The Gap into Madness: Chaos and Order (36 page)

Min
respected his attitude without sharing it. She hated the position Warden had
put her in too much to like the prospect of discussing it openly.

She
felt a small relief, quickly suppressed, when she found Dolph alone in the
galley. The door to the mess stood open, of course, and half a dozen of the
crew sat there at the tables, eating or talking; in easy earshot. But at least
if they overheard her they might not see her squirm.

Captain
Ubikwe sat at the galley table with a mug of coffee steaming between his hands.
The table was intended to hold trays and plates while the dispensers and
foodvends were being used, but a couple of chairs were kept available for
people who needed to eat fast and leave. Dolph hunched in one of them, propping
himself up with his elbows as if he needed the support. When he caught sight of
Min, he nodded her toward the other chair.

“Get
yourself something to eat, Director,” he rumbled. “Sit down. We have to talk.”

Min
needed food, but she was in no mood for it. Instead of asking, Why now? What’s
changed? she countered, “You want to talk here?”

He
shrugged. “Why not? I’m not the one who keeps this ship alive. I don’t make her
run. Her crew does that. So I don’t keep secrets from them.”

Standing,
she towered over him. She hardly noticed the way her fingers alternately
stroked and gripped the butt of her handgun. “You know,” she muttered softly, “I
could order you to discuss this with me in my cabin — and keep it to yourself
afterward. I have the authority, Dolph.”

“Sure,”
he responded with a show of confidence which belied his tension. “But you won’t.
You aren’t that much of a hypocrite.”

The man
was insufferable; but Min stopped herself on the verge of telling him so. In
truth what she found insufferable wasn’t him as much as the pressure he exerted
on her; the way he pushed her to acknowledge the ambiguity of what she was
doing. He didn’t deserve her anger. It belonged to Warden Dios.

Nevertheless
it refused to go away. She helped herself to a mug of coffee from the
dispenser, a bowl of stew from the foodvend, then thumped them down on the
table and took the chair Dolph had indicated. Glaring at him like a hawk, she
murmured harshly, “Damn it, Captain Ubikwe, I wish you would stop treating me
like the enemy. I’m Min Donner, not Maxim Igensard. And I’m as sure as hell not
Holt Fasner. For a change of pace, why don’t you give your sense of outraged victimisation
a rest and just tell me why you wanted your command fourth to wake me up?”

Dolph
didn’t look away: he had anger of his own to match hers. When he spoke,
however, he lowered his voice enough to keep his accusation between the two of
them.

“You may
not be the enemy,” he rasped, “but you sure as hell are a problem. You ordered
me to turn my back on one ship which may very well be committing an act of war,
and another which looks like she might be engaged in some kind of high-level
treason, just so we could go haring off after one of our own ships. She arrived
out of forbidden space, and you know why she went there, you were expecting her
to show up when she did, so I presume you also know where she’s going. But you
haven’t told me why. Why we’re here, why you’re here, why she’s here.

“
Do
you
know where she’s going?”

The
vehemence of his demand took Min aback. She shook her head, sat as still as a
gun while she waited for him to explain.

“In
that case,” he growled more loudly, “I’ll tell you.” Perhaps it was a mark of
respect that he didn’t call her a liar. “Massif-5. Valdor Industrial. Which by
some amazing coincidence happens to be where we just came from.”

Oh,
shit, Min groaned to herself. No wonder Dolph was angry.

But he
wasn’t done. “You may have forgotten,” he went on with more and more vitriol in
his tone, “so I’ll remind you that we were holed twice. We’ve got internal spin
displacement playing hob with navigation, we’ve got micro-leaks in some of the
hydraulic systems, one of our scan banks is useless, and
four of my people
are dead,
Director.” He visibly restrained an impulse to pound the table. “Eleven
more are hurt too bad to work. And
that’s
where this gap scout of yours
is headed. Unless she changes her mind, she’ll reach the system in twenty-four
hours.

“Once
she gets there, even a Class-1 UMCP homing signal may not be enough to help us
follow her — which we’ll have to do if you really want us to keep that Amnion
ship from catching her.

