Here we stand, p.14
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Here We Stand, page 14

 

Here We Stand
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  She propped her screen on the desk and carried on watching the news, this time the APS-based stations. It was all images of closed borders, shuttered supermarkets with rationing notices on the doors, and cancelled transport. She felt as if Solomon’s sabcode had wrecked APS’s network infrastructure a long time ago, but it was only a couple of months, and Asia was probably still recovering from the knock-on effects of that when the die-back outbreaks started. She pitied the ordinary people who were on the receiving end and had no idea why this was happening to them. But all this strife, no matter who’d started it, had sprung from the last remnant of Ainatio: a few hundred people and an AI, all that was left of a once-global company that had transformed Earth with automation and AI, but whose sole purpose was to fund human colonisation of space. Tad Bednarz wasn’t responsible for what one sociopathic employee had done when he was long dead, but if Ingram drew a simple flow chart of events, the lines from Asia’s current situation led back to him. It suddenly seemed uncomfortably close and personal.

  A reply from Fred popped up on her screen. He’d embraced the art of the memo as seamlessly as he’d learned English, and for a moment Ingram missed the entertainingly frank pidgin he’d first spoken as much as Jeff Aiken did.

  Captain,

  There are two potential uninhabited planets within twenty light years of Opis, although you should not regard yourself as limited by distance. Srale is probably within the parameters for human colonisation, although its polar ice caps are currently at their maximum extent and would limit settlements to the equatorial zone. I will survey the planet by probe and generate more detailed data for you to study. I think this is prudent and appropriate planning on your part.

  “Fred, there’ll probably always be a job for you in the Civil Service,” Ingram said to herself, and sent her thanks.

  No matter how many times she thought about the situation and reached the conclusion that there was no immediate help Nomad could give Earth, she still had an optimistic daydream of setting up a parallel colony on another planet to provide refuge for those who needed to escape and commercial opportunities for those who would otherwise want to strip-mine Opis, all without upsetting Solomon’s plan to keep the undesirables away.

  Now she had to tell Searle and the Gang of Three what she had in mind. She copied the conversation to them and started clearing the rest of the messages and reports that had landed in her inbox during the morning, trying not to worry about what was happening to the freighter.

  She started getting replies about fifteen minutes later.

  Empire builder, Marc wrote. God Save The King, but we’re not paying taxes.

  Trinder asked about the impact on bot availability if they were still going to complete the FTL drives on the orbiting ships, and Chris just commented that it would at least give them more options. Searle asked if she’d changed her mind again about making contact with Earth, which suggested he still hadn’t absorbed the reality of her having to reach agreement with Marc, Chris, and Trinder as well. She had the ability to defy them, but she could only do it once, and she didn’t want to.

  There was another message from Marc a few minutes later.

  By the way, I’m serving lamb jalfrezi tonight, RPC 1900 sharp. Mild bc Howie’s got to eat it too but hot pickle will be available. RSVP.

  Ingram wasn’t going to turn that down. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done anything purely social, and memories of a curry beyond the generic MRE variety were lost in the mists of time. She was working out which form of alcohol to take with her — Andy’s gin, Kill Line beer, or some of her vintage plunder — when Jenny Park tapped on her door.

  “May I have a word, Captain?”

  “Certainly, Jenny.” Ingram indicated the chair opposite her desk. Jenny was one of the civilian food technicians, a job which now carried the status of minor nobility, but Ingram didn’t know her as well as she should have. Jenny was Korean, though, and Ingram could imagine what was on her mind. “What can I do for you?”

  Jenny sat down and clasped her hands on her lap as if she didn’t know what to do with them. “You know I come from the area where die-back broke out, don’t you? Honam.”

  “I do, yes.”

  “I’m finding it hard to watch what’s going on in Korea now. I still have family there as far as I know. Is there any chance we’ll be allowed to make contact? I know we can’t help them, but it’s really troubling me that everyone thinks I’m dead. Members of my wider family will still be going to the trouble of commemorating me. It’s a duty, you see.”

  Ingram was just surprised that it had taken so long for someone to ask outright, but everyone now watched the news and it had tipped the balance. It was inevitable. Stopping the crew from accessing TV would only have made things worse.

  “I understand,” Ingram said. “I suspect everyone feels the same way. I certainly do. I’m trying to find a way to do that without making the situation worse on Earth or compromising security here. But I’m sure you’ve thought through what the effect would be when people find out there’s another habitable world but they can’t reach it.”

  “And that’s before we mention aliens.” Jenny had always seemed spiky and argumentative, but she seemed rather ground down now. “Yes, I’ve done all the what-ifs.”

  “As I said, I’m trying to find a way.”

  “But some people on Earth do know we’re okay, don’t they?”

  “Meaning?”

  “The British government was going to airlift people from the Ainatio research centre. People talk, Captain. And I heard that Marc Gallagher arranged a call to APS for Dr Kim to talk them out of bombing the centre when the lab let their live die-back virus escape. So there’s been some contact with governments and they must know people were still heading to Opis.”

  “Do you want me to be completely open with you?” Ingram asked.

