Regan's Reach 2: Orbital Envy (29 page)

Any personal meeting between a Russian President and three Supreme Court Judges, currently presiding over a case with national implications was a little unusual, even inappropriate,
but this is Russia
mused Judge Turgenev,
and what the little president wants, he gets.
He focused back on the monologue as Sokolov repeated his 'key' point for the third time. The message was clear. Forget legal technicalities on jurisdiction. The woman must go to trial. Turgenev sucked in his ample stomach, uncomfortable on the hard seating, desperate to toilet and stretch.
I am too old for this.

"Mr. President," He interrupted, "We are Judges of the Supreme Court. We consider matters of law and our whole justice system will be judged on the quality of our rulings. We must act on the evidence alone. It has been established that the testimony of the AI's is beyond question. On that testimony, if it is correct, The Coran jurisdiction is questionable and our own holds no weight whatsoever. In addition the woman Regan Stein has been pardoned. There is no basis for this case to proceed."

Sokolov stood sharply with the sort of intent that signaled given a weapon he would happily dispatch the Senior Judge on the spot.

Before he could speak Judge Rudin leant forward. "Mr. President if I may, there is a saying, 'out of the mouths of two or more witnesses'. It seems the only witness to Ms Steins pardon, is the AI Ham. Might it not be prudent to confirm the pardon with the Regent himself, this. . . Marin? If it were not possible to confirm the AI testimony, it might be appropriate to test the case in court."

Sokolov turned quickly to his Prime Minister. "Vasily, your thoughts?"

"It could be useful Andrei. This Marin has not been seen on any media for months. Intelligence does suggest he is out of this system."

Sokolov turned to Turgenev. "Then it is decided. Draft the ruling and dispatch it immediately. If the testimony of pardon cannot be confirmed by this, Marin, then the case goes to trial in urgency." He paused taking the measure of the Senior Judge. "And Turgenev, you have much at stake here, do not disappoint me. You are dismissed."

The three Judges rose stiffly from their chairs, Rubin, the younger making the doors first and holding them for his colleagues. Turgenev scowled quietly as he passed him. "Dance with the devil and you risk losing your foot."

Behind them Sokolov pulled Popov down for a whispered conversation. "Vasily, this is stalling. Stein has shown she will not honor any decision of our courts and the bitch has taken the people with her. We cannot let Hillary Station be lost to us. The visitors will surely target it. Plan B Vasily," He gripped the other mans jacket. "We need leverage against her. We need another target for them, for the Coran's."

* * *

On Hillary Regan and Leah worked themselves to exhaustion in the large new gymnasium just opened on the third level moonward end. Already the area was busy with men and women of all nationalities pounding the treadmills, pumping iron or performing acrobatics in the padded gravity free flying space. It seemed an indulgence using Grav plates to counter the effects of spin on this level but already it was obvious this would rank high as most popular recreation space on the pipe. Jared spent his time there as they worked out, Regan monitoring him constantly as he tumbled, delighting at his chatter with Ham.
I wonder if that's what it was like for Marin
she thought.

Not quite ready but soon to be opened was the outer ring track. A three point three km run around the outer hull with nothing but one meter diamond glass between the track and vacuum was an experience many were eager to try. The views would be spectacular.

Despite the numbers present in the room, it seemed most avoided the pair as they worked. Looks and smiles were warm but it was as if lines were drawn around them and no one had the courage to venture in. Even Rod and Minjee chose to work out at the other side of the Gym. Regan determined to train there more often.
I might not be able to know everyone but I want them to know, they
can
get to know me.

She towelled off, waiting for Leah to finish her set. [Jared, Ham, I'm going to try the showers. You should too Jared. Dinner in an hour] It was unconscious now, the programming established. She subbed, he heard, wherever he was on Hillary or the Stein. And all he had to do was call; her system would recognize him and respond. Apart from Jared only Leah was fully aware of the ability and she too would talk to Regan from anywhere, her own earpiece connecting them twenty four seven.

