Redemption Protocol (Contact) (50 page)

'
His followers save Him from the infidel who trap Him in His tomb
,' Jafari had said, with perhaps a soupçon more glee than Havoc thought appropriate. Havoc had increasing suspicions about Jafari and Jafari's desire to pray with the Gathering pretty much clinched them.

Yamamoto spoke from the
Intrepid
as she pinged a surface location south of the pyramid.

“The United Systems and People’s Republic are dropping south of you, Havoc. They’re making diplomatic overtures to advance to the pyramid. I’ve referred them to Abbott. They’re ramping up activity.”

Havoc could already detect the uptick in the electronic warfare environment.

“Got it, Yamamoto, thanks.”

Yamamoto pinged another location far to the south of Plash.

“And we have three ORC ships approaching your position, Tyburn. A lifter and two fighters. They aren't coming in directly; they look to be aiming off to a site less than ten kilometers away from the shaft. Here.”

Havoc reviewed the position that the Orion Republics’ Confederation vessels were aiming for. He frowned.

“Is there anything at that location?”

“Not that I can see,” Yamamoto said.

“Are they fighters or shuttles?”

“Definitely two fighters, the signature is clear.”

“Hmm.”

“Alright, Yamamoto, we have it,” Tyburn said.

Havoc wondered about the implications of the ORC disposition.

“Should we get Abbott to talk to the ORC?”

“We've got this, Havoc.”

“Here to help.”

“No kiss is a bad kiss, Havoc...”

Havoc smiled.

“Unless it's unwanted.”

“Right.”

“All ok down there, Tyburn?”

“We're good. You?”

“Good. How is Stone getting on with the reactors?”

“Look, Havoc, I'd love to chat all day but I have to go. And fine.”

Tyburn cut the connection. Havoc thought about his chat with Novosa and contacted Stone.

“Hey Stone, how you doing?”

Stone's voice was nasal and slurred.

“Yeah, fine.”

Stone sounded uncharacteristically flat. Novosa was right, something was wrong.

“You been drinking?”

“Only water.”

“Still got my Tregler Five?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Ekker took it off me.”

“Are you alright?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“You had a little trouble?”

“Yeah.”

“How's the position, you all set?”

“We've already lifted two out; the third is on its way up.”

“So they were there?”

“All fourteen of them.”

“You going to test them?”

“I'd love to. Best to set up a test harness in orbit though.”

Havoc considered this.

“So why don't you lift the first three out and test one in orbit? Now the shaft is rigged there's no point in you being there, is there?”

“I guess not.”

“You've got the lifter there?”

“Yeah. I could just auto-lift out of here.”

“You got your suit on?”

“I have now.”

“Keep it on.”

A little bit of Stone’s banter returned.

“Is that a die with your boots on thing?”

Havoc smiled. Stone was cheering up as he started to think about getting out of there and away from Ekker.

“Actually it's a ‘you're less likely to die with your boots on’ thing.”

“Ok. I gotta go. Tyburn is calling me to the crane.”

“Just remember the famous fish philosophy.”

“What that’s?”

“You never get in trouble if you just keep your mouth shut.”

Stone groaned.

~    ~    ~

Tyburn and Ekker stood in the command cabin listening to Stone complete his conversation with Havoc.

Tyburn’s lip curled derisively.

“Just like those ORC morons to broadcast their presence to the entire galaxy.”

“Well you were right, Stone bleated to Havoc.”

“You're a fucking idiot.”

Ekker parted his hands, shrugging.

“I just lost it.”

Tyburn stared at Ekker. Ekker looked increasingly uncomfortable. He spread his hands.

“I’m sorry. Havoc doesn't suspect. He's just trying to get Stone out of here.”

“We want Havoc down here, but not yet.”

“We could gut Stone’s comstrip.”

Tyburn nodded.

“Probably the fastest way to get Havoc down here. It’s too early though. We’d still be here.”

“Would that be such a problem?”

Tyburn frowned as he turned the situation over in his mind.

“You have no idea.”

 99. 

Novosa made her way outside the pyramid’s perimeter wall to replace the outer markers knocked out by the Gathering. She could replace them remotely by flying them in, of course, but it felt pretty liberating to go for a walk. She needed to think.

Novosa thought she'd changed, that she'd been changing for a while now. She couldn't deny it any more – she needed to act. It was ironic that, now she was dosed with tettraxigyiom, her decision might be too late.

She loved the military life and she loved men. Not just for sex or flirting or a fling, but men and their approach to things. You knew where you stood with guys as long as you weren't trying to pin them down emotionally. And when you didn't try to pin them down emotionally, they usually tried to pin you down instead. She smiled. Guys were simple and predictable. She'd enrolled as a system combatant and eventually moved on to blades. She wasn't soft or squeamish. She'd seen what her boys had done up close. And if the enemy ever got their hands on a blade runner, well... don’t get caught alive, simple as that.

She'd always been scathing of girls who wanted to find a man and settle down. She'd known for a fact that she would never become that person. She was too much of a free spirit, too independent. She'd traveled around countless systems, been stationed in so many places, seen so many fantastic things. But in the last few years there had been a gap, just a tiny gap at first, more a feeling. Something missing that had never been missing before. And the tiny gap had grown. Everything had started to feel a little empty. And despite her earlier protestations and the hearts she'd broken swearing that she'd never settle down, she'd started to think about kids. Or, rather, she had a feeling about kids. She wanted to have some.

