Redemption Protocol (Contact) (19 page)

“We can at least try to understand another species. It could be a gift,” Weaver said.

Stone’s head lolled slightly.

“I understand my wife more than we understand the Dem.”

Havoc reflected.

“Sometimes you don't understand things, you just get used to them.”

Stephanie raised an eyebrow at him, apparently amused by his philosophical contribution. His ex-fiancée held his gaze as she toyed suggestively with her wine glass. He wasn't sure whether to be pleased or terrified.

“Surely we would agree that humans are unique in their ability to be cruel to their own species?” Jafari said.

Fournier set his glass down.

“Oh, bullshit. We had a swan on our lake. It beat the other swans with its wings until it could force their heads under the water and drown them. After it murdered them it danced for its mate. I didn't believe it until my daughters filmed it.”

Touvenay nodded.

“Intraspecies cruelty being limited to humans is a myth.”

“But surely once a species develops the intelligence to reach the stars...?” Kemensky said.

“Like we did?” Jafari said.

Weaver frowned.

“But... we didn't.”

~    ~    ~

The mood was relaxed. The food, though not of Fournier's standard, was excellent and Darkwood's Château Margaux '89 was excellent. They were drinking it with a crumbly, sharp Edelpilz, biscuits and defrosted grapes when Fournier tantalized them with a description of an exquisite sweet, ‘if they thought they could make room’.

A rolling wave of enthusiasm washed Fournier into the kitchen and shortly afterward he disappeared to get some additional ingredients. He reappeared a short time later and cleared a space at one end of the table. Laid out before Fournier were various items, including, Havoc noticed, a gas cylinder by his knee. Fournier commentated as he busied himself.

“We don't have the equipment I need for the baskets, so I have taken the liberty of borrowing this cylinder of cyclobutane.”

A cheer of bravado came from the diners. Various military eyes narrowed; Tyburn's in particular.

“I'm not sure this is a good idea.”

Brennen gazed down the table.

“Mr Fournier, can you assure our security lead, Mr Tyburn, that you know what you are doing?”

“I can, Sir.”

Bergeron looked back and forth nervously.

“I don't think this should happen. It's against regulations.”

Abbott snorted.

“You lawyers only ever want to spoil our fun.”

Bergeron shook her head in protest.

“That's not true. In fact, I would go so far as to say it's a misrepresentation.”

Abbott snorted.

Brennen laughed.

“Noted and overruled on moral grounds.”

Humberstone dived to the aid of his legal partner.

“Strictly speaking, there are no moral grounds on which to overrule.”

Brennen spoke in a firm but well-humored voice.

“Bergeron, Humberstone; please stop worrying about the playback of this dinner at some unknown point in the future and be more concerned with simply enjoying it now. Proceed, Mr Fournier.”

“Yes, Sir!”

Fournier asked Stephanie, Weaver and Novosa to sit in a three way circle facing inward. Havoc had no idea what the dessert entailed, but having three beautiful women sitting in a circle seemed a great start.

Fournier asked the ladies to hold their hands out in front of them and with some trepidation they did so. Fournier began weaving an elaborate construction between their hands using a fine golden thread. There was a great deal of intrigued conversation around the table. The room was fascinated, loving Fournier's theatrical performance – the magician weaving his spell over his three alluring assistants.

In the center of the long strands running from their hands emerged a segmented woven globe onto which Fournier deposited a thick syrupy paste, frozen sorbet and chocolate putty. The confection smelled sweet and delicious. Fournier was immersed in his virtuoso performance as he complemented his gorgeous assistants on their steady hands while racing to complete his structure before it melted, cooled, shifted or any other one of a myriad of other things that could bring it crashing down before its completion.

“That's it my beautiful elves! Hold it there; perfect, you are perfect!”

The three women were laughing, entranced by the sculpture held between them. The room was heavy with anticipation as Fournier built to a climax; twisting, tweaking and then lifting the explosive canister. The women were wide eyed with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as Fournier coaxed them on.

“That's right, steady, that’s just what I want; hold it, hoooold it.”

Fournier deftly flicked on the canister nozzle with his free hand and gas hissed around the dessert. There was a building 'ooooh' from the room, especially from the three women. They all had their hands pushed forward but were simultaneously trying to twist their faces away as Fournier shouted, sparking the gas.

'And...!”

A flash of fire enveloped the food art and the three women screamed as the flames whooshed between them. The flames raced along the threads, burning them away and their hands parted streaming flickering remnants.

“Voila!”

Fournier stepped back holding a spinning globe of caramelized weave, containing compartments of crushed sorbet and chocolate truffle; the confection hanging from a thick golden thread.

The room erupted into applause. Darkwood leaped to his feet.

“Spectacular!”

“Wonderful!” Novosa cried.

Brennen shook his head in wonder.

“Mr Fournier, you surpass yourself!”

Havoc clapped with everyone else but his brow was troubled. Brennen shouted over to him.

“Come now, John; that must have impressed even you.”

Havoc's face broke into a smile.

“Fantastic.”

Havoc looked at Tyburn.

“Are you going to tell them or should I?”

Tyburn shrugged.

The room quietened, sensing a problem. Fournier stood, the globe still spinning back and forth. Brennen looked puzzled though he still sounded well-humored.