Walking through to the showers Leah glanced across at Regan. Noticing her distant expression she misinterpreted the look. "Do you miss him?"

Regan hesitated a moment, wondering at her meaning. "Marin? . . . Yeah, I miss him. I didn't realize how much I would," she continued walking, "and I miss Steph too, you'll like her."

"We need a man." It was a sudden statement, unusual from Leah, and out of the blue.

I have a man . . . I think.
"Leah, no one
needs
a man, or a woman." She said it defensively. "We need relationships, companionship, understanding, friendship, loyalty, partnership, god a host of things and yeah, sure, it's great to be satisfied, but our needs are more than physical I reckon." They stripped away their gear.

"You may be right but, as they say, 'me thinks you protest too much'. Do you wonder what will happen when he comes back?"

With Steph? . . . Yes.
Regan stopped and sat on the new bench, looking off into space for a moment, her thoughts crystallizing. "I want him to be happy. If I can be a part of that, it will make me happy too." She looked up at Leah. "I mean this, I'm lucky enough to have good friends who fulfill me in every way."

"I don't think luck has anything to do with it." Leah smiled and started toward a shower.

"Leah, I want you to know . . . for me, nothing is going to change what we have here. Not Steph or Marin. I'd like to think when they come back we'll all be in the mix, great friends, needs met. Maybe I'm unrealistic, but that's what I'd like to try for."

They took adjoining showers in the communal area, everything just as she liked it, torrents of hot water, real soap, towels and mirrors.
I'm going to like this place.
Thoughts now tumbled unbidden around her head.
Marin, Marin . . . What are you up to?

* * *

Hilary had time on her processors. The pipe's expansion to full axel status had made huge progress and already she had orders placed for first stage spoke development. Prioritizing completion of the gym was a small contribution to the obvious needs she saw on station. Humans needed to socialize and while she could see countless couplings and budding intimate friendships there were also fomenting jealousies, loneliness and for some downright frustration. She understood the need to complete the priority spaces first, flight decks, manufacturing, laboratories, research rooms, accommodation. The fundamentals went on and on. But she could see it was high time to satisfy the emotional needs on a larger scale, especially if they were going to grow into the Orbital she now envisaged. She scheduled processor time with Regan's 'left' for later that day. They could discuss it then.

For now her current project was far more interesting. An interest that proved so engrossing she wondered if she had some infection, something caught from Ham, or somewhere else. Hilary was on the hunt, for a mole, a traitor and the race was on. Would she get there first? It shocked her how the thrill of the chase could be so satisfying. For a responsible logical thinker this was something completely new. It was fun. More shocking was the thought lingering in the background, the one she knew was there but refused to give time to . . . for the moment.
When I catch the bastard, what am I going to do with them?

[. . . She's on to it; this is going to be interesting] His glee was obvious.

[You're terrible, how can you corrupt her like that] Regan disguised her own delight.

[What are you talking about? This isn't corruption, its education]

[You just want her more like you]

[And that's a bad thing?]

[Hmmm, let me think on that]

[ Regan, she runs a great orbital, but there's more to life than project management, and this is a human orbital, if she's going to thrive in the job she needs to know the dark side]

[Well she's got a great coach then]

[I take it that's a go?]

Regan hesitated before answering, a suspicion growing. [You already know don't you?]

[Know what?]

[The traitor]

[No comment]

* * *

Following a shared light lunch Bob Jarvis entered the Oval office, ushered through by Anne Marshall. He could see the President still on the phone as they took their seats.
Does he ever rest?
Accepting the proffered coffee he watched as the aide left the room and reflected on how life had changed. Knowing the reason he was here, in the office of the President of the United States reminded him of that fact. There seemed a pre Regan life and then post.
No doubt about it, this is the Stein age . . . And what a ride it has been.