“Do you
think we haven’t suffered enough? Are you planning to make us sail that damn
Sargasso until navigational displacement if not ordinary bad luck contrives a
head-on collision with an asteroid?

“Director
Donner, I want to know what this is all about.”

Min let
out a sigh of recognition. “I can see why.” Under the circumstances, she couldn’t
think of a reason to keep what she knew to herself. “I’ll give you the best
answer I can.

“But I
have to warn you. What I tell you may not be complete.” The euphemism tasted
like bile in her mouth. “ED is peripheral to this operation. Hashi Lebwohl and
Warden Dios planned it together” — I
assume
they planned it together — “without
paying much attention to my opinion. So there could easily be things I don’t
know about it.

“I
presume you read
Trumpet’s
flare?”

Dolph
faced her squarely. “Sure.”

“Then
you don’t need me to draw you a map. I told you we — that is to say, DA —
launched a covert attack on Thanatos Minor. That was
Trumpet
. We put out
the story she’d been stolen, but the truth is we gave her to a former illegal named
Angus Thermopyle.

“I say ‘former’
because once Hashi got his hands on him, Captain Thermopyle stopped making his
own decisions. He’s been welded — he’s a cyborg, complete with zone implants
and a datacore. And he’s been programmed to do whatever Hashi tells him. He
could approach Thanatos Minor because he was an illegal in a stolen ship, but
we sent him there to blow up the whole planetoid.”

Dolph
opened his mouth to ask a question, then bit his lip and remained still,
letting Min tell the story in her own way. .

“But we
knew going in,” she went on, “that the situation on Thanatos Minor wasn’t
simple. A man named Nick Succorso was there, along with his ship,
Captain’s
Fancy
. He’s one of Hashi’s less reliable operatives. Most of the time he
pretends to be illegal, but actually he works for DA. That’s why he has a ‘mutagen
immunity drug’ in his possession.”

Mordantly
Dolph growled, “I didn’t know mutagen immunity drugs existed. That’s a hell of
a discovery to keep secret.”

Scowling,
Min shrugged. “I’ll get to that. Let me finish this first.

“Succorso
went to Thanatos Minor from Enablement Station. Don’t ask me why — I don’t know
what the hell he thought he was doing. But
that,
I assume, is why the
Amnion now know about the drug — and why he knows about their near-C
acceleration research. What must have happened next is that Thermopyle managed
to rescue some of
Captain’s Fancy
’s people before Thanatos Minor blew.

“If
that were all, it might be enough to make the Amnion risk an encroachment. But
you read the flare — you know it gets worse.

“Captain
Thermopyle has a rather special group of people aboard. Just the fact that
Succorso is with him is a surprise, considering that Hashi never would have
gotten his hands on Thermopyle if Succorso hadn’t framed him for a crime he
didn’t commit. But there’s more.

“Morn
Hyland is an ED ensign.”

Dolph
dropped his jaw in surprise; but Min didn’t stop.

“Thermopyle
captured her off
Starmaster
when that destroyer went down. Then Succorso
took her from Thermopyle. One of them must have gotten her pregnant, which is
why she now has a son — ‘force-grown’, whatever that means.” The thought made
Min want to spit. “Apparently something about the process has implications the
Amnion didn’t foresee. Now they want him back because they think he holds the
key to replicating Amnion as human beings. Which could be the only weapon they
need to destroy us.”

Grimly
Min held Dolph’s stare. “Does that sound like enough? Do you think
Trumpet
needs protection? Do you think the Amnion would risk an act of war for stakes
like that?”

He
cleared his throat with a guttural rasp. “I would. If I were them. Which I’m
beginning to think I might be.”

Min
forced her hand off her gun to pick up her mug. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No,
please,” Dolph retorted sourly, “you first. Finish your story. Then I’ll take a
turn.”

“All
right.” Deliberately she studied her coffee as if she thought it might quiet
her apprehension. “Have it your way.”

What
happened while I was asleep? What else is going on?

“The
reason I’m here is simple enough.” On the surface, anyway. “The UMCP needs
somebody on the spot who can make decisions and back them up. Somebody who has
the authority to demand help and get it anywhere.

