Sofia turned to her. “Dr. Moore?”
“Neil formerly employed the woman. No one disputes this,” she said in a clinical voice. “The report says Gateway has been searched end to end, twice. It’s certainly plausible she has fled to familiar ground. Whether Neil or his staff are aware of it is immaterial.”
“Warthen provides security for my station just like everywhere else,” Neil said. “I doubt she could slip past such a vigilant staff.”
“My
staff
are denied access to anywhere but the loading dock, by your orders.”
“Which is where she would have entered from, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Gentlemen, please,” Sofia said. “Neil, the Orbital Stations Security Act, which you signed, allows for unfettered access to any station by the head of security or his representatives.”
“With the approval of this council,” Neil corrected. “Don’t lecture me on the rules of this so-called government, Sofia. I set the damn thing up after all.”
Alex took the opening. “Let’s put it to a vote then.”
They did. Five to four, in favor of giving Warthen access.
An uncomfortable silence followed. Neil drummed his fingers on the table.
Oliver Devanneaux cleared his throat. “If we could please move on to more pressing matters,” he said, quietly. His area of responsibility: consumables.
“Air and water,” Sofia said. “Certainly, proceed.”
“Nightcliff has threatened to stop shipments yet again, claiming worry over these power fluctuations, which are happening almost hourly now.” Oliver looked around at the rest of them. “They have refused our offers to assist and now have built up a backlog of nearly twenty climbers.”
“Blackfield will cave when the food runs out,” someone said.
“Alex,” Sofia said, “you met with him on Gateway. What’s your view?”
The security director shrugged. “He wants a seat on the council. You all know that.”
“Oh good,” Neil said. “
That
will fix the climbers.”
“Perhaps we should address the root cause,” Alex Warthen said. He stared directly at Neil.
A deep silence settled over the table.
Sofia finally spoke. “Which is?”
“I’ve been to Anchor Station,” the man said. “Recently. They’ve been probing the shell ship with some intensity—”
Neil snorted back a laugh. “We’ve been doing that for years,” he said.
“I’m not finished,” Alex said. He swept his gaze across the table. “These scans are the deepest they’ve ever done; one of the scientists there said so. Not only that, but I’ve been informed that Neil recently took a trip to Darwin, to purchase something from a group of smugglers.”
No one said a word. Neil felt their looks but kept his focus on Alex.
“The same smugglers,” Alex added, “who killed four guards on this very station, three days ago. If you ask me, it’s all interrelated.”
“This is rich,” Neil said. “Are the Freemasons involved, too? Go on, please.”
Alex ignored him now. He spoke to everyone else. “First Neil visits Darwin, without any council approval. In disguise, I might add. Then we find out about these ‘deep scans’ of the shell ship, which coincidently start around the same time as the odd power fluctuations. Let’s not forget the appearance of three cases of SUBS in orbit. And finally, one of Neil’s prize scientists, Tania Sharma, personally undertakes a dangerous trip outside the Aura aboard a scavenger ship. The same ship that was then brought to Gateway under dubious circumstances.”
He looked around at all of them. “I’m telling you it’s all related. Their probes of the shell ship are causing the power fluctuations, the SUBS outbreaks. Neil’s scientists are working with reckless abandon. This investigation should be centered on two places: Platz Station, and Anchor Station.”
Neil swallowed. He scarcely remembered the offhand remark made by the researcher at Anchor about doing a detailed scan of the shell ship. The damned thing was derelict and everyone knew it. The mapping effort was completely innocuous and unrelated, but that didn’t matter. Alex had seized the bit of information and now used it in bloody clever fashion.
To his credit, Alex pressed the attack. “Russell Blackfield, in my opinion, has every right to worry. The power blips are an annoyance right now, but they are getting worse. A climber falling back to Earth would drop on Nightcliff like a bomb.”
“They can’t fall, you
idiot
,” Neil said. “Their state of rest is to grip. My engineers aren’t fools.”
“We have only your word,” the man replied. “An independent review—”
“Now you’re just being an asshole,” Neil said. He glanced at the rest of the council. “He and Russell are pigs in a blanket. He’s just jockeying to get Blackfield to this table.”
