INTERVENTION (5 page)

   Finally
, Rachmel was satisfied. She didn’t mind Andretta’s detector; it was probably a Ghosts equivalent of a comfort blanket anyway, and it did suggest a certain amount of Agency paranoia, giving Andretta an air of human vulnerability which afforded Rachmel a mild form of sadistic pleasure.

Andretta entered the galley and proceeded to place her personal meal preferences into the mainframe sub interface that was part of the service counter and although there were two other members of the crew sitting at a nearby table there was silence, as all verbal interaction had ceased when she had walked through the door; Hidson and Duarte were staring at each other like a pair of statues. Andretta was long used to this reaction from people; it was what Administrators’ referred to as The Medusa phenomenon and was a sure sign that they, the Administrators, had been the topic of conversation before they had arrived. 

  
The dining area of the galley was fairly large, as these vessels had been designed to accommodate up to 12 crew members, depending on their particular mission, and 80 passengers. Because of the small number of people on this mission there were just 7 tables, which were fitted to the surrounding bulkhead; each table accommodating 2 seats. This arrangement had been deemed the best for this mission as it allowed individuals to choose companionship or privacy as the mood took them. 

  
Andretta chose a table at the centre of the line and began her meal: after a few moments, the low murmur of conversation resumed; the subject matter having been exchanged for something of a less personal nature.

  
In his quarters Miles was a deeply worried man; in all of his service he had never flown a mission with an Administrator on board, nor had he heard of anyone else enjoying such a privilege. A few minutes ago he had attempted to gain some insight as to the Agent’s true mission through the MAC system, but all he could get back was “No data.” During his personal orders he had been informed, no doubt as had everyone else, that the Agent was on board to look after the interests of some civilian company back on Earth, but he just wasn’t buying that; Agents dealt with people and certainly never with business. To his way of thinking, someone on this vessel was in deep crap and he needed to know who; everyone had their dark little secrets and he was no different to anyone else, but did such secrets warrant the presence of a Bureau Agent? Was he the target? Or was he being paranoid?

Ten minutes before departure time MAC gave out the general announcement.

  
“All crew prepare for vehicle release: mission start in nine minutes and fifty seven seconds.”

  
At this point the flight preparation warning sounded in each accommodation.

  
“Securing facility in process: securing facility in process” as the securing console rose slowly from the deck at the centre of each room.

  
The consoles resembled a downsized version of the ULiSS pods but without the facility of either Biohibernation nor of the internal power system. Built specifically for the purpose of diminishing velocity acceleration and deceleration they were merely a pressurised system built to protect the person within.

  
Hidson, being the pilot, however, was afforded no such luxury and had to don his body-formed space suit as his protection, after which he secured himself in place at the controls of the pilots’ bridge and awaited clearance to manually pilot the vessel from the docking area of the space station: the rest of the crew having secured in their quarters.

  
Once they were ten thousand miles distant from the station Hidson would hand over control to MAC system which would then accelerate the vehicle to 25% speed of light; thus achieving internal gravity and allowing everyone inside to move around freely once more. 

  
Hidson surveyed the screens before him, checking that all conditions were ready for launch; satisfied, he began his flight procedure.

  
“Control, Leading Pilot Officer Hidson of the Manned Exploration probe Delta Sierra One awaiting launch affirmation: I have confirmation of all onboard systems.” 

  
The reply was immediate. “Confirmed Delta Sierra One, you are clear to go.

Release procedure
in 30 seconds...20 seconds...10 seconds...5...4...3...2...1...release administered. Good luck to you D.S.1.

  
The vessel reversed slowly as the docking locks released their hold and the tiny jets of compressed air pushed it gently out into open space. Once clear of the station, Hidson turned the vessel 180 degrees and headed for the 10000 mile designated area: his body weight now at zero after the disassociation of the space stations’ internal gravitational influence, with only the electro-magnetic harness to hold him steady in the pilots’ seat. 

  
10000 miles had been found to be the necessary minimum distance from the space station before any vessel could safely transfer to subluminal velocity; any closer than this could create possible non-dissipated turbulence to the station, which would cause effect to other vehicles approaching or leaving.

  
For this reason the space station had the facility to automatically control the speed of any incoming traffic and to dock the vehicle; this had been built into the system as a precaution in the event that something should have happened to the pilot, causing the vessel to become a runaway.

  
The lesson had been learned during the so called inner space wars, when an aggressors’ vessel had attempted a suicidal run at one of the space stations after using up all of its ammunition: the plan had only been thwarted by the quick action of an Arrowline fighter pilot, also out of ammunition, who had rammed the vessel before it could make contact with the station. As the ships had disintegrated on impact both crews were automatically thrown clear in their ejector pods, their only lifelines being their space suits. The three members of the Arrowline crew were soon rescued by vessels from the space station: the enemy crew were left to float away to whatever destiny awaited them.

  
Twenty minutes later MAC informed Hidson. “Leading pilot, we are approaching the exchange point: please transfer control to Mainframe systems and make ready for subluminal velocity: I shall inform the crew once we have attained our cruise speed.” 

  
Hidson released the propulsion drive pad: put his head back into the headrest and responded “Transfer ready.”

