Tania returned to her cabin only an hour before the morning cycle would begin. She closed and locked the door, then went straight to her terminal.
After a long series of chimes, Neil answered her call.
“Have you got something?” he asked immediately.
“The logs are genuine. For the most part the information is mundane, trivial. Your basic satellite tracking logs.”
“I haven’t had my tea yet, dear. Cut to it.”
“I have found an interesting anomaly.” Tania almost said “we.” She took a long breath and then exhaled.
“Which is what?” Neil asked.
“It may be nothing,” Tania said. “Something marked as an ‘unknown entity,’ standard classification when something new pops up. In this case, though, there is a handwritten note to go with it: ‘Abnormal vector,’ and instructions to confirm with an A. R. Shu, at the Keck telescope. It’s dated August 2277.”
“What does abnormal vector mean?”
“A trajectory that doesn’t match the typical objects that cross our path,” she said. “Satellites in orbit follow certain paths. Comets and so forth come from fairly predictable angles.”
Five seconds passed. “A year before the SUBS began,” Neil said, to himself mostly. “Did you get a position? Somewhere to look?”
“It’s only listed twice,” she said, “and these logs don’t contain that kind of detail. Just vector analysis, the positions must have been stored elsewhere. What we need are the finer details.”
“A. R. Shu.”
“Seems like our best chance,” Tania said.
“Anything in the old data vaults about this person?”
“A bit of luck there,” she said. “Nothing on this subject specifically. Most of the data we’ve collected from NASA is rocket schematics and procedure manuals. However, we also have their employment records, and I found an Andrew Ryoko Shu.”
“If you tell me we need an expedition to America …”
“The mainland, no,” Tania said. “Our Mr. Shu was stationed at the University of Hawaii, in Hilo. They had a contract to store all the data for Keck.”
She could hear Neil preparing tea in the background, and waited. “Okay,” he said at last, “I’ll get my team on it. Just tell me which cubes you need, and they’ll get it.”
“It’s not that simple. According to the archives, they were still using antiquated storage techniques, crude even by the standards of their time. The equipment is likely to be massive. Heavy.”
Neil grunted. “I see.”
They both went quiet for a while.
“I’m hoping you’ll say something, here,” Neil said.
Tania snorted. “The best option is to try to get their data center online, search for the data we need, and make a copy there.”
Now Neil laughed. “Do you have any idea how unlikely it is that any of that equipment still works?”
“It’s an underground data vault. According to the archive, a microthorium reactor was installed in 2112 for backup power. It should still be purring away. With a few hours of work, and the right equipment, it should be possible.”
“We need to supply them with a portable Ferrine array, too? Jesus.”
Tania hesitated. Only a few Ferrine arrays still existed. They’d been designed in orbit, after the disease, for the purpose of interfacing with as many different systems as possible. The complex, fragile devices had been invaluable in syphoning old data before such ventures became too risky.
“Yes.” She dropped her voice. “And someone to operate it.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“It’s a complex task,” Tania said. “These scavengers you hire would not be capable of it.”
“Who, then?”
Tania bit down on her lower lip. “We recruit a data tech, someone from Green Level—”
“No way,” Neil said, “not going to happen.”
“Well, it’s me then. Or Natalie.”
“I thought we’d talked about her already. Keep her out of it.”
“Yes,” Tania said, “about that. She caught me red-handed. I had to tell her.”
“Oh, Tania …”
She sighed. “She was an enormous help. We can trust her. And, for what it’s worth, it feels good to have a friend I can confide in up here.”
Tania could hear Neil’s breathing on the other end of the line. Short and sharp. She waited, letting it return to normal.
“I don’t want to send you down there, Tania,” Neil said. “It’s far too risky.”
“I can’t ask her to go. I think it has to be me. And besides, these days it’s risky just leaving my room.”
Neil didn’t respond. She waited, and waited more.
“Neil?”
“I’m thinking.”
Tania said, “You don’t have to decide now.”
“No, no. I can’t think of any other way to do this, and there’s no time to waste,” he said. “Get on the next transport down. I’ll start making the arrangements.”
She balled her fists to stop them from shaking. A trip to Earth. A trip beyond Aura’s Edge. I must be crazy, Tania thought. Yet no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, the allure of a genuine discovery called. “On my way,” she said.
“And Tania,” Neil added, “if anyone asks, you’re just coming to a meeting on Platz Station. I’ve briefed Zane; he’ll confirm that. You’ll need to stop here anyway.”
“Why?”
“You’re going to need a disguise.”
Chapter Fourteen
Darwin, Australia
26.JAN.2283
“Nice and easy, Angus.” Skyler peered out the dirty cockpit window and watched the twenty-meter-tall barricade of Nightcliff’s northern edge passed beneath them. A few guards patrolled the top of the structure, between missile batteries placed at regular intervals.
Angus placed a hand over his headset microphone. “Between you and the control tower, I get the idea.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Skyler said. “I’m a bit nervous about this mission.”
Angus barked a laugh. “You don’t say.”
“Cleared for staging pad four heading zero niner zero,” a voice said over the cockpit radio.
“Copy, tower,” Angus said, “landing pad four at zero niner zero.”
He slowed the craft even more and turned slightly toward a grid of landing pads just beyond the wall. Vertical thrusters howled under the strain.
“Angus,” Skyler said.
“I’m a bit busy.”
“Head for landing pad four.”
Angus shook his head and chuckled. “Such a wanker.”
“This insubordination is intolerable.”
“Discipline is in order, I think,” said Samantha, listening from the main cabin’s intercom.