“Is it not obvious,” Alex said, “to everyone here, that Nightcliff is critical to this equation? Take a deep breath if you don’t believe me. Feel the air in your lungs. Go on, sip your water.”
No one said anything.
Alex stood and put his hands on the table. “This council, the nine of us, is only fifty percent of the picture. Russell Blackfield, right now, controls the other half. It’s too much power to put in one man’s hands. You’ve heard of the riots down there? Let me tell you, it’s us they curse, not him. We will take the blame for all this unless we get him here.”
Sofia spoke with abundant patience. “Neil, your thoughts? Does Russell have the people of Darwin behind him?”
“Of course,” said Neil, focusing on her. “All they know of orbit comes through him. Other than Alex and Michael, who here has visited Earth in the last six months? Gone
outside
the fortress in the last year?”
Silence in the room.
Neil went on. “I was there two weeks ago, that is true. Arranging—”
“Arranging a purchase from smugglers,” Alex said.
“Critical information for my researchers,” Neil shot back.
“Right. We’re all looking forward to the fruits of your discoveries up at Anchor Station, Neil. I’m sure our grandchildren will be anxiously awaiting it, too.”
“Gentlemen, please!” Sofia said, smacking the table with the palm of her hand. “Alex, you had something to say earlier.”
He placed his hands on the table in front of him. “This would be easier to resolve if Blackfield had a seat at this table. It would make him one-tenth the equation, not one-half. It’s worth it.”
Neil grunted. “We’re not going to vote on this
again,
are we?”
“The situation has changed. Blackfield isn’t just a gatekeeper anymore. He runs the whole place and has solidified his power.” Alex looked at each of them in turn, except Neil. “Like it or not, he and the fortress are critical to our well-being. Better to bring him into our circle—”
“Not a chance,” Neil said, voice deep and loud. “Remove him from power immediately and install someone we can control.”
Everyone began talking at once.
Alex shouted over them. “I will not send my security forces to subjugate Nightcliff—”
“Perhaps we have another personnel change to make, then,” Neil said.
“Get used to losing council votes today, Neil.”
Neil said nothing. The conversation at the table finally dwindled.
“His hold on Nightcliff is too strong,” Alex said. “It would cost a lot of lives and precious resources to try to oust him. Especially when the alternative is to simply let him sit here at this table.”
Neil turned to the other council members. “Where he can extend his power to orbit as well.”
“Where we can control him. The price for his entry would be that this council’s authority expands to include Nightcliff and Darwin. Bend him to our agenda,” Alex said.
Neil shook his head. “He’d never agree to that, and you know it.”
There came a knock at the door.
“Come,” said Sofia.
Neil’s secretary peered in and, on the beckoning of Sofia, entered the room and went straight to Neil. She whispered in his ear for a few seconds, and then stood straight.
“I request a recess,” Neil said. “I’ve some important business to attend to.”
Sofia glanced at each of the members in turn. Alex seemed on the verge of arguing. Then he sat.
Sofia bowed her head to Neil. “It’s three p.m. now. We will reconvene after dinner, at eight.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Anchor Station
7.FEB.2283
Tania waited anxiously at the desk in her room.
Her terminal displayed a detailed image of the object now approaching Earth. The high-resolution picture, taken the previous night by the main telescope, left no doubt as to what it was.
Ten minutes after she had first contacted Neil’s secretary, he finally picked up the communicator on the other end.
“Sorry,” he said between gasps, “didn’t want to take it on the station. Too many of Warthen’s goons around. I jogged all the way to my climber.”
“That’s okay,” Tania said. “Are you alone then?”
“As much as I can be. Let’s have it. There’s nothing coming, is there? All of this has been for naught?”
She hesitated, tripped by the uncharacteristic pessimism in his voice.
“I knew it,” he said. “The Aura failing, that’s the next event. Goddamn—”
“There’s another shell ship coming,” she said.
Neil missed a beat. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Tania said. “Exactly like the one we have here at Anchor, as far as I can tell.”
A long silence followed. “Is it headed for Darwin?”