“You’re
here because you were the only ship available.

“I didn’t
know Thermopyle was going to head for Massif-5. But I can tell you how it
happened, and I can guess why.

“He’s a
cyborg. He’s also one of the worst illegals I know — which means no one
actually wants to let him make his own decisions. He was sent out with a man
who was supposed to control him, adjust his programming as circumstances
changed. That was Milos Taverner — the one who turned traitor.

“Well,
Hashi knew that might happen. Hell,
I
knew it might. So safeguards were
built into Thermopyle’s datacore. In effect, Taverner’s priority-codes were
erased. New codes were initiated. Unfortunately they’re useless unless he has
somebody with him who knows what they are. For the time being, at least,
Thermopyle is out of control to some extent.

“But
Hashi anticipated all this. Thermopyle’s programming has instructions that
require him to report. And activate that homing signal. Then the only thing he
has to do is stay away from Earth and UMCPHQ — and stay alive. He can go
wherever he wants until we have time to determine how dangerous he is and issue
new orders.

“That’s
another part of our job. As soon as Director Dios says so, we’ll manoeuvre
close enough to
Trumpet
to invoke Thermopyle’s new codes.”

Captain
Ubikwe frowned darkly, but didn’t interrupt.

“Anyway,”
she continued, “he chose to head for Massif-5 on his own. Maybe he just thinks
he’ll be safe there — but I doubt it. He doesn’t know that system. So it’s my
guess he picked Massif-5 because he has Succorso and Shaheed aboard.”

And
maybe because Morn is there.

“Go on,”
Dolph muttered.

“Do you
recognise the name Vector Shaheed?” she asked, although she had no reason to
think he would. “He’s a genetic engineer — he used to work for Intertech, back
in the days when Intertech was doing research into mutagen immunity drugs. As
far as anyone knows — publicly — the research was shut down because it involved
dangerous genetic tampering. But the truth is that the research was turned over
to DA. Hashi completed it. He’s been using people like Succorso to test it — and
maybe to play a few mind games with the Amnion. After the Intertech project was
stopped, Shaheed ended up with Nick Succorso. A case of ‘disaffected loyalty’,
according to the psy-profile in his id file.

“I
think that’s why Thermopyle is heading for Massif-5. Succorso has an immunity
drug, and Shaheed knows how to analyse it. Where else could Thermopyle find a
bootleg lab to study that drug, and keep himself alive in the process?”

A sneer
of disbelief twisted Dolph’s face. “You think he wants to duplicate this drug?
And do what with it? Mass-produce it? Go into business selling it — to
illegals, I presume? Hashi Lebwohl’s pet cyborg?”

Min
resisted an impulse to snarl back, What do you think I am, a mind reader?
Instead she returned, “I think that’s what Succorso has in mind. He’s capable
of it. Maybe Shaheed is, too. Thermopyle isn’t. But he is capable of going
along with it because he doesn’t know what else to do until his computer gets
new orders.”

“I see.”
Captain Ubikwe chewed his lip for a moment, consulted his empty mug. “Unfortunately
that just makes matters worse.”

“How?”
Min was tired of oblique gibes. “What do you care what Succorso has in mind?
Thermopyle’s in command — and we can control him as soon as we get close enough
to send him a message.”

Dolph
snorted to himself. Still studying his mug, he asked, “Are you done? Is there
anything else I should know?”

She
shook her head brusquely.

“In
that case” — he put his palms flat on the table like a man who meant to start
shouting — “it’s my turn.”

Here it
comes, Min thought. Because she needed the discipline, she forced herself to
begin eating her stew as if nothing he could say would hurt her.

“I
suggested,” he began harshly, “that I feel like I might be working for the
Amnion without knowing it. Turning my back on alien incursions has that effect
on me.” He appeared to swell with outrage as he spoke, taking on bulk as well
as passion from his own words. He didn’t raise his voice: nevertheless it
seemed to resonate off the walls. “Turning my back on ships that might be
engaged in treason has that effect. And hearing that I work for an organisation
that develops mutagen immunity drugs and then keeps them secret so men like
this Captain Succorso can have them to play with produces the same goddamn
sensation.