“Agreed,” said Skyler. “Angus, I’m adding five demerits to your record.”
“Bullshit,” Angus said. “You keep records?”
“Of course. Highly detailed.”
Angus began to descend toward the landing pad. “How many demerits am I up to?”
“Let’s see,” Skyler said. “Five.”
“What about me?” asked Samantha.
Skyler checked over each shoulder to make sure nothing was in Angus’s blind spots. “Two thousand, four hundred twenty.”
The craft gently settled onto the asphalt pad. Hydraulic landing skids creaked as they took on the weight.
“Tower, this is the Melville. We’re secure on pad four,” said Angus.
“Copy, Melville,” came the voice. “Off engines and prepare for crane attach.”
Angus repeated the order and cut power to all four of the ducted-fan engines.
Behind their ship, an old construction crane mounted on huge treads began to approach them. Skyler could just see the mechanical beast over his shoulder.
He removed his helmet as the engines wound down. “Sam?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Be serious now. Prep the hook, and tell Jake to be ready at the rear door.”
“Expecting a search before the mission?”
“No. We’re taking on a passenger.”
Angus glanced back, surprised. “What?”
“The hell you say?” Sam asked.
“Not the time, guys,” Skyler said. Platz, by way of Prumble, had been very clear that the mission details should be kept secret as long as possible. “Sam, the hook, please?”
“This is a really stupid fucking move, Skyler,” she said. “No taxi jobs, that’s always been the rule. The risk—”
“Is worth the reward,” Skyler barked. “This is not up for discussion.”
He took her lack of response as tacit acknowledgment and turned his focus to the water hauler on the adjacent landing pad. Through a misting rain Skyler saw a work crew wearing blue overalls approaching the massive craft. One of them, in the center of the group, moved differently than the rest. No swagger, Skyler realized. That must be her.
“Jake,” Skyler said into his headset.
There was some rustling on the other end. “Go ahead.”
“Be ready on the hatch. Open it on my mark.”
“Understood,” Jake said.
The crew approached pad three, where the massive water hauler rested. The ungainly blue aircraft somewhat resembled a fish skeleton—a huge empty cavity behind the cockpit, surrounded by beams with special couplings that allowed it to pick up and carry a water container the size of a city bus. Two of the workers wrangled a thick hose toward a receptacle on the edge of the pad. They both got on hands and knees to inspect the connection, poring over every last inch of it.
Skyler had seen better acting in school plays.
A third member of the crew pretended to supervise the work, his attention focused not on the crew but the nearby buildings. The fourth Skyler kept a close watch on.
“Here’s the crane,” Angus said.
Skyler spun in his seat, looking to the other side of his ship. A large construction crane pushed through the mist, red warning lights flashing. It loomed over them, obstructing whatever view the control tower had of their ship.
“Hook is prepped,” Samantha said in his ear.
Skyler said, “Good. Help Jake please.”
“With what?”
“Get our guest on board,” Skyler said, “and the hatch closed, quick as you can.” He tried to keep his voice even. Inside his heart hammered.
He could hear Samantha’s exhale through the headset. “And if we get inspected again, glorious leader?”
He hadn’t considered that. “We’ll say … we found an immune. Get ready.”
“We’re ready,” said Jake. All business, as usual.
Skyler turned back to the crew working on pad three. The woman moved to the back of the crew’s small maintenance cart and removed an oversized briefcase. She turned then and walked swiftly to the Melville. Too quickly, Skyler thought, but it would have to do.
“Mark,” Skyler said.
He could feel the reverberation as Jake and Samantha opened the hatch. Over the intercom, he heard muffled voices.
Another vibration rolled through the ship as the cargo door closed and sealed.
Their guest had arrived.
It took almost ten minutes for the crane to lift the Melville off the ground and carry it to the climber loading facility at the center of Nightcliff.
“Angus, can you finish this?” Skyler asked.
“No problem.”
Skyler unlatched his harness and climbed from his seat. Crouching, he moved to the back of the cramped cockpit and headed into the cargo area.
Jake and Samantha stood in awkward silence next to the most beautiful woman Skyler had ever seen.
She had jet-black hair, tied back, and smooth dark skin. Indian, or Sri Lankan, he guessed. Her eyes were laced with amber and gleamed with intelligence.
Jake held his flight helmet in his hands, passing it rapidly from one to the other. Samantha had her hands clasped behind her back, her feet crossed. They both stared at the woman openly.
She clutched a silver briefcase like a firstborn child and brightened to see another person enter the cargo bay.
“Are you the captain?” Her voice had a depth to it, not like a man’s, but deep enough to imply maturity.
He tipped his cap to her. “I often wonder that myself.”
She extended a hand. “Tania Sharma. Research director, Anchor Station.”
“Where’s that?” Samantha asked.
“About forty klicks above our heads,” Jake said.
“Forty thousand klicks, actually,” Tania said.
Jake just nodded, transfixed.
“Skyler Luiken, at your service. Welcome to the Melville.” He took Tania’s hand and shook it. “This is my sniper, Jake, and my ops specialist, Samantha.”
Sam stood a head taller than the woman. Despite herself, she smiled slightly. It took her only a fraction of a second to hide it again.
“You’re an Orbital,” Jake said.
Tania turned to him. “Yes,” she said with patience. “Anchor Station is in orbit.”
The three of them stared at her. She looked from one to the other, becoming more self-conscious by the second.
“Is something wrong?” Tania asked.
Skyler snapped out of his trance. “It’s not often we have a guest, is all.”
The lovely woman frowned, but nodded all the same.
“What’s in the case?” asked Sam.
