Solfleet: The Call of Duty (93 page)

“I know no
such thing, Commander,” Hansen contended as he stood up and stepped over to his
window. The station had been turned and his view of the Earth was gone,
replaced by that of millions upon millions of stars. How poetic, he thought.
The Earth...gone, with only the stars remaining and no vessels in sight. Was
that what the future held for Earth, her colonies, and the Coalition as a
whole? Was that to be their fate?

“Write the
message, Commander,” he instructed, “but don’t send it. If it’s to be done, the
responsibility will be mine and mine alone.”

Royer took his
place behind his desk, went to work, and finished in barely a minute.

“It’s ready, Admiral,” she advised him, moving aside for him but not yet
relinquishing his chair. He stepped over to her side and read what she had
written.

TO:
Commander, Station X-ray One.

FROM:
Commander, Solfleet Intelligence Agency.

AUTHORITY:
Commanding Officer, Solfleet.

SUBJECT:
Confirmation of Orders.

BODY: Agent’s orders are
officially confirmed.

“Short and
sweet,” he commented. “Directly to the point.”

“That’s
exactly what Commander Akagi would expect from Admiral Chaffee, sir,” she
pointed out, looking up at him. “Even though the response is coming from this
office, which I’m sure he won’t be very happy about.”

“And just
like that we rewrite history. Maybe.”

“We
save
history,
sir,” Royer corrected. “If not for ourselves then for our counterparts in an alternate
timeline, depending on which theory is the right one. All you have to do is
send the message.” Hansen stood there, staring down at the ‘send’ pad just
beneath the lower right corner of the screen. But he didn’t move to touch it. “Sir?”

“What about
our people assigned to look for the lieutenant’s message?” he asked.

“Already in
position and standing by, sir. And they’ve all got crypto-links, so they can
notify you directly by comm-link if they find something.”

His office
door suddenly flew open with a whine at twice its normal speed and a vaguely
familiar voice called out, “Admiral Hansen.”

Hansen and
Royer both looked up to find Chairman MacLeod and a young, clean cut and very well
dressed gentleman approaching them. A pair of uniformed Military Policemen—one
a fairly large and muscular Asian squad sergeant in his early to mid twenties,
the other an even younger white female sergeant of average size and build—came
in behind them and took up positions on either side.

“Chairman
MacLeod,” Hansen began angrily as he stepped out from behind his desk.

“Vice-Admiral
Icarus Hansen...”

“Yes, Mister
Chairman, as you well know, and this happens to be my private office, and that door
you just came through without the courtesy of buzzing first was closed for a reason.
Now, I don’t know who you think you are, but I would appreciate it if you
wouldn’t just...”

MacLeod held
a data chip out in front of him. “Yes, Admiral. Complaint noted,” he said as he
and his party came to a halt halfway across the room. “This chip contains presidential
arrest warrants for both you and Commander Royer.”

Hansen and
Royer exchanged a look that only they as longtime colleagues would know how to
interpret.

“The
gentleman to my right is Special Agent Krieger of the C-I-D,” MacLeod informed
them. Then he faced the agent and said, “Agent Krieger, let’s get this over with,
shall we.”

Krieger took
a single step forward and slightly in front of MacLeod, but before he could say
anything Hansen stepped up to him, looked him dead in the eye, and said, “You’re
orders, Agent, are to turn around and escort the chairman and his party out of
my office immediately.”

The young
agent hesitated, swallowed hard, then began, “Sir, I...”

“Make your
choice, son,” Hansen told him.

The agent
hesitated again, for a moment, then did just that. “Admiral, by direct order
and authority of the President of the United Earth Federation, I hereby place
you, Vice-Admiral Icarus Hansen...” He met Royer’s eyes as well, just long
enough to address her, “...and you, Commander Elizabeth Royer...” then looked
back at Hansen again, “...under arrest for willful violation of the
Brix-Cyberclone Cessation Act of twenty-one sixty-two. Sergeants, take them
into custody.”

“Sir,” the
squad sergeant began as he approached Hansen, “please turn around and place
your hands on top of your head.”

“You, too,
Commander,” the buck sergeant added as she started toward Royer. “Stand up,
turn around, and place your hands on top of your head.”