“Is there something you want to share, Mr Havoc?”

Havoc gestured at the globe.

“Well, Mr Fournier has just created that wonderful dessert in our Hub Hab.”

Brennen nodded.

“Right.”

“Using a controlled explosion.”

More nods.

“Right.”

“And nothing happened.”

“Right.”

“Ah.”

“Hmm.”

Silence. People thinking.

Touvenay frowned at him.

“Is this the dog that doesn’t bark?”

Havoc nodded.

“Right. It's exactly that.”

“What?” Stone said.

Brennen’s expression turned serious.

“There should have been an alarm.”

 25. 

Havoc knelt next to Jafari while their systems expert completed his diagnostics on the sensor block in the instrument panel. Brennen stood over them with Tyburn, Whittenhorn and Yamamoto. The atmosphere remained relaxed and the dinner party went on, slightly muted. Faults on ships were rare but not impossible, and this ship had been rushed into service in the attempt to keep the mission secret.

Brennen looked at Havoc.

“We have this under control, John, if you want to have another drink.”

“It's fine, Commander.”

Jafari inspected the results.

“The sensor information is being relayed to the control without any problems. It's the sensor control which is faulty.”

“Shouldn't it self-report, then?” Havoc said.

Jafari frowned and juggled it in his hand, then tossed it to him.

“Yes it should but it diagnoses itself as fine. Faulty part.”

Havoc caught it and spun it in his hand. He inspected the Hub Hab topo in his mind's eye. As soon as there had been a problem he'd pulled the topo from shipnet. Shipnet had pinged Brennen to give him permission and Brennen had granted him access. Havoc studied the topo.

“There are two controls for this hab, right? One covering this side and the other covering the counter area.”

Jafari nodded.

“Yeah. They're both faulty.”

Havoc’s tone was dubious.

“You really think both these parts are faulty? Both with corrupt self-diagnosis?”

Jafari shrugged.

“It suggests a manufacturing fault. It happens. At least we can sort it out now.”

Havoc turned to Brennen.

“I'm going to grab a sensor from the kit in hab three and bring it over.”

“You found it, John, well done. You can relax now and we'll address it after the meal. There's no rush.”

“I don't mind.”

Tyburn sounded impatient.

“Look, you already got the hero points for finding it, Havoc; you can leave it for now.”

“I don't mind,” he persisted.

Yamamoto looked at Brennen.

“I have no objection, Commander.”

Brennen looked at his ship captain. An understanding passed between them. Brennen turned to Havoc and nodded.

“Fine.”

Tyburn frowned.

“Commander––”

Brennen lifted a hand.

“It's fine, Mr Tyburn. Proceed, Mr Havoc.”

 26. 

As Havoc re-entered the Hub Hab, Stone was leaning against the counter sandwiched between Novosa, who sat with her legs crossed on a high stool, and Marsac, who towered over Stone as he loosened his bow tie. Someone, and for Stone's sake Havoc hoped it was Novosa, had drawn a heart on Stone's bald head. Stone looked as happy as a dog having its tummy tickled. Stone held up his glass and called over to Havoc.

“You want a drink?”

Havoc waved in acknowledgment and shook his head 'no' as he made his way over to the panel. Jafari joined him and Tyburn wasn't far behind. Havoc handed Jafari the sensor and Jafari slipped it into position. It spun up, performed a status check and confirmed it was functioning correctly. They waited.

Nothing.

They watched.

Nothing.

They breathed easier.

Stone stepped forward from the counter holding up a bottle.

“Hey, Havoc, you sure I can't bring you a drink?”

Stone staggered forward, drunk and precariously unbalanced. Marsac grasped the shoulder of Stone's jacket to stop him tumbling over. Stone's face registered confusion at the mysterious force holding him upright. His eyes rolled skyward in search of an answer.

Havoc laughed.

Stone stumbled sideways. Half of the hab was bathed in red light as a grating alarm sounded. Stone lurched back as people whipped round in alarm.

The alarm switched off and the lighting returned to normal.

There was a frenzy of voices as a dozen conversations started at once. Havoc got the alarm information over shipnet at the same time as everyone else. A bomb, near the counter. Havoc’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Stone.

Biobomb
.

Stone looked terrified. Marsac was the only thing keeping him from collapsing to the floor.

Tyburn circled around the room like a stalking predator.

“You felt ill earlier, didn’t you, Stone?”

On the far side, Karch circled the other way. And, of course, Marsac was right on top of him. Bergeron sounded scared.

“What does this mean?”

Tyburn spoke in a calm voice.

“Just stay there, please. Nobody move while we deal with this. No need to be alarmed.”

“I can take him from here,” Ekker said.

Ekker was pointing a pistol at Stone. Stone’s eyes widened in terror.

“What?!”

Brennen’s voice was clear and commanding.

“No.”

Ekker licked his lips, keeping his eyes firmly on Stone.

“If he goes up, we're all fucked.”

Tyburn moved slowly inward.

“You probably felt sick from the contaminants leaking into your system.”

Stone’s expression was that of a young wildebeest carved out from the herd, isolated and vulnerable. The lions stalked round him, positioning for the kill. Stone sought out Havoc as his panic mounted.

“Havoc?”

“Let me take him,” Ekker said.