It's Hell To Choose (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 9) (21 page)

Out in the middle of the ocean, what was anyone going to do to stop it?

Shipyards in St. Nazaire-Penhot, France

“This is Mark Billingsly. I’m in St. Nazaire-Penhot, France and behind me is the new QBS Consanesco. It looks strange because it is painted in all black, like a military ship, even though it is obviously a mid-size ocean liner.”

Mark turned so Sia had him in profile as he glanced at the ship, “We understand that the ship’s name means ‘Be Healed’ or ‘Recover’.” He turned back to the camera, “There have been a lot of people who have been boarding the ship in the last two days as it gets ready to leave shore. Right now, I’m told the ship is not fully staffed, but there is very palatial recovery facility for those arriving.
 
However, this ship is not the actual location where those who are aboard might have operations themselves, but rather where they wait until it is their turn for surgery.”

He continued talking as images from the last couple of days appeared over him on the feed, “As you can tell, many of those that are boarding the Consanesco seem to be military. We have been able to confirm at least seven different countries at this time have military personnel on board. Further, we were able to capture an image of the Mali hotel manager, Mr. Omar Kolan, who was also dropped off by limousine just a few minutes ago. So, it is evident that this is not just military personnel who have been invited for this inaugural cruise. No one is sure what is going to happen, but as you can imagine, there is a lot of hype and rumor surrounding what this company can possibly do.”

Sia noticed a small, black helicopter looking craft appear above the ship. She turned slightly and zoomed in and pointed with her finger to get Mark to look. He broke from his pre-scripted speech and went into his ‘reporter on the scene’ voice. “We are seeing something new happening. Sia, the best camera operator in the world in my opinion, is capturing one of the black ‘Pods’ that TQB uses to travel so often. It is the same style Pod we watched Bethany Anne, the CEO of TQB Enterprises, use when arriving at their headquarters in Colorado when we spoke with her last week.”

A female figure stepped out of the pod and was approached by two crew members who seemed to point her to the side of the ship.

“I can’t tell from this distance,” Mark continued, “whether that is Bethany Anne or not. While sightings of the CEO are rare, it would fit her personality to be here to see the ship off.” Then, the female figure was caught walking down the boarding tube and coming towards them.

Sia focused on the figure and shook her head minutely to Mark.
 
“Ok, we can tell this is not Bethany Anne, so it looks like we are going to be introduced to a new person from…” Mark paused for a moment.
 
“Wait, I know this lady. This is our fellow reporter Giannini Oviedo from Costa Rica, who broke the news about TQB in the beginning. It looks like she has been pulled into another news event!”

Giannini Oviedo came up to Mark smiling and held out her hand, “Ola Senor Billingsly!” Sia thought Giannini’s smile was damned photogenic as Mark greeted her.

“Greetings, Ms. Oviedo!” Mark responded.
 
“I see that TQB has brought you from Costa Rica for the maiden voyage of the QBS Consanesco.”

“Yes, they were gracious enough to make the offer. However, they have also provided me the chance to work with another professional, but imagine my surprise when he and his camera person were not in Denver when I checked, but rather his superiors informed me they were already in France?” Her smile radiated as Mark caught on to what she was telling him.

Mark turned to the camera a little, “Are you asking Sia and myself to join you on the maiden voyage?” He inquired.

“Si!” she beamed.
 
“I have permission from your bosses, although how they give permission in America is very strange.” Her face looked questioning to Mark, who could just imagine how his bosses might say, ‘he would be pleased to join you.’

Probably something like, ‘that idiot better be on that ship!’ Well, he hoped they used ‘idiot’ and not something even worse.

Mark turned towards the camera, but viewers could tell he was looking slightly beside the lens, “What about it Sia?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively, “Care to go on a cruise with me?” As he finished his question, he turned to the camera and winked for the viewers.” Sia smiled and moved the camera slightly up and down.

Giannini looked to the camera and waved them towards herself, “Come on folks, let’s go be part of history!”

—

Mark and Sia had spent the better part of the morning and afternoon meeting and interviewing those that were invited to the ship. Generally, most of the military men and women were already ‘ex’ military. Their physical problems stopped them from continuing their service. There were another ten non-military people who had all suffered substantial wounds from helping in situations where anyone in their right mind would say they were a ‘hero.'

The next morning, the ship was pushed out by four tugboats.

Mark found Giannini watching the shore slip out behind them and approached her.
 
“Thank you” he told her as she turned to see who was behind her.

“For what?” she asked.

“For seeking us out. I understand from my bosses that it was your choice. When you approached us on the wharf, I thought TQB told you who they wanted to work with you. We aren’t anyone special, Sia and I…”

“Are a good team!” Giannini interrupted him.
 
“I watched your interview, Mr. Billingsly.”

“Mark, please” he interrupted.

She nodded, “Mark it will be. I watched your interview, and it was well handled. You seemed to follow the story, and that is all we can ask. Just follow the story. Your follow-up to track that man back to Washington was admirable. Plus, it cost your small local channel a lot of money to do that.”

Mark shrugged, “The licensing of my interview helped pay for it, so it worked out.” He put his arms against the railing and looked down the dark hull, “It’s so weird to see this black shell on a ship like this.” He kneeled down to reach over the side, “It’s kind of like a gritty sandpaper, not smooth at all.” He stood back up, “Do you know what it is?”