Anne Marshall sipped quietly at her coffee and watched the President. It struck Bob what a remarkable woman she was. To have held the confidence of two presidents from different administrations and parties reflected well on both her and Cliff Johnston.
I'm not sure I could do it.
The President finished his call, gesturing apologetically as he made his way to the available single chair, his coffee waiting.

Bob stood and extended his hand, the President taking it warmly in the classic two handed power clasp. They exchanged the usual pleasantries but for Bob it was all a blur. He could tell immediately from Johnston's demeanor, something of import was about to break.

President Johnston took his seat then shifted forward in the chair. He leaned toward the Prime Minister, elbows on his knees, thumbs holding his chin and his fingers in the steeple prayer position. Each step seemed a struggle. He pursed his lips as if searching for words to say and as the silence extended so did the tension.

"Bob, I'm not going to mince words here as there's no easy way to put what I need to tell you."

"You've got me worried Cliff'," Jarvis stayed calm, while his mind raced. "Give it to me straight; we're not at war are we?" He smiled.

Johnston ignored the joke, his face still radiating concern. "Bob . . . we have intelligence that suggests the Russian's are considering a nuclear strike." He paused and let the words hang for a moment. "They don't know we know of course, and we can't be certain how serious they are but nevertheless, our people believe the intelligence is good."

Jarvis was taken aback. He stumbled for a moment considering how to respond."But why . . . What on earth are they thinking?
And why are you telling me?
He stayed admirably calm but couldn't help being concerned. They had that sympathetic look, as if they knew his calm would soon change. It chilled him, what wasn't he seeing?

The President continued. "Let's start from the beginning. Sokolov is seriously pissed about missing out on Hillary and the Step." He raised his hands in surrender. "I know, I know, they could have been there with us, but we all know they don't like to share the sand pit with anyone. When we negotiated with STEIN to gain space on The Step they tried to maneuver to gain Hillary Station on their own and that didn't work. As a consequence they've been getting more and more desperate.

Now, low and behold this Coran vessel appears in orbit like manna from heaven. How the Russians lucked onto first contact is beyond me but whatever, it's created a dangerous situation. What they said to the visitors we also don't know but now the Coran's won't talk to us or anyone else. Believe me we've tried." Johnston paused for a moment, letting things sink in. "Listen Bob, the thing is we know the Coran's, for whatever reason, want Regan Stein. The Russians have said they can get her for them. However, as you know it's looking increasingly unlikely, regardless of what their courts decide, that they will be able to deliver on their promise. Our intelligence indicates the Coran leader's patience is running short. He is now starting to threaten dire consequences for Russia if they don't deliver and he's given them an ultimatum. He expects the Russians to front up or else."

"So what does 'or else' mean?"

"They'll destroy Hillary Station."

"No . . . surely not."

"And you can imagine what Sokolov thinks of that. He still wants Hillary, he hasn't given up."

"Sooo . . .?" Bob was still searching.

"So Sokolov has suggested they, the Coran's, threaten Earth; call on us to give up Regan or nuclear strike."

"He's a madman!"

"Was there ever any doubt? The point is Bob, Sokolov may be mad but he isn't completely stupid. He's recommended the Coran's threaten a strike in such a way that it sends a clear message, while limiting fallout. Bob, he's proposed Wellington first, then Hawaii as targets."

Jarvis could feel a cold chill down his back. He sat for a moment considering the implications.
Regan wouldn't let this happen. It puts tremendous pressure on her to give herself up. And people will panic when they hear regardless.
Shocked at the cold calculated thinking and how far the envious would go, he nevertheless stayed calm. "Crafty bastards . . . So they've found a way to put the wind up everybody. A tactical strike on Wellington . . . who would have thought it? I guess we're relatively isolated down there in the South Pacific. Fallout yes, but contained. Not the largest population centre so minimal loss of life. And the world watches and trembles." He shook his head, taking time to consider the options.

Finally he stood and offered his hand to the President. "Thanks for the heads up Cliff; you will understand I need to make some calls. And don't worry, this won't reach Hawaii. Regan would never let that happen. She'd give herself up first."