It was all
over. More than six years of worrying that they’d one day be arrested for what
they had done, of wondering whether or not he would make it to retirement, had
finally come to an end. Strangely enough, an almost intoxicating sense of
relief filled his spirit as he complied with the Military Policeman’s
instructions. They’d broken the law—the two highest laws of their world, in
fact—and inevitably the law had finally caught up with them. There had been
times along the way when he’d almost wished for it. Now he knew why.

But Royer
wasn’t so ready to cooperate. At first she remained defiantly seated, but when
the buck sergeant came around the desk and grabbed her by the arm like she was
some kind of common criminal she suddenly sprang to her feet and yelled, “Get
your fucking hands off me!” and then shoved the younger woman away from her so
hard that she almost fell backwards to the floor.

“As ease,
Commander!” Hansen hollered as the squad sergeant cuffed his hands behind his
back. But when the sergeant moved in on her for the second time, much more
aggressively than before, Royer expertly countered her attempts to grab her by
the arms and then spun around with lightning speed and kicked her square in the
chest, launching her back into the small bookshelf against the wall with a loud
crash. Then she lunged for the comm-panel.

The squad
sergeant practically threw Hansen into Krieger’s hands and then jumped up into
one of the visitor’s chairs, launched himself over the desk, and tackled Royer
to the floor as though she were the opposing quarterback in a football game,
but not before she managed to thumb the ‘send’ pad and delete the confirmation
message from the screen. Within seconds of that, the MPs had Royer face down on
the floor with her arms cuffed securely behind her.

Krieger
tapped the comm-link pinned to his suit coat collar. “Communications Center,
this is Special Agent Krieger of the C-I-D. Intercept and suspend all communications
outgoing from the S-I-A’s offices in the last minute, and advise me as to their
contents.”

“
Understood,
sir. Stand by.
” And a few seconds later, “
Special Agent Krieger, this is
the Comm-Center. There have been no outgoing signals from any terminal at that
location in the last minute.
”

“Are you
sure about that?”

“
Confirmed,
sir. No communications in or out in the last minute. In fact, according to my
logs, there haven’t been any outgoing signals from there in over an hour.
”

“All right.
Keep an eye out for any that might have been set for delayed transmission.
Krieger out.” He tapped his comm-link off, then gestured for the MPs to pick
Royer up off the floor. As soon as they had her back on her feet and facing
him, he asked, “What did you just do on that panel, Commander?”

“Nothing,”
Royer lied.

“Don’t
insult my intelligence, Commander. We all saw you.”

“I don’t
know what you’re talking about, Mister Krieger.”

He exhaled
loudly. “No. Of course you don’t,” he said, obviously having expected to get
exactly that kind of response. No doubt he expected the same from Hansen as
well, but he still had to ask. He faced him. “Admiral Hansen, what was on your
screen?”

“Sorry,
Mister Krieger,” Hansen said after thinking about it for a few seconds. “I
would tell you, but I couldn’t see it from here.” He needed time to think.

“Of course
you couldn’t.” He turned to MacLeod. “Let’s get them out of here, sir.”

“One moment
please, Mister Krieger.” MacLeod moved to the front of Hansen’s desk, reached
across to the comm-panel, and pressed a couple of pads. “This is Chairman
MacLeod to the Military Police patrol supervisor.”

“
Go
ahead, sir.
”

“We have
both subjects in custody, Sergeant. Please clear the designated corridors of
all traffic at this time.”

“
Affirmed,
sir. You should be clear to move in about two minutes or so.
”

“Thank you,
Sergeant. MacLeod out.”

The door
chimes played their short melodic song, but the tune fell on deaf ears. A few
seconds later they played a second time, and then a third, before they finally drew
Karen out of the romantic, not to mention very erotic virtuavision drama she’d
been thoroughly engrossed in for the past hour and a half. Liz was going to
love it...if she ever found the time to watch it.

Karen paused
her program and switched off the display. “I’m coming,” she called out as she
stood up. She tied off her jade-green Japanese silk mini-robe as she approached
the door—Liz had bought the beautiful, dragon-adorned garment for her at the
same time she’d bought her own pearl-white one, and she loved it—then checked
herself out in the full-length mirror.