“No,” she answered, “I don't know what it is made of, but I can tell you the Pod I flew over here in was coated with the same stuff.”

“Hmm,” Mark thought out loud, “So, it's the same thing that reduces radar signature. You would think that they would want a ship to have a large radar signature.”

“I’m told they have no problems being able to let other boats know of their position.”

“Yeah, I imagine telling someone you are here is easier than telling someone you aren’t.” he agreed.
 
“Do you know what they are going to do with all of these injured people?” He looked around to make sure no one was close, “Some people are living on hope, here. I don’t want to have to be the reporter that tells the world that nothing could be done for some of them. It would break my heart” he admitted.

Giannini looked into his eyes, “Mark, in this one thing always trust, those that are around Bethany Anne will never quit, and they will never forsake you. Trust, and have hope.” She turned to the sea, “I’m not sure what I’m going to witness this time, but I believe we are going to be very happy we are here to see it.”

Mark followed her eyes to look out over to the coastline, hoping she was right.

Space Station One - L2 Point

“Jeo” the feminine voice called out, “There is not enough room on two of these platforms to accomplish the new requirements you set for storage and manufacturing.”

“What happens if we bring another platform online?” Jeo asked as he was writing notes on the whiteboard with William, who was back on the Polarus.

“Then you would have extra available space, but the costs are significantly more, and the project will go over budget and extend beyond the days left.”

“What kind of budget and time constraints?”
 
He asked Samantha.

Samantha replied, “A minimum of a month and several million. The cost for these craft used is not too much compared to the income provided.”

Jeo’s mouth compresses into a line. He wrote on his board, “Can I have another $20 mill?”

William wrote back, “Why?”

Jeo rolled his eyes, “Samantha, open up a video module on q3-4 and call William.”

In a moment, Williams' face was projected on his wall. “What’s up Jeo. Tired of writing already?”

“Yes.” Jeo admitted, “My calculations came back. I need more room than two platforms, and there is one in Florida for a million I saw last night.”

“Wait, why are you asking for twenty if the base is one?”

“We have to get it prepped, and I don’t want to miss my deadline. Plus, if anything happens, I don’t want to go back asking for more money.”

“So, a new platform and still hit the deadline?” William confirmed.

“Yes”
 
Jeo agreed.

“Works for me, I’ll ask for twenty-five and let Jeffrey bitch me down to twenty.”

“Does this mean we have to spend it?” Jeo asked, grinning.

“What the hell would we do with the extra money?” William asked.

“Well, it'd be good if we had a bar up here, man!”

William thought about that for a few seconds, then turned to look off camera, “Hey, Rotor-head!” Jeo could hear Bobcat yell something back, “Yeah, you and propeller head - wherever the hell he is - need to come here…” Jeo saw William roll his eyes before answering again. “Yes, we are probably going to get in hot water for this.”

William turned and winked to Jeo before turning back off camera.

“We are going to build and open the first bar in outer space, and we need to name it!”

Shipyard - France Coast

“I’m telling you, this can’t be done!” Van Luong hissed over his beer. He was in a dive bar just four blocks from the shipyard. His cousin, Sang, was asking him how to steal one of the devices that was to be affixed later that night.

“If we get this device, we never work again for the rest of our lives!” Sang hissed back. “Plus, they will wipe out my debt.”

“They will wipe you out!” Van told his cousin. “These guys aren’t messing around. I guarantee you that trying to steal one of these is going to be the end of you.”

Van eyed his cousin and shook his head, then looked around. “Look, you are stupid. If you happened to go to the North side, you might find the fence has been cut for people to get in and out when they need to bypass the main gate. But I’m telling you, this could be suicide.”

Sang sat back, “What are you doing; how does it work?” He took the beer bottle and put it on his leg, twisting it back and forth making a wet circle on his pants.

Van eyed him, “We set up the paint sprayers and use the largest bore because the paint is pretty viscous. Then, as we need the paint, it comes to us. They don’t let anything sit around. From start to finish it is three shifts. If something breaks down, there is a replacement and the broken part is taken away. We have some other junk they have us spray inside the ship. We pull as many access hatches as possible and spray the red liquid inside. Anything inside we spray, we go back over and spray with regular ship’s paint once it dries.”

Van drank his beer, “That stuff is ‘everywhere’, I doubt anything can get through it, certainly not water. The ship feels even more airtight than before.” Van leaned forward. “They don’t leave anything ‘on premises’ for you to steal. Everything is provided when it is needed, and any of these special boxes are brought in at night. For the last preparation, it took thirty-two of them across the ship. As soon as we were done inside, they had teams back on the ship preparing for people to live on board. They had us weld on individual little rooms and a weird connection into the main bridge. Like they were going to add something later, you know?”

Sang shrugged, “No, I haven't seen it.”

Van raised his beer, “That’s because none of our electronics work when near the ship. So, I can’t take pictures. Even the old time camera film gets all exposed when nearby. A few guys have had their phones messed up, so now we don’t even try to get them close.”

Sang asked, “Some sort of anti-spy stuff?”

“I doubt it” Van said. “I don’t see anything else, I think maybe the stuff we are using is messing with it.” He shrugged, “Personally, I don’t care. I’m getting triple pay right now for every hour over forty and if we break the due date with quality work, we all share in a million-dollar prize.”