The Moon and the Desert, page 34
“What? Why? It’s in my quarters back on the shuttle. The attachment’s trashed, I can’t put it back on.”
“No problem, I’ve got one here for you.”
Glenn noticed that Ian was carrying a case much like the one used to ship his replacement arm.
“Dare I ask what’s in there?”
“It’s the arm you damaged in North Carolina.” He opened the case. “We’re just going to swap out from the elbow down. I’ve got a sling, and you’re to let the wrist and finger damage show.”
“Theater.”
“You’ve got it, Doc. Now let’s get you ready for the cameras.”
The two cycled through the lock. Ian operated the door and was pretending to manage things so that Glenn wouldn’t have to use his left hand. Immediately in front of the airlock were three people, two of whom he immediately recognized—Bill Webb and Nik. The third was in a Space Force uniform; his nametape said “Richardson.”
“Colonel Shepard, so glad to have you back,” Webb told him, as he and Richardson saluted.
Glenn returned the salute stiffly, and awkwardly. The combination of zero gee, damaged left arm and sling made it a bit difficult to keep from flailing around. Ian touched the back of his elbow and helped stabilize him.
Nik floated up and embraced him in a hug. “Buck, up, buddy, here come the thundering hordes,” he whispered.
Extremely bright lights came on and a man with slicked-back hair and a thin mustache pushed a camera and microphone in Glenn’s face. Webb tried to push the man out of the way, but he’d secured himself to a rung on the corridor wall, while Webb was free floating. The gesture had no effect on the journalist.
“Colonel Shepard! Nicholas Steverson, Weekly Solar News. Colonel Shepard, is it true they’re going to make you a scapegoat?”
Glenn recognized the name. Steverson was well known for sensationalism, conspiracy theories, and overall trashy journalism. He was surprised the reporter had managed to penetrate so far through security.
“Colonel Shepard, why did you steal the C-21-MX? What does your family have to say about your actions? You were seen in the company of reporter Jen Butler for a while there—are you two still an item? What does she have to say about you flying off to rescue a former girlfriend?” It all came out in a rush. It seemed as if the man was trying to ensure that his words would be remembered more than Glenn’s. The last part, though, likely cancelled out everything that had come before. “Is it true that NASA and MarsX are trying to cover up an attack by Martians?”
Lieutenant Colonel Webb managed to insert himself between Shepard and Steverson. “Hey, we told you not to do that,” he growled. “Wait your turn.”
Glenn saw Nik turn to Richardson as if to protest, but saw the latter simply turn his head slightly and wink, then turn back to the spectacle with a neutral expression.
Ah, Glenn thought. This is all part of the show.
Webb succeeded in pushing Steverson out of the way this time, and SF security cleared a way for him to proceed to the next compartment, where a small podium was set up. Ian and Webb helped Glenn up to the stand, where he was peppered with questions for fifteen minutes.
The reporters asked about travel on Bat, the effects of high-gee acceleration, how he’d discovered the cause of the illness, how he’d known to check the water tanks . . . There were so many details, and frankly Glenn didn’t know how much he should reveal, saying only that his bionics helped him endure the flight, that spaceflight was mostly boredom punctuated by brief flurries of activity, that he used all of the medical diagnostics at his disposal, and relied on Percheron crew to assist him in his investigations.
He was asked about Captain LeBlanc’s death, and he answered solemnly that copper toxicity had affected her liver, and that the damage had been irreversible. To the best of his knowledge, there had been no public release of information regarding the delusions suffered by many of the crew, so he said nothing about the incidents that happened before the toxicity had become severe. In his mind, certain details could just remain covered by doctor-patient confidentiality.
The next question shook him.
“Doctor . . . Colonel Shepard. Why did Lieutenant Commander Scott die?”
Glenn and Boatright had discussed the fact that someone would ask how the engineer died, but neither of them had expected to be asked why. He looked closely at the woman who’d asked the question. She was short, with reddish hair, and turned up nose. She had a faint Scottish accent, and was using her wristcomm as a recorder.
He knew her instantly. Glenn had studied every patient record, from medical to family history. This was Kirstie Scott, Angus’ sister.
Glenn cleared his throat, looked her in the eye, and began. “Well, Miss Scott. I want to say first, that your brother died a hero. People on Percheron were sick, and they didn’t know why. They felt—and Mission Medical agreed—that food and water contamination was likely, but at the time, we were looking for viral or bacterial contamination. Vacuum and solar radiation are excellent sterilization methods for food, and Lieutenant Commander Scott was securing a portion of the onboard food supplies in Cargo Bay One for just that purpose when the hatch blew off. Angus died of vacuum exposure.”
