Confluence Point (3 page)

[Thirty minutes, and they did want to eat; I suggest they go straight to the mess . . .]

Hilary, ever helpful, burst in to the conversation. [I'll organize something for them Ham, leave it to me. And Regan
-
there is a matter to deal with regarding the American shuttles.]

[Exotic matter I suppose?] Regan strode on smiling inwardly.

[How did you guess?]

[It had to happen, what do you have in mind Hilary?]

[The President wants to talk to you; I can set up a meeting for early this afternoon?]

[Do it, and thank you. Your plans for the park are stunning
-
I love them.]

[I hoped you would, and it will be such a help to the general stress levels here. The park might seem big now but once we develop the full Orbital, well . . . I have plans, let's leave it at that for now.]

[I'll look forward to our next executive meeting.] Regan arrived at the compound door and paused there.

[So . . . prepare me Ham, what are you and Jared up to in there?]

[What are you suggesting?] His mock offence was obvious. [I have only that boy's long term development in mind, you know that.]

[Sooo . . .?]

[We're doing some computer work.]

She paused before padding the door control. [And that means . . .]

[He's exploring the world.]

[Where Ham, where is he exploring?]

He didn't answer . . .

[Ham . . .]

[Well, they have tried to nuke us three times!]

[Russia?]

[He's very inventive you know, came up with the idea all on his own.]

[And the idea was . . . ?]

[Well, put it like this, if they ever try to push that red button, it won't work.]

She smiled and padded the door.

[He's like a young Mozart you know . . . it's just that his interests are in other fields.]

[Are those interests his or yours, my friend?]

[I can't say I've noticed any difference in our interests.] Ham radiated innocence.

As she entered the lounge a happy Jared came out of the study so Regan sat on the couch and patted the seat beside her. He slid up and crossed his arms smugly.

"And what have you been up to, my boy?" She rustled his hair, much to his annoyance.

"I've saved you mom."

"Have you? Well, thank you very much, and how did you do that?"

"They won't be able to missile you
-
because I've misled them!"He laughed at his own little joke.

"Tell me more my young guardian."

"It's so simple, when they try to shoot their missiles they won't work." He sat forward and turned to look at her very excited. "I thought I could lie down over the barrel so when they fire the missile and it doesn't work it will embarrass them."

"Hmm . . . but when the doors open over the missile, won't you just fall through?"

He considered that for a moment. "Are they pointed, the missiles?"

"More rounded on the end I think."

"Hmm, that doesn't sound too bad . . . they'll still be embarrassed."

"I'm sure they will." She grabbed his hands and pulled them to her chest, "Now, what do you want to do for your birthday - you're five now, come on, anything!"

His eyes widened with excitement. "I want to fire a gun!"

Somewhat deflated, she nevertheless controlled her reaction. "Well, we'll need to talk to Marin then. He's the only one with a big gun around here."

Jared, never one to stay in a single place for long, slipped away quickly with a look that telegraphed he was a boy with a purpose.

As Regan reclined in the entrance garden she relaxed and mentally scanned the pipe, her ability to roam cyberspace growing better by the day. She could see Kevin and Mary with Hayden consulting over China's arrival on the Hillary Step. Some issue over expectations of support seemed to be dominating the boring discussion. The twins were with Jean in the Hillary restaurant section having lunch. Jared was already back with Ham in the office; he had concerns,
that there might be other buttons
. She mused on that for a while.
How would the constant threats on her life affect him?
Kutch was working with Hilary on the central processors and plans for expansion to her envisaged full Orbital. Outside the pipe the two huge new fabricators continued the process of pumping out sections, girders and gravitation plates.

From her position she watched a small group walk up from the flight decks. The surprisingly young Coran officer walked in the center beside Aaron and looked nervous. Leah and the now hirsute Marin walked on either side of the pair. Looking at Marin and his already shoulder length dark hair she unconsciously combed fingers through her own short crop, enjoying the feeling and the fresh look. Like Leah she had kept the cut short, not too dramatic a change and she liked it, very practical.

[Marin.] She subbed him privately.

[Hi babe.] He didn't break stride but she delighted to see his immediate smile.

[Forgive me, I know you're probably watching out for this but none of the Cora group is actually working with Aaron on the ship are they?]

[Don't worry, none of them are even allowed in engineering while he's there. No, it's a mystery to them that we have anyone who can even understand the drive, none of them can.]

[Hilary has lunch coming in here for our meeting but perhaps Aaron might prefer taking a break, maybe Leah could take him up to the cafe? The Coran business probably won't involve him anyway.]

[I'll check, see you soon.]

She didn't follow their conversation, her thoughts instead shifting to the afternoon call with President Johnston. She knew what it would be about, exotic matter, the magic bean as Ham had once called it and the limiting factor in their plans. Of course the Americans would need a power source for their shuttles, based as they were on the Coran drives and so would every other nation looking to establish a space presence. Thus far, however, they had been unable to establish a source of the elements required anywhere in the solar system. They didn't really need a special reason to return to Gliese but the shortage of insertion ready cores gave them compelling motivation to do it soon.

At the sound of doors opening she stood and waited for them to enter. Only Marin and the Coran officer appeared and she gestured, guiding them through to the lounge, noting Marin placed himself between them as they passed.

[He worries you?] She subbed.

[Just careful.] Marin smiled.

They took seats opposite each other and for a while just looked across the space, each waiting for the other to speak. Marin broke the impasse.

"Regan, this is Officer Cora, he was fourth in line to the Behemoth throne so to speak. He now finds himself the most senior officer following the unfortunate demise of his superiors."

She smiled across at the young man, disarmingly warm. "Cora? An interesting name . . . does that mean . . ." She hesitated, hoping he would fill the gap.