  
The pilot’s chair began to recline and once in position, MAC advised “All personnel in transfer mode: transferring now.” 

  
A few minutes later Hidson felt his body weight returning and then MAC announced “Subluminal velocity achieved: it is now safe for crew to resume normal practice.” 

  
At this, all seating and console locks in the crew’s quarters were released.

Rachmel was about to leave her quarters when the doorcom was activated.

  
“Entry is requested.”

  
“Who?” 

  
“Leading Physics Officer Duarte.”

  
Well, here it was: she had wondered how long it would take for the questioning to begin, but was a little surprised that Duarte was first; she would have put her money on Miles. 

  
“Permission granted.” 

  
The door slid silently open and Duarte stepped inside. “Commander, I just wanted to …” 

  
Rachmel interrupted her. “Please take a seat.” 

  
The two women sat at the desk, and then Rachmel asked “What can I do for you Leading Officer?” 

  
“Well, I wanted to thank you for allowing me this opportunity as your Second in Command and to assure you I shall not let you down: one day I hope to gain my own command and know that I can learn a lot from a Commander of your experience. I really am looking forward to this mission.” 

  
Rachmel had been observing her while she spoke and found the woman to have a maturity beyond her youthful looks: perhaps, one day, she would eventually make a good second Officer. 

  
In reply she said “Your enthusiasm for the mission is admirable, but your confidence in my abilities humbles me: this mission will go a long way to making the goal of your own command a reality: I wish you well.”

  
The pause that followed seemed longer than it really was. 

  
“Was there something else?” Queried the Commander.

  
“Well…yes. I don’t wish to appear to be questioning the integrity of Missions Control, but why would they …” 

  
Rachmel finished the question for her. “Why would they send an Administrator on this mission? The very question I asked them myself. The reply was that she has been seconded, temporarily, from the Agency to a private civilian company who appear to have a vested interest in this mission and it seems they wanted someone here who was above reproach to watch out for their interests: beyond that I cannot say.” 

  
After a few moments of deep thought, Duarte asked, concernedly, “Commander, is it your belief that someone on this mission is to be … administrated?”

  
Rachmel was a little taken aback by the abruptness of the question and the look of anxiety in the eyes of her second-in-command. She had expected everyone to be a little edgy, but here there seemed to be real fear...almost dread. Could it be that the reputation of the Bureau had unnerved the young and relatively inexperienced physics Officer, who had probably never before met an agent, let alone served with one? Or did she really have something to fear from Andretta? Whatever the answer, a steadying hand was called for and, as Commander, that responsibility was hers.

  
“If what I think you are asking is, do I believe that Agent Andretta is here to terminate someone, then my answer is no, I do not believe that to be the case; she

may have private or
ders that we are not privy to, but I don’t think they involve the destruction of any member of this mission. If someone’s termination had been her real goal here I think she would have acted before we launched. Now why don’t we make our way over to the galley and see what’s on the menu.”

Miles was in the observation unit on the starboard side of the main drive system; he would spend most of his time here in the coming weeks, keeping a check on his domain but also to get away from the others and their interruptions.

  
What had started as a niggling doubt had now become a great mystery with not a little danger thrown in: down here he could think clearly, and he had a lot to think about, as they all did. For instance, what was the real reason they had sent a damned Ghost on this mission? He hadn’t gone for the rubbish that he had been given in his personal orders: he assumed that the others had been told the same that she was here in a non-agency capacity working temporarily for some civilian enterprise. It just didn’t ring true for him; she was part of an organisation whose job was basically to spy on, interrogate, or execute judgement and most of the time all three without prior knowledge being given to the target. And that was another thing…they always referred to people as their targets and not as their suspects: cold blooded bastards, all of them. 

  
So why was she here? Had one of the crew done something? But here lay the doubt, because whoever it was would have been interrogated at the station and would not have been allowed on board; so that meant it must be that someone was going to do something on the mission, but that she, Andretta, wasn’t sure who it was yet.

  
Okay, so what did he know about the crew? Rachmel: solid as a rock, not given to flights of fancy or political intrigue: a good Officer who used the rule book and good judgement in equal measures; he couldn’t really accept Andretta being here for her. 

  
Next there was Hidson, the pilot: as straight-laced as a man with a family the size of his should be and he had been around for a long time; if he had been up to anything he would have fallen foul before now. But, then again, he may have been around too long, becoming bored and careless 

  
Then there was Coles, the doc’: she had been in the service for ever and although he didn’t know her personally he had heard a lot about her. She had proven herself during the Inner-space wars and had been decorated several times: she had the reputation of being totally dedicated to her family and the service.

  
But what about Duarte? Bit of a mystery card and comes from the Intraphysics section that tends to keep themselves to themselves anyway: fairly new for a mission like this and made 2IC to boot; it all smacked of string-pulling somewhere, but why? And by who?

  
And last but not least there was Kamul. No mystery about this card; he was well known in gambling circles and well used to trouble: could he have done something stupid and generated the presence of Andretta into the mission?

    
He didn’t know the answers to these questions, but he would be doing a lot of observation in the next few months: everyone was to be watched, but in particular, Kamul and Duarte.