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  “I don’t know if my government knows we survived, but I suspect they’ve guessed. They certainly don’t know we’re actually on Opis or anything about the Caisin gate. I don’t know what APS knows, but everybody here knows their science and technology commissioner has probably worked out most of it, and he wants to shut us down — Solomon, the base, the whole Nomad project. Right now, I don’t have a way of contacting Earth without starting some sort of mass panic or conflict, or creating expectations we can’t fulfil. But when I do find one, restoring family contact will be a priority.”

  Jenny stared back at her as if she was waiting for her to go on, then realised she wasn’t and blinked a few times.

  “I know it’s a mess,” she said. “What if we called but said we were somewhere else, somewhere on Earth?”

  Ingram did her oh-really expression, looking over the top of imaginary spectacles. “That would take quite an explanation. It probably wouldn’t hold up long.”

  “Okay.”

  “Would it help if we tried to locate your relatives? At least you’d know who was still around in the meantime. Solomon’s very good at hacking into databases.”

  “That would be very kind,” Jenny said, visibly disappointed. “Thank you.”

  “Give me the details you have and we’ll get on it.”

  Ingram wasn’t going to kid herself that was going to be enough. When Jenny left, she realised she wished everyone had decided to forget Earth existed the way they were told to when they volunteered for the mission. Earth became an idea, the civilisation they were undertaking the mission for, not specific individuals. That way Ingram didn’t have to think about what was happening to the family estate under her cousin because none of it existed any more.

  But now she thought about it quite often. The moment a two-way connection with Earth was re-established, even if it was just stealing sat TV, it all came flooding back. If it was going to be tough for her, she could only imagine how bad it would be for some of the Ainatio staff. They’d lost contact with friends and relatives in other parts of the country and had no idea if they were dead or alive, and they couldn’t even look for them.

  But now Nomad Base had the technology to do these things. Humans had never been much good at ignoring possibilities. Both Marc and Chris had said the Caisin gate was a temptation to make bad decisions.

  Ingram tried to put it out of her mind for the rest of the afternoon. There was enough to keep her busy — worrying about Solomon’s attempts to infiltrate Jattan comms, working out what she’d do when it was finally time to revive Georgina Erskine and the rest of the Elcano passengers in cryo, passing Peter Bissey in the corridor and acknowledging him as if he’d never told her she was a war criminal — and if she filled the time well, she’d be able to move straight into a pleasant dinner with Marc and Howie, which would ground her by reminding her what was at stake.

  Nomad had to come first. It wasn’t about discovery or scientific research. It was about building a community. That was what she’d signed up for. That was her undertaking to everyone here.

  By 1730, she hadn’t heard back from Solomon. She knew he was still functioning because she could spot all the tasks he managed still happening like clockwork, but they’d agreed that he’d stay off the net. It wasn’t for security reasons. She just didn’t want to keep asking him what was happening, because even if it didn’t distract an intellect that could multi-task in a way no human could, she knew it would irritate him. As long as he said nothing, things weren’t going wrong.

  But now curry beckoned. She tarted herself up for the evening, which in Nomad terms meant exchanging navy working rig for a sweatshirt and jeans, and packed beer and a bottle of vintage Calvados into a bag. She located a free quad bike on the base map and rode over to Marc’s place.

  Howie greeted her on the doorstep like a little maître d’ and took the bag from her. “Hello, Captain Ingram,” he said. “You look nice. I’ve never seen you in anything that wasn’t dark blue.”

  “Thank you, Howie. You’re a gentleman.”

  A promising smell of curry wafted from the kitchen. Ingram had looked over some of the new print-built homes when they were first finished, but she’d never set foot in one that was actually occupied. Marc kept it predictably tidy and seemed to have a domestic routine going with Howie, who laid the table and polished glasses. It was impressive to see how many small comforts the manufacturing system in Nomad had managed to produce. She was still living in the cabin allotted to her on arrival, only a little bigger than one on a warship, and drinking out of a corporate freebie mug. Now Marc was handing her a beer in a proper glass. Civilisation had come to Opis.

  He inspected the contents of the bag and read the label on the bottle of Calvados with a faint frown.

  “I have to ask,” he said.

  “Go ahead.”

  “This predates the fall of France. Where did you loot it from? Or was this gathering dust in the cellars of Ingram Towers?”

  “I was given it by an infantry officer who appreciated the naval gunfire support we were able to provide,” Ingram said. “I wish I’d gone ashore and looted some more, actually, but things were a little kinetic.”

  “What were you saving it for?”

  “Something extraordinary that I couldn’t imagine. I think having a curry night on an alien world with two gentlemen is excuse enough to open it, though.”

  “What’s Calvados?” Howie asked.

  “French apple brandy. They don’t make it any more.” Marc opened the bottle and let him smell it. “Right, take a seat, Captain. No poppadums, but we’ve got raita and some mango pickle I appropriated from Ainatio along with the spices. Dinner is served.”

  He hadn’t exaggerated about the curry. It really was very good, and even if it hadn’t been, it was just so profoundly enjoyable and ordinary to sit down to a meal with friends — a family, almost — that Ingram would have been happy with a plate of cheese on toast. She kept the conversation away from business, answered Howie’s questions about England and the navy, and forgot about Solomon’s mission for the duration. She was having such a good time chatting with Howie that she was disappointed when 2200 hours came and he declared it his bedtime.

