Here Be Dragons (20 page)

Anne hesitated, but only barely.

“Yes.”

“Are their lives worth nothing to you?” Rivkah asked.

“Every human life matters a great deal to me, Doctor. Especially the six billion on Earth who will turn on each other if there is no other enemy left to fight.”

“Fuck you,” Rivkah said. “And your math.”

Anne nodded, as if that were perfectly reasonable.

“You have every right to say that.”

“Do you believe that if the world learned the truth about the outsiders today, then a war would break out tomorrow?” Ikenna asked.

“Captain Gonzales gets all the latest political reports, I’m sure. Why don’t you tell us, Captain?”

A nuclear detonation in orbit of the Earth. An attempted coup d’etat against the Global Union. Pitched battles in the streets of the Cantonese Confederation, a smoldering revolution in Britain, and a never ending drone war over Australia. The hardliners threatened violence, the Sovereigntists promised retaliation, and only one old man with white hair and tired eyes stood between them. Earth had balanced on the edge for six months, and had cut itself deeply. But it hadn’t fallen off.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“I don’t either, and I don’t want to find out,” Anne said. “All I know is that we all salute the same flag, yet you threatened to kill me over this not ten minutes ago. Are you still planning to do that, by the way?”

“What do you suggest we do? Just fly away and pretend that nothing happened?”

“Yes, I suggest that you do exactly that.
Metatron
will escort you safely through your orbit, until you begin the journey home, and then we will return to the trojans. I ask only that you allow us access to your computer core, so that we might wipe away any record that this happened.”

“How would we explain that?” Ikenna asked.

“Interference from the flare and the torus. If
Gabriel
is having half the trouble that we are, that’s not far off. Only the three of you have seen anything untoward. It needn’t go any further than that.”

“We’ve been here for an hour,” Elena said. “What am I to tell the crew?”

“You found nothing. The outsiders abandoned ship.”

“And the mysterious
Archangel
that rendezvoused with us?”

“It’s classified,” Anne said. “Need to know only.”

“People will talk,” Elena said.

“Let them. How many outlandish rumors about secret black ops have you heard in your career? What harm will one more do? The decision is yours, Captain. But the hour is growing late. For all our sakes, make it quickly.”

“What if we refuse?” Elena asked.

“Then we will return to Earth with you. There would be no point in remaining.”

“You would let us do that?”

“What could I do to stop you? I would never turn my guns on my own people, Captain.”

She looked to them, each in turn. She caught Elena’s eye last, and held it.

“So...what will it be?”

Ikenna spoke first.

“If the outsiders wish to remain, then we should respect that,” he said. “We’ve done enough to these people. They deserve to live as they choose.”

“I appreciate your compassion, Mr. Okoye.”

“And Captain? I’m sorry that I had to decline your offer. And I wish I didn’t have to leave you again.”

He held out his hand, and Anne shook it.

“I know it’s been almost three years, but there’s still time to change your mind,” she said, smiling, hand still held in his.

“I appreciate that. But I can’t abandon my captain. Not again.”

They shook once more and separated, and Anne turned to the doctor.

“You’re going to hell,” Rivkah said.

“Yes, I believe so,” Anne said. “But I’m going there alone. I won’t take the world with me.”

Rivkah’s tears had stopped, and her wet eyes were hard beneath their shine.

“Don’t lie to me. Have you killed any of them?”

Anne stepped forward, and took Rivkah’s hand. The doctor didn’t pull back.

“Never.”

Rivkah nodded, and let her hand drop. She retreated silently to the door, and Ikenna joined her. Now only Elena remained.

“Wait for me outside, please,” she said. “I will be with you shortly.”

Ikenna nodded, and stepped through the hatch. Rivkah hesitated.

“And Moishe Avramovich?” she asked.

Anne shook her head.

“As far as anyone knows, he died in Russia after the Storm, still gathering his flock.”

“So he never saw the home that he had built?”

“I’m sorry. I wish that I could tell you more.”

“They could.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Anne said. “And perhaps one day they will.”

Elena met Rivkah’s eyes, but couldn’t see what lay within them. The doctor left without another word, and she and Anne were alone.

“Those stars look good on you, Elena,” Anne said. “Youngest captain in the history of Agency, are you not?”

“I guess you expected to see me about as much as I expected to see you.”

“You said you were resigning.”

“You said you’d be back in a year,” Elena said. “Things change.”

