Junkyard Dogs 1: The Scrapyard Incident (32 page)

Chapter 61

New Ceylon Orbital Station, Central Spindle,
October 10, 2598

Oscar
Kresge
and as many of the members of his diverse command group
that would fit had crowded into the old communications room of the Orbital
Station spindle for the call to the Ambassador's ship. He looked around the
room.

"Okay, everyone, quiet!"
All chatter ceased.
Kresge pressed the call button on the Stage I Whitney communications console.

"This is
Commander Oskar Kresge at the New Ceylon Orbital Station calling Meridian
Imperial Ship
Istanbul
."

The reply was
almost immediate.

"
Istanbul
here, Captain Nassar speaking.
I have the Ambassador and your three
Naval
personnel
here, Commander."

"Very
good," replied Kresge. "And I have some of the other members of my
command here with me." He pointed to each as he introduced them.
"This is Kathy Haines, Salvador Vasquez, Orville Steuben, and Clancy
Davis-Moore. You already know Jane Tresham."

With formalities
taken care of, they immediately got down to business.

"Pardon the
urgency, but the leader of the terrorists has asked to speak with the
Ambassador as soon as possible. I've been putting him off by telling him that
we've had
difficulties getting the communications back up,
which really is
pretty close to the truth, but I think the excuse is
starting to wear a little thin. We can patch through to him almost anytime we
want to now. Carlisle, have you come up with anything yet?"

"I...I think
so, Commander."

"Okay, let's
hear it."

"Well... I
suggest that we handle the situation as two separate problems. We have the
immediate problem of the hostages and the more long term one of the nuclear
device. Solve them one at a time and you simplify the situation
tremendously."

"That's an
interesting proposition, Ensign."

"Are the
hostages located where you might be able to affect a rescue?" asked
Carlisle.

"There's
only a barricaded hatch between us on the southern end of the spindle and the
terrorists up in the northern end," said Haines. She thought a moment
longer. "The handiest place for them to put the hostages would be in the
office of the Chief of Security. The barricaded hatch opens into the end that
corridor. Maybe if we could distract them..."

"Where is
the most advantageous place for us to patch the call to, to lure them as far
away as possible from where the hostages are likely to be?" asked Kresge.

"That would
be the cargo receiving area, right next to the airlock entrance," said
Haines. She looked thoughtful. "There's a short corridor leading from the
receiving area to the security office. We could set up a defense there while we
get the hostages through the hatch and down into the spindle. We'd have to be
quick though, the corridor has no door and it'll be hard to hold for more than
a few minutes, especially against someone in battle armor."

"Can we make
this work?" asked Kresge.

"We need to
get the specs on the layout up there," said Haines.

"Do
it," said Kresge. "We need to know whether or not a rescue attempt is
feasible as soon as possible. In the meantime, we have to let Ezra talk to the
Ambassador before he kills someone. How far out are you and the
Istanbul
, Excellency?"

"We will be
at our hundred kilometer holding spot in just under two hours."

"I'll tell
him that we'll patch the call through in two hours."

"That will
work on our end," said the Ambassador. "How do you suggest I interact
with him?"

"Stall him
and stroke him," said Kresge. "The more time we have the more likely
we'll be to come up with some kind of plan on how to handle the nuclear
device." Kresge paused as another thought crossed his mind.

"I just
thought of something else that might work to our advantage. When those idiots
destroyed all of the communications equipment on deck one, they also destroyed
the links to the video surveillance equipment. If you approach the Orbital
station from due south, they'll have no way to know that you're coming. The
only viewports they have face north."

"By due
south, you mean the end opposite the main airlock?" asked Harris.

"Yeah,
there's an auxiliary airlock right near the pointed end of the spindle.
Just a few meters from the Whitney communications dishes.
You can board the station there."

"We can
board?" asked Harris. "Do you want us to come over there, Sir?"

"Sorry, Harris.
I really hate doing this, with you
three having just been through so much, but I think I'm going to need you and
Carlisle here. The hostages are in the central spindle area where there's no
gravity and Carlisle is the only one of us that's had any recent weightless
combat training. I'll need her to help with any kind of hostage rescue attempt.
I need you, Harris, just because there's so damned much to do here that I can't
handle it all!"

Kresge's brow
furrowed in thought again
..