  “I’ve got double math tomorrow,” he said, collecting the plates and stacking them in the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I know the feeling, Howie.” It was touching to hear a little boy sounding so grown-up. “Sleep well.”

  Marc waited for him to close the bathroom door and gave Ingram a smile. “He’s a good kid.”

  “He’s adorable, Marc. But I get the feeling he’s the one looking after you.”

  “He is. That’s his thing. Like Betsy.”

  “Where is she tonight?”

  “At Dieter’s. She comes and goes.”

  “That was a splendid curry, by the way.”

  “Thank you. I have four signature dishes.” Marc counted them off on his fingers. “Fry-up, chips, pizza, and curry. A man’s menu.”

  “Apicius couldn’t aspire to more,” Ingram said.

  Marc got up and retrieved the Calvados and two army-issue water bottle cups. Ingram leaned back in her chair and looked around the room. It was the first time she’d noticed the small framed photo on the wall, two young men who had to be Marc’s sons. She wondered whether to say something supportive but felt she’d be intruding.

  “Have you had a rough day?” Marc asked.

  “Not entirely. But Jenny Park came by and asked if she could call family in Korea just to say she wasn’t dead. I felt an absolute shit saying no, to be honest. Well, I said I was working on a zero-risk way of doing it, which I suppose I am. But they must all feel that way now.” Ingram thought of Tev. “Sorry, and there’s Tev. I’m being crass.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “What are we going to do about him?”

  Marc poured two shots of Calvados, which they downed, and then two more. Ingram didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. She just waited for him to go on.

  “I don’t know,” Marc said at last. “But I can’t leave him to starve, and I definitely can’t leave him if Tim Pham’s minions have gone after him. Or his family. It’s my fault he ended up in Fiji.”

  “You’re the only person I know who could extract him and not cause a major problem,” Ingram said.

  “Are you saying I ought to?”

  “Only you know him well enough to decide if it’s the right thing for him. But I admit the Pham angle is worrying.”

  “See, Chris is nudging me too. But assuming Tev can leave and wants to, how’s that going to look to people here who just want to call their eighty-year-old mate who’s been putting flowers on their memorial for the last forty-odd years?”

  The next shot of Calvados went down Ingram’s throat a lot more easily. “Harsh truth? Upsetting someone isn’t a reason for not extracting Tev.”

  “I know, but it’ll open a bloody big can of worms,” Marc said. “Dan, for a start. He’ll feel under pressure to go and find his family, even though they drifted apart for a reason. But they might well be dead. And Chris. He wants a piece of Tim Pham and he’s never going to forget it. Once you say it’s okay to visit Earth, it’ll resurrect a lot of things people should have left buried.”

  “Okay, let me put it this way,” Ingram said. “You feel bad about Tev right now, and I don’t like seeing you unhappy. I would rather you extracted him. And we need all the special forces we can get. I’m just saying that nobody would object to rescuing Tev. He’s like someone we accidentally left behind. We’d go back under those circumstances, wouldn’t we? And Tev’s probably the only person we can trust to be given the choice of going or staying, because he’d never tell a living soul about Opis. Or the gate.”

  “If we’re at the stage of identifying other planets for settlement, we’re going to come clean about Opis anyway,” Marc said. “But it might be too late for him.”

  “Well, find out, then.”

  “This place runs on mutual trust. If I do this covertly, who’s going to trust me? It’d be wrong for me to keep it from Chris and Dan, for a start. But at some point people will find out, because we’re a village, and then your APS crew will want to contact people, and if you say no, they’ll be pissed off and you’ll have a split on your hands. The Ainatio boffins will want to extract their mates, the very people who decided to work for APS even after the shitbags threatened to nuke us and sabotaged our launch. Do we let them in, or say no thanks, you picked your side? And if you say yes to your APS people, you can’t guarantee they’ll never mention the Caisin gate. If they do, and we’ve handed FTL to the chosen few, violence on some scale will be used to acquire the technology. Tim Pham knows enough to follow up on any rumour that reaches Earth.”

  “You always do this, you know.”

  “What?”

  “War-game all the scenarios.”

  “It’s my job. I always show my working-out.”

  “And I listen and think, oh God, he’s right, when I should be saying do it and see what happens. Because as Chris always says, you can’t save everybody. And people on Earth have a responsibility to behave like bloody adults without our supervision.”

  Marc thought about that for a while. “Harsh, but true. Also a forlorn hope.”

  “So call Tev. For me, if nothing else.”

  “Okay.”

  “And leave me to make the excuses if you retrieve him.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean it. Don’t nod and humour me.”

  “I said I’d do it. Just accept it’ll cause rows.”

  “I don’t care. I’m a sociopath. I’m the Butcher of Calais.”

  “No, that’s just your psyops.”

  “I suppose I ought to read what history said about me.”

  “Alex calls you Ingram the Terrible, by the way. So you can’t be that bad. He wouldn’t give you a funny nickname if he thought you were a complete bastard.”

 
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