The chimes
played one more time before she finally tapped the intercom.

“Who is it?”

“Military
Police, ma’am,” the answer came. “Open the door, please.”

Military
Police? What could they...Oh God! Liz! She slapped the ‘open’ button. Two young
women in tactical Military Police uniforms—all black, heavy duty coveralls and
TAC vests—each adorned with a pair of silver-gray chevrons on the left sleeves—lance
corporals, if she wasn’t mistaken—stood before her.

“Misses
Karen DiAngelo?” the one on the left asked. She was a fairly plain looking
woman, about Karen’s size, with blond hair nearly as bright as Liz’s pulled
straight back and rolled into a fist-sized bun.

“Yes. What
can I do for you?” Karen asked anxiously.

“You’ll have
to come with us, ma’am.”

“Why? What’s
wrong?” Then it hit her. “Oh my God. My wife, Commander Elizabeth Royer? Is she
all right?”

“We’re not
at liberty to say anything, ma’am,” the other policewoman told her. She was a
taller and probablu outweighed her by a good fifty pounds—a less attractive
woman with short brown hair brushed behind her ears and hanging loosely at her neck.
“You’ll be told all about it back at Security Control.”

“Told about
what?” Karen asked anxiously. “Can’t you just tell me if she’s all right or if
she’s hurt or...”

“She’s fine,
ma’am,” the blonde answered, “She’s been arrested, but she’s...”

“Arrested!”
Karen exclaimed. “What for?”

“We really
can’t tell you anything more than that, ma’am. Now, please, let’s go.”

“Umm, okay.
Just, uh...” She stepped away and started toward the bedroom. “Just let me put
some clothes on and...”

The MPs charged
into the room and grabbed her by the arms.

“You’re not going
anywhere by yourself, ma’am,” the stocky one said.

“Take your
hands off me!” Karen shouted, twisting herself free of their halfhearted
grasps. “How dare you put your hands on me!”

“Look, I
apologize for that, ma’am,” the blond said. “We didn’t mean to upset you, but
we can’t just let you wander into the other room by yourself. We don’t know
what you might come out of there with.”

“All I want is
to put on some decent clothes! I’m not going anywhere dressed like this!”

“That’s
fine, ma’am,” the blond conceded. “Of course you can get dressed first, but one
of us is going to have to go with you.”

“Why? Am I
under arrest, too?” Karen asked, her tone growing more challenging as her
patience began to wear thin.

The MPs
exchanged a look. Then the blond answered, “Well, no, ma’am, you’re not
actually under arrest, but...”

“Then I don’t
really
have
to go anywhere with you if I don’t want to, do I?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am,
you do.”

“The
hell
I do! You can’t just...”

“We can and
we are!” the stocky one bellowed, leaving no room for argument as she stepped closer.
“Now, you can either let one of us come with you while you change your clothes
or you can come with us as you are. But one way or the other, you
are
going
to come with us.”

Karen stared
at the heifer of a woman, sizing her up. She clearly meant what she’d said, and
the piercing look in her dark brown eyes made it clear that she would not
hesitate to grab her by the neck and drag her out if she had to. And if heifer
did that, Karen knew, she wouldn’t stand an unsuited astronaut’s chance in the
icy cold of open space against her. “Fine,” she finally said. “You can
both
come
with me for all I care.” She turned her back and headed into the bedroom.

Judging from
the footfalls behind her, it was the heifer who followed. A backward glance as
she opened the bedroom door confirmed that she’d judged correctly.

She slipped
off her robe without a second thought and tossed it onto the foot of the bed as
she walked by it on the way to her dresser. But then, as she leaned down and
opened her bottom dresser drawer, she felt the other woman’s eyes on her and that
made her uncomfortable enough that she didn’t want to leave her back turned any
longer than necessary. Problem was, she didn’t want to face the woman
bare-breasted either, so she grabbed whatever shirt happened to be on top of
the stack of neatly folded clothes—her sleeveless sky-blue half-tee—and quickly
pulled it on, then opened the top drawer and pulled on a pair of ankle socks.
Then she closed both drawers and moved to the closet for a pair of jeans. She
pulled them on and fastened them, then shooed her escort back into the living
room ahead of her.