"What am I
forgetting? Oh, yes... The leader asked for a ship. Where in the hell am I
going to get a damned ship?" he asked, shaking his head.

"There's one
out in the docking area," said Vasquez.

"What?"
exclaimed
Kresge.
"The docking area was supposed
to be empty of ships for security purposes!"

"I know, but
at the last minute we decided it would be okay to leave one out there. It's
Helen Murdock's ship, the
Greyhound.
She needs her Whitney drive realigned. If there'd been time to get her worked
on, Murdock would have been out of the system like everyone else. The guys on
the
Boise
checked the ship out and
declared that there was no threat. They said her ship could stay in the docking
area, but she had to be on the station."

Kresge remembered
why he hadn't seen the ship earlier. The docking area had been directly behind
him and therefore not visible from where he was in the restaurant when the
initial attack had occurred.

"Hawkins?
Sorry, man, but you'd better come, too. You're the only tech I have access to
that can realign a Whitney Overdrive that old. We'd better get to work on the
ship as soon as you get here. Might buy more time if those bastards know we're
getting a ship ready."

"I assume we
can use your cutter, Excellency?" asked Harris.

"Anything we
have is at your disposal," said the Ambassador.

"We'll be
waiting for you," said Kresge, "all you have to do is
knock
! Okay everyone, let's get busy. New Ceylon Orbital
Station, Out!"

Chapter 62

"...Communication and tolerance are the
keys to a peaceful future. Another of mankind's greatest inventions, which is
not employed nearly enough these days, is the art of compromise. The concept is
really quite simple, the opposing sides agree to meet somewhere in the middle
-- I'll give a little if you give a little. This great art was perfected by the
United States of America, one of the founding governments of the United Terran
Federation, but by the end of the twentieth century, even they had forgotten
how to use it...

...The Great Jihad, which took place on Old
Earth in the early part of the twenty-first century, was largely the result of
rigid, uncompromising idealities on both sides of the conflict. The leaders
couldn't find or didn't try to find any sort of middle ground. I hope you'll
pardon my extreme cynicism, but I'm afraid that I'm seeing the same patterns
dominating the relationship between the Federation and much of the Islamic
Alliance right now. Lately it's been getting worse.
Much
worse.
Something must be done or another conflict of some kind is all
but inevitable ..."

Hartwell Wrist
Comp reference note highlighted for further review by Tamara Carlisle. Excerpts
are from an interview of F.C. Talbot, CEO of The Talbot Institute conducted by
reporter Rebecca Tyndall of The Intergalactic Digital Press.

Onboard the Meridian Imperial Diplomatic
Ship Istanbul, October 10, 2598.

With Kresge
having signed off, the group on the bridge of the Istanbul began to file out.
Carlisle waited behind.

"Ensign
Carlisle?" said the Ambassasor, "Sondia would like word with
you."

"Of course, Excellency.
Lieutenant Harris informed
me."

"She is
waiting in her chambers. Shawndra will take you there.

"Thank you,
Excellency."

The old attendant
did not speak to Carlisle as she led her through the ship to the Lady Saladin's
quarters. Shawndra nodded to the two guards outside the door; one of them
placed his palm on the reader to allow them entry. The ambassador's wife was
waiting for Carlisle in an elaborate and beautifully decorated sitting room. A
tea service sat on a small table. The Lady Saladin's face broke into a smile.

"Thank you
for coming, Ms. Carlisle, please
have
a seat."

"I...
I
 
apologize
in
advance, Ma'am; I haven't a clue how to properly speak to an ambassador's
wife!"

"I'll make
it easy for you. Just call me Sondia. Have no fear, my dear, I was educated on
Old Earth and am quite familiar with your customs. Though my station and my
religion demand that I conform to certain rules when in public, I'm sure I
behave much as you do in less formal settings. This is not an official
diplomatic visit in any case. Please relax. Would you like some tea?"

"Thank you,
Ma'am, tea sounds wonderful."

The older woman
herself poured them each a cup and added a couple of lumps of sugar to her own.

"One of my little indulgences.
Would you like
some?"

Carlisle accepted
two lumps herself. She looked intently at her cup while she sipped her tea,
wondering what she was doing in the presence of this beautiful, exotic and very
powerful woman.

"I'm sorry
if this situation makes you nervous, my dear, but we think it is extremely
important that I discuss some very difficult matters with you."

