Regan's Reach 2: Orbital Envy (12 page)

[What about language Ham?]

[When resecting the left brain it's true that some higher language functions, grammar for example may be compromised for you but then, you never showed much aptitude there anyway]

[Ha bloody ha. What are the other risks?]

[Regan] He sounded desperate, even subbing [it's not worth going through them, the risks are almost too numerous to mention. However my confidence in doing the operation is total. What I will find after we begin I can't say. We play the hand we've been dealt, and we do it well, that's all I can promise. One thing is certain, if I can make a viable connection between the implants and the right brain then language and any other higher function will never be a problem for you again. Regan, are you comfortable with the power source?]

[Well, I guess technically I won't ever be able to go home, we
are
supposed to be nuclear free, but the other advantages make it worth it. Anyway, you say the photoreceptor web is compromised so what are the other options anyway?]

[There are none]

[There you go then, I'm fine with it]

[Then we should get onto this sooner rather than later. It's been two weeks already. I have the hardware, the knowledge, the plan of attack. Skin and bone culture is ready and Leah is prepared for her role. That only leaves your mother and Jared. Jean's getting Antsy but Jared is busy and happy with me. This only needs your 'go' now babe. I won't start without it]

[You have it Ham, just let me have a few . . . last words, with them all. Then we can get into it. You can start getting ready]

What on earth do I say to them?

* * *

The Saucer

Marin was sleeping. Steph walked from the galley to control and sat with her coffee, curling her feet up under her, a picture so like Regan it annoyed Ham.

"Quite comfortable I see. Nothing you'd like to know, learn, or do perhaps?"

"Ham, I sense you have some problem with me. I don't get it. You need to give me a break"

"Actually Stephanie, from the evidence you appear . . . pretty much unbreakable."

"Sorry?" She looked confused for a second then, ". . . Oh! I
am
sorry; I tend to forget you're the unseen visitor in every room." She sounded annoyed.

"Not every room. I can avoid those I don't want to share." His words conveyed the certainty that such rooms, at least at times, did exist.

Neither spoke for some time. It was a standoff. Ham could stand it no longer.

"How could you do this, she counts you as her best friend for goodness sake."

"Do what?"

"Seriously, you need to ask? How could you do this with Marin? In what universe would it be alright for you to just slip in like that?"

Steph sat up straight in the chair. "You've lost me Ham, what
are
you talking about? Marin and Regan aren't an item. She told me herself it was ok, she just said to be careful."

"Well what would she say; you'd already ridden the Marin!"

"She told me, they're not monogamous."

"
Marin's
people aren't, but anyway, that makes it ok, how?"

Steph looked concerned. "What do you know Ham? Are you saying she's hurt about this? I'd never do anything to hurt her."

"Well you didn't think too hard about that one did you?" He sighed "Look, I don't think she's hurt, it's more complicated than that, I just thought this would be ground no friend would explore, and explore, and explooore . . . do you
ever
tire?"

"
Now
I'm getting embarrassed. Look, they're not exclusive, Marin told me all about it, that Jared wasn't his. Regan's had other partners too obviously. When she told me to go for it, well, what do I take from that?"

"First, when she told you to go for it you'd already done the deed, it doesn't count. Second, what did Marin tell you?"

"That Regan had been with others, that Jared wasn't his."

"No, he wouldn't have said that, tell me exactly what Marin told you."

She paused, looking concerned and thought for a moment. "I said he must be proud of his son. Then he told me that Jared wasn't his."

"That's it?"

"Yeah . . . that's it, why? Ham . . . what's going on here?"

There followed a long pause. When Ham spoke again Stephanie was standing.

His voice was leaden. "It's not for me to say Steph. Regan wouldn't be happy if I did. You need to talk to Marin."

She looked behind her toward the small bunkroom where Marin was sleeping. She was about to move when Ham spoke again.

"Stephanie . . . this isn't your fault, or Marin's. Sometimes things are hard to communicate, sometimes people don't communicate so well and sometimes . . . well, we hear what we want to hear."