“How is the house?”

“Empty, like you left it. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Elena, I didn’t know. Not until Ceres.”

“You had to replace Ikenna. And I’d been with the Project since the beginning.”

“Yes,” Anne said.

There was no way other way for her to say it.

“Why didn’t you take me with you?”

“It wasn’t my decision, Elena. The requirements were strict. No spouses, no children, no parents, no siblings. No one to leave behind, no ties to cut,” Anne said. “Every single officer on
Metatron
is alone.”

“You left someone behind.”

“I’m sorry, Elena. I had to do it. I couldn’t say no.”

“Ikenna said no.”

“He didn’t know the truth,” Anne said. “None of them did, until we reached the outside. He only knew that he would be committed for the duration.”

“How long did you expect to remain outside? How long were you going to make me wait?”

“It wouldn’t have been fair to expect you to wait at all.”

“I did.”

Anne stopped at that, and tilted her head the way she always did when she was surprised.

“No one?”

“How long?” Elena asked again.

“As long as necessary.”

“Oh, yes. Peace on Earth,” Elena said. “You’re right, you know. The situation back there is fucked. But do you know why?”

“
Victory.”

“Treason. You can’t bring peace by starting a war.”

“That was a mistake. One that Winston Campbell-Azzam made on his own.” Anne stared at Elena. “You shouldn’t judge Sir William so harshly. We can’t choose our family. You know that.”

Elena clenched her fists, shut her eyes, and tried to breathe. Her legs felt weak, as if they would give out at any moment, though she floated as easily as a cloud.

“Captain, if you want to have a future, then you’ll leave my past alone.”

“I’m sorry, Elena. I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought that you, of all people, would understand.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Elena turned her back and held tightly to the beam. She closed her eyes and let the cool darkness wash over her, and felt the strength return to her legs, little by little. She opened them again, but it was still night inside the bridge, and the stars had risen once more.

“Do you remember our last day together, before I took command of
Archangel
? That hotel in Tranquility City?”

Elena didn’t turn.

“Every night.”

“Me too,” Anne said. “But during the day, I’d think about when next we would meet.”

“I always thought that it would be at the house,” Elena said. “And I never imagined that we would talk to each other like this.”

Anne spoke from just over Elena’s shoulder.

“When I imagine it, we don’t do much talking at all.”

Elena turned. Anne put one hand to her cheek, and leaned in close. Her lips stopped an inch from the hollow of Elena’s neck, and she felt warm breath on her throat and hot blood rising in her face.

“What if you had died out here?” Elena asked.

“Right now, I wish I had,” Anne said. “Because then you’d never know what I did to you.”

She kissed Elena then, under the starlight. Elena surrendered, and let her hands go free. They kissed so long that they forgot to breathe, gasped for air, and kissed again. The two of them let go of the rail, and floated together in the air. Elena forgot about everything. She forgot where she was. They broke the kiss but remained melded, body to body, fitted together as if they had been made that way. Their foreheads touched, and Elena spoke to Anne’s lips.

“I watched you die.”

Anne pulled back to look her in the face.

“I rotated back over to Solstice once
Archangel
was complete. I was in the Control room when you went outside.”

“Oh, god.”

“I watched you go behind the sun, but you didn’t come back out.”

“Elena—“

“I waited. I waited for a very long time. And when we found the wreckage, I lost everything.”

“I’m sorry, Elena.” She recognized the look on Anne’s face—she had just seen it on Rivkah’s, not so long ago. It was the face of a woman who was holding back tears with both hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“But you knew you would.”

“I wish I could make it up to you.”

“You can’t give me back two years of my life.”

“But I can give you more.” Anne kissed Elena again, on her mouth, on her neck, and Elena felt her pulse pound a drumbeat beneath those lips. “Stay with me.”

“What?”

“Stay here, with
Metatron.
Help me complete the mission. And then we can go home.”

“For how long this time?”

“Does it matter? We’ll be together.”

“Sir William told you to leave me behind.”

“Fuck him,” Anne said. “He was wrong, and so was I. Let me make it right.”

Elena let her hands slide down the curve of Anne’s body, the contours that she had nearly forgotten.

“I can’t leave my crew.”

“
Gabriel
can stay. Two ships are better than one.”

“I told them they’d be home in a year,” Elena said. “And I meant it. I can’t.”