"...Succession
War...destroyer battle... Is this about my research?"

"How very
interesting," said The Lady Sondia, more to herself than to
Carlisle.
"Lieutenant Harris warned us about
your...speech irregularities. Was that an example?"

Carlisle's face
turned beet red.

"I'm afraid
so, Ma'am."

"Be at ease
my dear. You are what you are. Your Lieutenant Harris was quite complimentary
about your mental abilities. Relax, just be
yourself
."
 

"That...That's
exactly what the Lieutenant told me."

"He is a
very wise young man. Let us resume where we left off."

"Okay...you
wish to discuss my research?"

The Lady Sondia
graciously picked up the thread of the conversation as though there had been no
interruption.

"In part,
but our interest goes beyond that. Your research project on the warships and
the tactics of the final battle of the War are, of course, very interesting and
will greatly add to our understanding of a very confused time in recent
history, but we are more interested in the theories of a Mr. F.C. Talbot."

"Talbot?"

"Yes, his
writings on the subject of the Islamic Alliance and the future of the
Federation are most alarming. Do you think that he may be correct?"

Carlisle thought
for a moment before replying, "...I don't know...Sondia," she said,
finally. "I must admit that I haven't read too much of his material beyond
what applies to my research. I stumbled across his some of his political and
philosophical writings while looking for more information on my research
project."

"So you
haven't delved too deeply into his teachings? You are not one of
his...disciples?"

"Heavens No,
Ma'am!" exclaimed Carlisle, somewhat appalled. "But what I have read
was...as you say, alarming."

"The man is
a professed
atheist,
do you think we can trust his
judgment?"

Once again,
Carlisle looked thoughtful.

"I...I don't
know about that, but during our run in with the terrorists out in the
Scrapyard, we were able to access the log of the old destroyer we were holed up
in. We found out that some of his more controversial theories regarding the
capabilities of two types of ship and the tactics that were used in the great
battle, turned out to be absolutely true. Of course, it didn't hurt that he was
assigned to one of the destroyers and actually took part in the battle, but I
would approach his other teachings with the attitude that he may be on to
something."

"That's what
we are afraid of. This attempt on Saad's life by a fundamentalist Christian
group in an alliance of convenience with a Muslim radical is most alarming. I
keep thinking that mankind will somehow and someday grow beyond all of the
petty bickering that has plagued us for all of history, but more and more I
fear that day may never come."

"Why is
Talbot so important?"

"Because he
says another war is probably coming."

"I read
that, but I don't know whether to agree with him or not."

The Lady Sondia
shook her head gently. "You don't know how bad things are getting in many
corners of human space, my dear. Saad and I, and others, agree with Talbot that
another war of some kind is inevitable. The question is: which side will
Meridian take in such a war?"

"You think
there could be another War of Succession?"

"No, but
this could be every bit as bad. If the tensions between the Federation and the
Alliance are not eased, we could be looking at Jihad -- a holy war. The
fundamentalists who launched this attack out here, with their vile teachings of
ethnic purity and cleansing of the human race are playing right into the hands
of those in the Islamic world
who
have exactly the
same attitude."

"You paint a
very grim picture, Sondia."

"The truth
is often difficult, my dear. My husband and I, and my father, believe that the
future of the Islamic Alliance and, indeed, the future of mankind lies in
mutual understanding and mutual respect between cultures. What you and your
fellow warriors have done out here to thwart this ill-advised attack on us is
an act of incalculable value! Your actions will go a long way to help us. Your
bravery is to be commended!"

"Thank you,
Sondia," said Carlisle, blushing again. "We only did our duty."

"And you did
it well. Unfortunately, there is yet more to do." The woman looked
earnestly at Carlisle. "I may be able to be of some help."

"...Anything
you can do would be greatly appreciated," said Carlisle, "but what
can you do from on board this ship, a hundred kilometers away?"

"That is a
Hartwell Wrist Computer you're wearing, is it not?"

"Yes,"
said Carlisle with a puzzled look.

"Let's try a
little experiment." The Ambassador's wife got up and went over to her
dresser. She placed her right index finger on an unobtrusive bit of an ornate
molding and pressed it inward which opened a small hidden drawer. She reached
into the drawer carefully and pulled out an object about half a centimeter in
diameter and two millimeters in thickness.