This was such a foreign concept to her self image that it had taken her several years to acknowledge it, never mind come to terms with it. She wasn't some silly young girl who didn't know anything. She wasn't a clueless and infatuated young woman. But she did look at someone like Bob Stone and think, there is a nice guy. And Stone could transform his entire looks, sure, but she wasn't even sure that she was that bothered at the moment. That would pass though, she thought, laughing as she thought of Stone’s ridiculous dome.

This mission felt wrong, like one drink too many. Novosa knew her melancholy was probably being magnified, perhaps hugely, by the tettraxigyiom contamination. But she still felt it. Knowing why she had toothache wouldn’t fix her toothache and knowing that she might feel downcast due to contamination didn't make her feel any better either.

She took a deep breath. It felt good to think about it and at least try and understand where she was up to. She'd been struggling to think straight for the last few hours, losing time and generally feeling dopey and hebetudinous.

She walked over the top of a low dune, perhaps a kilometer into the arid terrain. She spoke before she'd even properly registered the situation.

“Stephanie?”

Stephanie knelt beside something with only a tripod leg jutting out beside her leg. Stephanie turned quickly. She looked relieved.

“Oh, Saskia, thank goodness.”

Novosa felt strangely disoriented. She walked forward, around Stephanie, to reveal a surface comms kit with its collapsible disc unfurled and oriented skyward.

“What are you doing?”

“I found this.”

“You found it?”

“Yes, do you know what it is?”

Something felt wrong but Novosa didn't know what it was. Fucking tettraxigyiom contamination. Her mind was sluggish; befuddled like a village idiot's. Stephanie gazed up at her quizzically from her kneeling position.

“Maybe we've found something important. Do you think we should have John come out here?”

Novosa smiled. She crouched down to inspect the tripod. As she knelt down, Stephanie stood up. Novosa chatted as she inspected the equipment.

“What were the chances of you meeting your ex out here?”

Stephanie walked past the tripod and looked out across the dunes.

“I know. It's such a blessing.”

Novosa studied the tripod. It look like an Alliance relay for communicating with ships in orbit. She felt down the cable of the feed, presumably toward some kind of encryption assembly in the tripod's hollow leg.

“Do you think there's any chance for you two?”

Stephanie turned and walked slowly in the other direction, still gazing across the rolling dunes.

“I don't know. It's hard when there's so much history.”

Novosa frowned. She felt confused. There was no assembly on the end of the cable. She tried to recapture the thread of her thoughts. God her brain was fried.

“Ah, yeah, history.”

Stephanie walked forward to stand directly behind her.

“Do you know what it is?”

“Yes, but...”

Novosa realized that the assembly wasn't complete. It hadn't been finished. She felt rising alarm. What had been wrong clicked into focus. There was only one set of tracks down to the tripod.

“But?” Stephanie prompted.

Novosa’s gut constricted.
Otva otva otva
. She flicked on her all round view.

Stephanie stood over her with her arm raised, a filament blade fully extended from her right forearm, pointed straight at the back of her helmet.

Novosa fought panic as her adrenalin surged.

“I'm not sure, I need more time.”

 100. 

Weaver groaned inwardly as Kemensky’s complaining continued.

“I just don't understand why I can't do it as well as––”

Touvenay interjected.

“Kemensky even while God cursed you with a peevish and irritating voice he blessed you with a powerfully enigmatic silence. I suggest you play your strengths, God's will and my poor ears by shutting up.”

Kemensky visibly deflated.

“I want to be able to do what Fournier can.”

Weaver rolled her eyes.

“I want a pony.”

“I want a unicorn,” Touvenay said.

Karch gestured between them as she finished a snack.

“Great. Stick a horn on Weaver’s pony and we're golden.”

There was laughter. Kemensky skulked off to spend time with his ship. Touvenay came and sat next to Weaver. He gestured expansively.

“It's a treasure trove here. Undiscovered worlds.”

Weaver raised a questioning eyebrow.

“A Rosetta Stone?”

Touvenay’s eyes shone.

“Maybe. I've mapped a considerable amount of vocabulary as well as grammar rules for object actions. We're beginning to approach a critical mass. There is something interesting about the layout of the language.”

“Oh?”

“There are meta-markers used to denote lexicographical layout. Some are arranged horizontally and vertically, but many originate in the center and branch outward. Given the sheer quantity of pages laid out in this branching format––”

Weaver interrupted, trying to understand.

“In their navigation?”

“No, not only in the navigation but in their content. And utility determines layout. I wonder if they expect that the reader has a capability that makes that particular layout afford additional utility. I wondered, in other words, if they could process information concurrently.”

“Read multiple things at the same time?”

“Precisely, and perhaps also write them.”

Weaver smiled, fascinated.

“And how is the translation? Are you having a break? Or a breakthrough?”

Touvenay waved his hand at his screens. They displayed an accelerated form of Tetris with the alien symbols. Occasionally entire blocks would align, highlight, then disappear.