Anne exhaled, one long shuddering breath. Elena hadn’t realized Anne had been holding it in until she felt the other woman’s body rising and falling in her hands.

“And what are you going to say when you get there?”

Something wet brushed Elena’s cheek, and she raised Anne’s chin and wiped the other woman’s face gently as she spoke.

“You’ve sacrificed a lot to be here.”

“Yes.”

“You gave up everything. Your home, your career. Your fiancée. You caused me endless pain. It wasn’t until today that I realized how lost I was. I can’t even remember what normal feels like. You did all of this to us, to be here right now.”

“Yes.”

“You said you never wanted to hurt me.”

“No.”

“Answer honestly. If you had to do it all again, would you?”

Anne pulled back to look her in the eye. For a moment, Elena thought that more tears would spill. But it was a brief moment.

“Yes. I would.”

Elena leaned forward and kissed Anne again on both cheeks, lingering with her lips against cool skin. She whispered into Anne’s ear.

“Go back to your ship. I’ll lie for you, but I won’t wait for you. Not anymore.”

Anne pulled back, and their bodies peeled away from each other. They had to grab at the rail and reel themselves in.

“What if I had said no?”

Elena didn’t answer. Instead she held out her hand once more, and this time Anne shook it. When the ritual was over and professionalism had been satisfied, Anne kissed Elena one last time. Elena’s hands went to Anne’s cheek and neck and buried themselves in her hair, and she could feel a hand held to her beating heart.

“I love you,” Anne said.

It was not until Elena said it that she knew it to be true.

“I love you, too. Goodbye.”

They left the lights off, and Rabin Weizmann in his place of honor. He had earned it.

Outward Bound

Six months earlier

Elena was a hero.

She found that she had suddenly become the second most famous person in the solar system. She couldn’t log onto the globenet without seeing her own face plastered on every channel, her name on every tongue. Her officers smiled and applauded everywhere she went that first day, and hands clapped her back constantly. Glenn’s skeleton crew, most of which had known her only briefly, had queued up to shake her hand. She refused enough drinks to float
Gabriel.
Elena made the mistake of signing one autograph, after thinking that the man was joking, and suddenly found herself besieged by more requests.

They were all so proud of her—and seemingly, her alone. There had been forty four other people on
Gabriel
that day, including three that had been on the bridge with her, and she couldn’t have done anything without them. But the crew—and public at large, from what she could tell by her brief and bemused forays online—seemed only vaguely aware of this. As far as they were concerned, she had vanquished the traitors in single combat.

No one loved a drone. Nor did they love the drone wranglers, the anonymous operators who sent them into battle. The drone was too cold, too sterile, and too distant to arouse the passions. You couldn’t shake its hand. It couldn’t give you its autograph. But this battle had been fought just above their heads. A hostage situation, with a gun pointed to the head of everything in Earth orbit. Not only that, but some damned fool had leaked the claim of a nuclear threat to the press. It could have been aimed anywhere, and at any one. Rumors spread in every city in the Global Union that they had been the target, and half the planet was convinced that Elena had personally saved them from annihilation.

Not one of the news stories mentioned Hyperion-1.

There had been no question of continuing with the trial cruise, and
Gabriel
had returned to Glenn Station, where a confused and irate Chief Officer Erdogan had refused to let them dock. He had only relented when Solstice Station explained to him the situation, and it was when he heard Elena’s side of the story that his face took on the expression of naked admiration that she would come to know so well in the next few days. She had been forced to endure the well wishes of not only Glenn’s staff, but also her own crew, most of whom were seeing her for the first time since the crisis had began.

Hours later, after she had successfully parried the last offer of a drink—her unwanted companion from Election Night had reappeared, more ardent than ever—Elena had retired to her stateroom and, warily, checked her messages. Her inbox, unmanageable at most times, had simply exploded. Someone had leaked her private address, and she was stunned to see that 10,031 new messages had appeared since she had last checked it, six hours before.

Elena searched for one, and only one.

People, strangers, have been bombarding me with questions all day. At work, during lunch, on the street. They even came to my door. I thought it was a mistake, and then a joke. I could not believe they wanted to speak to me. I suddenly remembered what it was like, during the bad times, when the vultures had circled all around us. You remember those days, I am sure. But this is different, for this time I am not ashamed. I will die before I deny that you are my daughter, even to escape their relentless stalking. I don’t understand what happened today. I know only that if you did it, then it was the right thing to do. I am as proud of you as I have ever been. If you need me, I’m on the next plane. With all my love, Mama.