"This device
is a remote Truthseer sensor net generator," said Lady Saladin, "and
it behaves just like any other computer-linked device. Here, let me show you.
Put your wrist comp into receive mode."

Carlisle spoke
the command softly.

Lady Saladin
touched her index finger to the tiny device. "Connect to nearest receiver,"
she said softly. Within two seconds, Carlisle's wrist comp gave notification
that someone was attempting to communicate.

"
Hartwell wrist comp connect query received
from peripheral device. Do you wish to connect
?"

Carlisle looked
at Lady Saladin. The older woman nodded her head.

"Connect,"
said Carlisle.

"
Hartwell wrist comp connected to peripheral
device. Data can be stored or transmitted to another location. What would you
like to do with the data
?"

"Have it
send the data to my personal computer; I'll put it into communication
mode."

The Lady Saladin
went over to the computer console on the other side of the room and typed in a
command.

Carlisle's
computer gave her another prompt.

"
Hartwell Wrist Comp connect query received
from unknown computer. Do you wish to connect?"

"Yes."

"
Connection activated
."

"Transmit
data from peripheral device to personal computer," said Carlisle.

"
Communication initiated, data transferring..
."

Lady Saladin's computer
display began to show a series of ever-changing readouts that appeared to be
nothing but endless streams of numbers to Carlisle. Up in one corner of the
display a line wavered lazily across the bottom end of a graph of some kind.

"These are
your own physiological parameters, Tamara, as they are currently being read by
the net that this device is generating."

"This is
interesting, but how is it important?"

"Let's try a
another little experiment. I'll need to ask you some questions. Let me see,
something very innocent but perhaps very revealing."

"Okay..."
Carlisle wore a doubtful look.

"This
handsome young Lieutenant Harris that you have been serving with; are you
romantically involved with him?"

The readouts on
Lady Sondia's computer began scrolling down with increased speed and the sine
wave up in the corner graph was punctuated by a sharp spike.

"...Um...No...,"
said Carlisle.

Sondia consulted
the readouts and nodded her head. "The question took you by surprise but
your answer was truthful. Let's try another question. Would you like to
be?"

The readouts
continued to scroll rapidly and the sine wave jumped again.

"No,"
said Carlisle firmly.

"Ah...,"
said the truthseer, "Interesting..."

"What do you
mean, interesting?"

"The
readouts indicated that you are not sure of your answer."

Carlisle blushed
again and looked very uncomfortable.

The Lady Sondia
chuckled
goodnaturedly. "I am sorry if I have
embarrassed you, my dear, but for my demonstration to be effective it was
necessary for me to ask you something very personal that I knew would make you
uncomfortable." Her demeanor turned serious. "Please accept my
sincere apology. For someone with my training, the attraction between the two
of you is obvious." Carlisle gave her a questioning look. "You
couldn't tell? Oh yes, my dear, he is quite attracted to you.
As you are to him, not so?"

Carlisle
hesitated before reluctantly giving her a somewhat embarrassed nod.

"Be at ease,
Tamara, I assure you that none of this information goes outside this room. Now
back to business. You asked me how I could help. We can use your wrist computer
to send sensor net data to me, here on board the
Istanbul
. I can give you truthseer readings on whoever is within a
few meters of this sensor net. Of course, my decision won't be quite as
reliable as it would be if I could also get input by being in the actual
physical presence of the subject, but it would be vastly better than nothing at
all."

"How close
does it have to be the subject?"

"Within five meters."

"So you
didn't need the veil you were wearing when you questioned us and Caleb
Jordan?"

"The veil
works a lot better for multiple subjects and I also use it for official
occasions or for the times when I wish for those I'm questioning to know that
they are being subjected to a truthseer inquiry. For covert situations, I use
less obvious net generators, like this device."

"What would
you like me to do?" asked Carlisle.

The Lady Saladin
handed the device to Carlisle.

"I want you
to take this device with you and have it nearby whenever you're questioning
someone that you think a having truthseer reading on would be valuable. If you
could somehow get it near enough to the terrorists or, better yet, into their
possession, we could get a lot of useful information."

"Are you
sure this will work?"

"Yes, I'm
quite sure. The signal generated by the sensor net has a range of several
kilometers. You should be able to get the signal on your wrist comp from just
about anywhere on the orbital station. I don't know if you knew this, but your
Wrist comp has a range of several hundred kilometers, you just need to set the
parameters."