She reached the door and stood just looking at it, composing herself. A touch to the pad and it slid open. She could see Marin, curled in a tangled sheet,
like a twisted pretzel.
Quietly she stepped to the bunk. There was hardly room for one so she perched on the edge and regarded him for a moment, a wave of sadness passing through her. Something had changed, what she didn't know, but she could feel it already. It wouldn't be the same.

"Marin . . ." She gently shook his shoulder.

His eyes opened, ". . . Again?" and he smiled a sleepy smile.

"No Marin, I need to talk."

He shifted over to give her room so she sat at the base, facing him. "You said to me that Jared wasn't your son." Her look was intense and he shuffled back to sit against the wall.

"That's right, I'm sad to say it. He isn't my son, he's a great child."

"So . . . Regan had other lovers, on the orbital, that's right isn't it?"

A look of intense pain came on his face. He took her hand. "No, I didn't say that. Only that Jared isn't my son."

"I don't understand," she looked anxious, "Is pregnancy catching there or something, I thought she must have had a lover. Marin, what's going on?"

Marin looked sideways desperately and said nothing. He was clearly thinking hard.

She continued "Marin . . . You and I, I wouldn't have . . . Oh shit!" she paused, shaking her head. "I would have wanted to but I wouldn't have, if I'd known. What aren't you telling me?"

He turned to face her, took both her hands and swallowed nervously. "Steph, Regan will kill me for saying anything, you need to understand that."

"I need to know Marin. Something isn't right. I
am
her best friend."

"She was raped Steph, by my step brothers."

"
The witches spawn
!" Ham's voice boomed in the small room shocking them both.

"Raped?" She looked away trying to gather her thoughts, a cold feeling settling over her.

Marin continued. "When we got to the orbital I had to go into treatment for my injury. My mother . . ."

"The
witch
!" Ham interrupted again.

". . . My mother put her in my brothers' custody. They raped and beat her."

Stephanie looked ashen. The color and life seemed to drain from her body as the implications hit home. "She never said anything." Her voice was a whisper. She couldn't believe it and shook her head
no!

"She kept it to herself for Jared Steph, she didn't want anyone to know. She doesn't want it hanging over his head."

Steph thought for a moment then stood and walked from the room. Outside she stopped desolate, desperate. "Where do I go in a fucking saucer?" She walked zombie like to the war room and curled up on the floor.

Marin followed and she sensed rather than heard him at the door.

She twisted and called, over her shoulder. "What happened to your fucking brothers?"

Marin searched for the right words, picturing his brothers as he did so. He could still feel the anger and frustration churn his stomach. Bile rose into his throat.

"She killed them." He didn't embellish.

Steph groaned. It was utter despair and she rolled back into the corner.

* * *

Hillary Station

"Butch, this is great!"

"I'm not with you sir, what do you mean"

"We've got our own man on Hillary, that's good enough for me. Lie low, don't make any waves, you know the drill. This could be very useful."

"Uh-huh. Sir, you know the President seconded me here, as an advisor. There are no spies on Hillary, certainly not me." Rod looked at the ceiling and rolled his eyes.

"Sure, sure . . . of course, just be ready when we need you, you savvy?"

"I hear you sir, ready for what by the way."

"I want you ready for anything, fuck it and I'm not sure I like your tone. Are we clear here?"

"Yes sir, sorry sir, just a little space crazy I guess."

"Ok then. You hear anything you think is important; you can contact us via The Step."

A click signaled the call had ended. Rod sat for some time thinking until 'The Voice' intruded on his thinking.

"You ok Rod?"

"Honestly, I don't know what the fuck I am. That was my superiors superior Ham. They assume they have an inside man here. He may not have used the word but their expectations are spy for sure. And then on the other side I feel like if I'm on the team here . . . ah shit, I don't know who I'm working for."

"Who's your Commander in Chief Rod?"

"The President." There was no hesitation.