Her mother had not gone anywhere near Earth in fifteen years. Elena held her bracelet to her heart and crawled into her hammock to finally sleep.

Vijay rang her doorbell that night. She pretended not to hear it.

The first thing Elena did the next morning was request a new comm account. Her old one would undoubtedly be turned over to investigators, and the flooded inbox would be their problem, not hers. She resolved to hold this new account close to the chest.

Elena began to write her statement. There would be no need to report for duty, not today.
Gabriel
wasn’t going anywhere, and a ship in drydock hardly needed to be fully manned. A single duty officer on the bridge was all she needed. Elena wished that she had at least sketched her impression the day before. The three other members of the bridge staff were required to write on the
Victory
incident—her mind refused to call it a battle—as well, and more of the crew might be ordered to do so later. Significant discrepancies would lead to trouble, but she would never coach any of her own people.

When Elena was done she filed the report, and chanced the globenet once more. The first hectic day of reporting had ended, and the basic facts were well known. The Global Union’s journalists were searching for color, and more and more of their articles contained the words “Ernesto Gonzales.” The contrast must have made for good drama. Elena shut the monitor down without reading past her father’s name, laid still in her hammock, and waited.

The first visitors to arrive at Glenn Station that day were from the Office of Special Investigations. Elena had not been informed in advance, and she doubted that this had been an oversight. The agents were the first people she had met in twenty four hours who were not in the least bit impressed by her. They asked to speak to her, privately, in Chief Officer Erdogan’s office, which had once been her own. They pointedly did not mention her stateroom aboard
Gabriel
.

That depends, she said. On whether you will be speaking to me, or with me. She technically outranked them both.

With you, they assured her. That was a miscommunication.

Should I bring a lawyer, she asked. The Judge Advocate General could have one here in a few hours.

If you have done nothing wrong, they said, then you do not need a lawyer. We are only talking.

That was not a yes or a no.

It is what it is.

Am I under arrest?

Absolutely not, they said.

They assembled in Chief Officer Erdogan’s office. Elena immediately took the seat behind the desk, and waved them to the chairs in front of it. Erdogan excused himself nervously and closed the door.

They questioned her for eight hours. After two, Elena realized that they were waiting for her to break.

They asked about
Victory.
They asked about Phobos. They probed her political opinions. They examined her travel schedule. They needled her about her love life. They criticized her crew. She never broke, never snapped, never lost her temper or her patience. She listened and spoke for eight hours, and never asked for a glass of water until they did first.

After eight hours they brought the hammer down.

I didn’t realize until today that you were
that
Gonzales.

Elena stood.

We’re done here.

But we’re still talking, they said.

You can talk, she said. I’m leaving.

We can’t stop you, they said. But we can go over your head. The Director will order you to submit for questioning if necessary. And if we have to do that, round two won’t be nearly as fun.

Elena stopped and turned at the door.

See you then.

She left. Elena walked back to
Gabriel
, and for the second time in two nights collapsed into bed, exhausted. She fell deeply asleep before it occurred to her to check her messages.

That night, the doorbell did not ring.

She awoke the next morning to find that the OSI agents had disappeared. Erdogan had no idea why or where they had gone. They had left in the night without telling a soul. Elena was insulted that they hadn’t the courtesy to face her again, and she wondered why they had come at all. She had all the proof she’d needed that she’d obeyed a lawful order, and even the appropriation of the Transcom satellite could be excused under both Global law and Agency regulation. The investigators had seemed more interested in who she was than what she had done.

Elena could tell that her own people were growing restless.
Gabriel
had been grounded pending the investigation, and was now back in its dock and hooked up to the station’s systems. There was plenty work aboard ship when it was under construction, out to space, or being refitted, but this was none of the above. The crew manned their posts for each shift, but there was nothing to be done. They wondered what was going on, how long they’d be here, and why the chief wasn’t reporting for duty.

With her ship grounded, Elena was too. Every other member of the crew was also a member of a department—bridge, deck, engine, medical, and steward. But she was the commander, provisionally, for one flight only, and that flight had been canceled. Elena was, in Space Agency euphemism, “awaiting orders.” Until she was officially given a new assignment, she was in limbo.

