster. The lights flickered and went out, then backup, dimmer LED lighting came on. All her monitors blanked, but not before she had seen something to truly worry her. "What was
that
?"