"Yes Mistress," he looked almost apologetic. "I am a Cora, of the founding family and I am here more by favor than ability. I am ashamed to say I'm just a junior in the hierarchy at home. Please be assured, I have no great influence, nor do I hold any grudge."

"You wished to speak with me, Cora. What can be so important that it could not be discussed with my partner Ham?" She became serious, her eyes boring into the man and he shifted uncomfortably. Marin, with lightning speed placed one hand firmly on his arm; the message was clear.

He looked down at the hand and swallowed. "Please accept my apologies Mistress; my nerves get the better of me. I simply wanted to meet you and share the feelings of the crew, and to pass on a warning."

"A warning
-
you must enlighten me." She shifted forward confidently.

"Not a warning about us Mistress, most of the crew are behind you and the son of Mariner." He looked at Marin and nodded in acknowledgement. "My warning is about Beria and what may come to pass." He was sitting forward, suddenly most earnest.

Marin bristled at just the mention of Beria's name and Regan lifted one hand, giving him pause. He sat back without speaking.

"Tell me more, Commander Cora."

"Beria has the ear of my uncle, the Emperor, and she is fixated on revenge. You know she will not go away."

"Yes, this we do know Commander, but I sense you have something else to report."

"Yes Mistress, I reviewed the actions of my superiors prior to their . . . demise. Commander Merryl's orders were abhorrent and you must believe the crew would never have supported them had they known. But my review also found an issue of great concern. Soon after arrival Tech Officer Terrin sent back a drone to Cora with the Commander’s report as is normal practice. At home they would have expected three more drones to arrive in the time since the first one, one for every three of your months at most."

She nodded. "So you expect they'll be concerned nothing has arrived since that first one. . ." she nodded for him to continue.

"What do I think?" He concentrated for a moment. "It has been nine months since they would have received that first report. They would wait for a while, allowing for delay on the second, after all anything could have happened to the ship. They would then consider whether the Behemoth was already on the way back, or whether a drone was damaged in transit, all the reasons why there might be delay. But eventually they will face the inevitable, that something has happened to the ship. Then they will consider all the possibilities, and their next action. If the ship has not returned then is it damaged, or destroyed? If it is damaged, do we go in rescue?" He looked up, embarrassed. "In that case under normal circumstances I would say probably not, they wouldn't come to rescue as they do not value the lives, merely the task." He paused, uncomfortable with what he was saying.

"But in this case you think they will act differently?" She probed further.

"Mistress, I have seen the original orders; my uncle is expansionist . . . he wants to build an empire. And, of course there is the matter of Beria's bitterness, they may well come regardless of what might have happened and if they assume the vessel has been destroyed they will come in strength." He didn't look happy.

"Thank you Commander Cora, of course we have known questions would be raised and at some point they would respond. The question was whether we would return to Gliese before they came here; it's a conundrum. We needed to make sure we were prepared for defense here in case we passed them in transit, particularly with what I have in mind." She looked pensive until Ham interrupted.

"Regan, I've been reviewing the report Commander Merryl sent back. You should probably see at least part of it."

She turned automatically to the still picture on the wall screen. She could see Commander Merryl of the Behemoth, another familiar looking Coran she didn't know and two Russians looking comically small compared to their hosts. It was clear from the surroundings they were meeting in space, in a meeting room of the warship.

"Merryl you know," Ham continued. "The other Coran you can see is Rymer, he was the Behemoth number two, and you may remember him from the Russian trial. The General is Lebedev and his offsider there is the shuttle pilot. I'm going to pick up the recording from mid way through the meeting."

The visual resumed.

"Commander," General Lebedev spoke, "the Russian Federation, as senior member of the Earth Security Council and as leaders in the Earth space program welcomes you to our planet. We have looked forward to such a visit since the knowledge of your worlds became known to us. Sir, we wonder at the purpose of your welcome visit, if any, and how we may work together to mutual advantage."

Regan watched Merryl closely and he seemed arrogant, giving nothing away. After a long pause he glanced sideways at his First Officer, and then turned his eyes back to the General slowly. "Major General, we are here for the murderess
-
one Regan, and for the rebel Merali from our system. Do you know of them?"

The General, staying admirably neutral glanced first at his assistant and then back at the Coran. "Commander, it seems fortune favors you. You have by chance or fate come to the people most able to assist you in your quest." He leant forward conspiratorially, "As I said, I wonder how this quest and our assistance might work to mutual advantage."

Merryl's look was hard to read, but it seemed to Regan he was definitely taken aback. He hid it well.

"Major General, it is our expectation that fate will always work with us. It would be a great disappointment for your words to prove empty
-
however, should you be able to deliver on the promise of assistance, who knows what benefits might accrue for those who assist?" Merryl conceded a tight smile.

Lebedev remained calm. "Then we must work together to achieve our respective goals Commander. Might I suggest at your earliest convenience we meet with the leaders of our Federation, and develop a plan that will see your needs met
and
our own. You may yet have the bitch and her bastard son." The General’s excitement could hardly be contained.

Merryl's demeanor remained cold, chilling. "
This
is my earliest convenience General, we will leave at once."

[Enough Ham.] The picture faded away to nothing and Regan pursed her lips, squeezing them between her fingers, immediately troubled and thinking.

[Where's Brian?] She subbed.

[He's here on station by chance, looking after a small security matter for me. He's on the flight deck, why?]

[Could you get him up here pronto please, I'd like him to escort Commander Cora back to the ship.]

[Ahem! He might need time to . . . wash his hands, but I'm onto it.]

"Commander Cora, thank you again for bringing your thoughts to our attention, we would like to consider them and you will be escorted back to the ship." She smiled and stood.

He looked surprised. "I was hoping, Mistress, to perhaps see a little of your Orbital and also discuss other ways I might assist."