Technically she was no longer entitled to the use of her own stateroom, but no one aboard
Gabriel
or Glenn would have said such a thing to her. Elena did not dare her leave the cabin, which would have forced her to look at the ship and the crew that were hers no longer. She stayed in her hammock, reading shift reports that had been dutifully and pointlessly filed, feeling hemmed in by the bare walls. She had not even removed her spacesuit, as if to do so would be to admit what she had lost.

During the first day Elena had assumed that new orders would arrive as matter of course. During the second day she had begun to worry that they would not. During the third day she did not worry at all, and slept.

She was awoken the next morning by the intercom. It ordered her to report to Erdogan’s office on Glenn Station, immediately.

Elena acknowledged, and rolled slowly from her hammock. She had known for weeks that this would be coming, but not so soon. She wondered idly what charges they’d managed to cook up, and whether it had already been leaked to the press. She didn’t want her mother to find out that way.

The deck was quiet when she finally left the stateroom, for the first time in forty eight hours. Elena made her way through the airlock and descended the ladder into the station without glimpsing another soul. She noted dispassionately that her coriolis induced vertigo had disappeared.

Elena opened the door to the station, and found the entire crew of GSA-1138
Gabriel
and Glenn Station standing at attention in the curved gallery before her. At the front and center of the procession were Vijay and Erdogan. They were in full dress uniform, and as they approached her Elena saw that Vijay’s sleeves no longer bore only two stripes, the insignia of a Second Officer. Now he had three, like she and Erdogan.

Erdogan explained that, since she was officially awaiting assignment at the station, the notice had been sent to Glenn instead of
Gabriel
. And that Vijay had insisted that protocol demand she report to them and not the other way around. And that somebody—not saying who—had gone ahead and told the whole damned crew.

Vijay stepped forward, smiling, and removed the three stripe insignia from the ribbed sleeves of her spacesuit. He replaced them with two silver stars, one for each of her arms. Then he swept Captain Elena Gonzales into a hug as her crew cheered.

It was hard to believe that she had last visited Port Avramovich only a few weeks before. The station had looked very different to her then. Of course, she had looked very different then too. She had been in civilian clothes, one tourist among many. Now she was in uniform, and a celebrity. She was a hero.

Everywhere she went strangers approached to shake her hand, until it was red and swollen. Those that didn’t want her hand wanted her picture, and she was constantly greeted by the sight of people holding up their arms so that the cameras built into their bracelets could snap her photo. She was forced to smile so often that her jaw ached. It got to be where Vijay was less her executive officer than her bodyguard. A contingent of civilian Port Av security guards had been offered to them as an escort from one plane to the next, but, being proud officers of the Space Agency, they had refused. That had been stupid.

Port Avramovich was so large that the wall of the centrifuge was almost flat, and it spun so quickly that she could almost run. They somehow managed to fight their way from their ferry on one side of the station to the shuttle on the other side, two kilometers away. Whose idea it had been to assign their plane to the opposite gate, she had no idea. The ticket agent quickly waved them aboard with only a cursory check. Elena and Vijay would be the only two passengers on this hop. The crowd of onlookers swarmed in behind them and washed against the security checkpoint.

The last thing Elena heard before the doors closed was a strange man proclaiming his love for her.

Solstice Station, however, was just as she remembered it.

She didn’t see much, which was somewhat of a relief. Three kinds of people found themselves assigned to headquarters. There were Flag Officers posted here as a matter of right, staff officers who had fought to be posted here because they hoped to one day be Flag Officers themselves, and line officers who had fought to be posted here so that they wouldn’t have to serve aboard ship. Elena had not been any of the three, and they’d known it.

Solstice was the same basic design as Port Avramovich, a colossal barrel which floated at Earth’s libration point beyond the Moon. Elena tasted acid in her mouth as the plane went in for approach, and had to ask for a pouch of water to wash it out. She was whisked from the terminal and through the main concourse by two brisk, cheery officers from Public Affairs. Elena hadn’t spoke to Public Affairs on official business in fifteen years, and the previous experience had not been a happy one. She ignored their busy, shallow chatter as much as possible. If Vijay had not been there to run interference, she may very well have strangled them just to shut them up.

They took her to something called a green room, a deeply confusing name as it was actually painted a pale blue. There were leather chairs and couches, a table laden with fruit and bottles of water, and a long counter fronted by canvas backed chairs and topped with a row of mirrors.