"Then there's your answer. Just do what he's asked you to do. Represent him here on Hillary. We're your friends here, not the enemy. Regan allowed you here; she wants to be generous and welcoming. For the record though, don't cross her. Now, we have a two seated ADF to try out. Are you up for the co-pilots role, just for the moment?"

Rod needed no second invitation. "Where are we off to Ham?"

"It'll be USD flight decks earthward end first for a briefing, then into the simulator again and finally some real flight training around the pipe. If all goes well we might look at a spin around the moon tomorrow, how does that sound?"

Hayden Joyce watched the simulator performance keenly as Rod went through the drills. Familiarity with the cockpit and many hours practice were paying off big time and his skills were outstanding. Not surprisingly he was pretty sharp as the ADF was like a fighter to fly compared with his shuttle. Modeled on the USDynamics trainers he had spent many hundreds of hours flying, the ADF cockpit felt familiar to him. The USD designed shuttles were also very similar in layout and it was obvious Rod felt right at home. The main difference from those models was the also most dramatic. The level of AI assistance was beyond anything he had experienced as a pilot. The AI wasn't Ham, but it was smart. Voice control was disturbingly accurate and could handle even urgent maneuvering if called on. Nevertheless he had worked hard to make sure he could fly this thing solo. He knew some of the others had done the same. It just didn't feel right to let the computer do the job.

Hayden knew the Major would have found almost everything easier in the ADF, the main difference being lightening quick speed and dramatic maneuverability. He could also anticipate the first question he would ask.

Rod stepped from the simulator looking troubled.

"Major, congratulations. That was pretty good for a rookie."

Rod smiled knowingly. He had killed it he knew. Only two of the fifteen Sherpa pilots trialed so far had stepped up to his level, one an Aussie and the other Korean, a woman. She looked so tiny he found it hard to believe she was old enough but boy, could she fly. The Aussie John Carver, had an amiable way that meant he was destined for the training rooms, of that Rod felt sure. That meant he was likely to be working with the amazing Minjee Chow.
Now that's a pleasant prospect,
he thought.

Over lunch in the mess he made a point of joining her, an opportunity to exercise his charm. It was forty five minutes of frustration. She was gorgeous, delightful, intelligent, humorous . . . and immune. He couldn't touch her, certainly not physically but more importantly he had the sense she held him at arm's length. She could smile and dismiss in the same look and by lunch end he was more confused about where he stood than at the beginning. What he did know is that he liked her. Twenty two years old with a master in science before joining the South Korean Air Force and fast tracking into Fighters; with her background there was an obvious mystery. How did she get here before him?
I thought there were no military on Hillary?

As they headed back to the flight deck Rod excused himself and headed for the bathroom. If they were to fly soon he wanted empty tanks. Taking the opportunity he headed for a cubicle, locked in and dropped his flight suit. It was only once seated that he noticed words on the door.
Want to fly with her?

"Fuck me," he looked around, and up. "Ham . . . is that you?"

The words morphed.
The Aussie or her, which is it to be?

"Oh Minjee, I want her, yes, yes, yes!" he pumped his fist.

The words faded from the door and he reached forward to rub at it, detecting nothing unusual about the surface. For a moment he felt rather exposed, then thought
fuck it
and finished his business.

Opening the door he found the Australian waiting, arms crossed and smiling.

"You are one sick yank. What the fuck were you doing in there?" He started pumping his fist as he mimicked what he had heard, "Oh Minjee, I want her yes, yes, yeeeessss!" He laughed as he entered the next cubicle.

* * *

Back up the pipe moonward Kevin sat in conference with Bob Jarvis on screen.

"I'm sorry Kevin, I can't find out anything you don't already know. The American's know only that the missile originated from the China Sea, but your tracking was even more accurate it seems."

"Do they have any idea who launched it?"

"Nothing concrete but here's the American thinking. Why would the Chinese launch anything at Hillary Station? If they were already established on Hillary Step, which they're not, I guess it could make some weird sense. Perhaps it might be said they were making sure no one else passes them in their plans."