“Impossible to know,” Tania said. “We need more time.”
After a few more seconds, he said, “Well, what
do
we know?”
“It’s rather close,” she said. “Natalie is trying to re-task the telescope for another shot tonight, which will tell us how fast it is moving, but not its rate of deceleration.”
“How long will that take to work out?”
Tania thought about it. “Three or four days, I think.”
“Why so long?” Neil asked.
“We’re sharing telescope time up here. The others are going to get suspicious if we keep changing the tasking program.”
“Who else is using the scope?”
“Greg,” she said. “Greg and Marcus.”
“I’ll send them a note,” he said. “Something suitably cryptic, telling them that their project is on hold and to give you full run of the thing.”
His ability to take such monumental news and immediately turn to practical issues amazed her. “I thought you’d be more excited,” she said.
A weary sigh came through the earpiece. “I’d convinced myself that the failing Aura was our next Builder event. Hell, it might still be.”
His tone confused her. Every time they talked it was like he’d already accepted that the Builders would keep returning, in some endless series. She reminded herself whom she was speaking to. Neil had a laser focus on the future, on opportunities and consequences. He wasn’t one to let events simply happen, to relish in the act of discovery.
“Things are not going well down here,” he went on. “The council is about ready to cave to Russell Blackfield’s demands. We’re going to have to act swiftly, before he gets a toehold.”
Tania felt her heart beat faster at the mention of Blackfield. A vision flashed in her mind, of Anchor Station crossed with the quarantine room at Nightcliff. She clutched the zipper on her jumpsuit and pulled it all the way up.
“Things are going to happen very quickly, Tania. We need to be ready.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, dear.”
Tania swallowed, and closed her eyes. “Did you know about the data in Toyama, before I asked for it?”
“Pardon me?” he said. “Of course not. What’s this about?”
“But you’d been to the telescope.”
“I don’t think so—”
“I saw a picture,” she said. “You and my father, standing in front of it.”
“Perhaps you’re mistaken?” he said. “Or, who knows … your father and I funded dozens of science facilities in our heyday. It may have slipped my mind.”
Tania could hear the lie in his voice. A subtle change in tone, something that took a lifetime of friendship to detect. “Perhaps so,” she said, staring at the picture in front of her. The time did not seem right to confront him. He might have simply forgotten.
“If it makes you feel better,” he said, “I can check our records.”
“No, forget it,” she said.
“Stay focused, dear.”
“I’d feel better if I knew the plan.”
“You will,” he said, “when it’s safe to tell you. But the critical piece of the puzzle is that ship. The what, when, and where.”
“I promise you’ll know as soon as I do,” she said.
“Good. And Tania?”
“Yes?”
“Watch yourself. Warthen tried to spook the council with talk of ‘secret research.’ Don’t forget he still runs the security staff there.”
“We’re being careful,” Tania replied. It almost sounded true.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Gateway Station
7.FEB.2283
Secluded within his personal climber, Neil lay in a plush chair and let his mind drift back to the Elevator’s arrival.
Darwin had almost twelve years to grow around the Elevator at Nightcliff before the plague came. There was extraordinary luck in the location of it—an easily defensible piece of land, bordered on two sides by ocean, in a small but prosperous city within a nation at peace with the world. It couldn’t have been better, for Earth and for the Platz legacy.
Neil pictured the Darwin Elevator, stretching up from Australia, static electricity roiling along its length due to friction from the atmosphere. On up into space, through Gateway Station, and up, and up, and up, all the way to Anchor. To the shell ship.
And then he envisioned another. Another shell ship, floating into position next to its sibling. What purpose would it serve? Spin a mirror image of the original, all forty thousand kilometers of it? System redundancy—it made a kind of sense.
The first Elevator was faltering. Power seemed to be running out. A replacement, perhaps? A real possibility as far as Neil was concerned.
Whatever the case, he knew what must be done: regain control of Nightcliff.
And the council.
To achieve his goal, he needed more resources in orbit. More workers, more fighters, more weapons. He was getting old, and things were going too slowly. He cursed himself for relinquishing power in the first place.