A murmur went through the crowd of journalists. For most, this was more detail than they’d known.
“Why did the hatch blow, Colonel?” Kirstie continued, in a quiet voice. “Was it a malfunction? An accident? Deliberate?”
The rest of the crowd went silent to wait for the answer.
This is the moment that makes or breaks my career, Glenn thought. If the Powers That Be want to keep this secret, they won’t be happy with me answering her right now.
But I have to.
“It was an accident, Miss Scott. The hatch release was accidently triggered from the bridge.”
“By whom, Colonel Shepard?” Tears streamed down Kirstie’s cheeks.
“Captain LeBlanc triggered the hatch release. The cargo bays are not airlocks, their outer doors open directly to space. The hatch opened, and Angus was pulled out into space.”
“Why? Were you there when it happened?”
“No, ma’am. It was before I was aboard Percheron. As for why? We may never know. Captain LeBlanc was very sick, and we can no longer ask her those questions.” Glenn blinked away his own tears. “By God, I wish I’d been there sooner.”
Kirstie Scott nodded, muttered her thanks, and put away her comm. Webb pushed up to the podium to inform the group that Shepard needed to be seen by the doctors. Richardson floated up to Glenn and directed him to a hatch guarded by USSF security.
The hatch no sooner closed behind them, and Glenn turned on Richardson with fury in his eyes. “Tell me that wasn’t part of your grand plan, your little theater for the masses.”
Richardson held up his hands. “It wasn’t me, and I can assure you it wasn’t the general’s intent.”
“Intent. So, he knew.”
“Not . . . entirely. He brought Miss Scott up here to talk with you. She’s been tormented by her brother’s death, but the plan was for her to meet with you next. In private, not in front of the cameras.”
“Yeah, so I imagine I’ve blown it, now. Whatever clever little story you and Boatright have cooked up is now shredded, and the media now knows Gee went nuts.”
“Actually, Matt LeBlanc filed a freedom of information act request and got all of Commander LeBlanc’s medical data. He’s been talking about it for the past month. All you did was confirm what people already knew.”
“I can’t imagine Space Force will be too pleased by that, though.”
“If you haven’t guessed by now, what the other branches of Space Force think, Boatright doesn’t care. He’s pretty much holding the reins of power, and has been tapped to be the next CSO.”
“You still could have stopped her.”
“I could have, but you’re a hero, Colonel, and the whole world just learned that you’re an honest one. Don’t dismiss the fact that you’re the man of the hour.”
“Well, half-man. The other half is a lot of machinery.”
“Bionic man of the hour. Yes, I could have stopped her, but I didn’t. Anyone who knows you—and by the way, I read every single report you’ve filed, watched four months’ worth of bionic bodycam footage, I think I can truthfully say I know you—know you wouldn’t lie. She needed to hear it from you. The world needed to hear it from you.”
“Hero, yeah. I’m not any such thing. A hero is some poor fool who doesn’t know when to quit. Now, can we get out of here so I can get my arm back?”
CHAPTER 40:
Homecoming
Weekly Solar News @NickSteve
Bombshell Wednesday! Hey viewers, did you see that? Yesterday Shepard admitted that Captain Gee LeBlanc murdered one of her crew . . .
404 NOT FOUND
Weekly Solar News in Exile @EHNickSteve
I will not be silenced! The *Percheron Incident* MUST BE INVESTIGATED!
ChirpChat, March 2044
Glenn’s comm directed him to the visiting officers’ quarters. VOQ space was better than barracks, typically consisting of efficiency and studio apartments for transient officers, or personnel from other branches. Other Percheron personnel would be transferred to O’Neill and Clarke, and then to Earth, as needed for their medical care and reacclimation to full gravity. Glenn, on the other hand, had received orders placing him on temporary duty at Heinlein.
At least he’d been able to put his working arm back on, and Ian had been there to tune it—still not perfect, but considerably better than on Percheron. At least he wouldn’t worry about smashing anything while he slept.
A chime at the door announced Richardson and Nik. The OSI lieutenant colonel was friendly, but formal. He greeted Glenn and apologized for the abrupt introductions earlier. Nik rushed into the room and enveloped Glenn in a hug again.
“Wow, buddy, did you miss me?”
“That’s from Jen. She made me promise. But yes, to be honest, we thought we were going to lose you. Andrew and I . . .” Nik cocked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate Richardson. “Were looking at your bionic cam recordings in real-time—or at least, fifteen minutes delayed—when Yvette locked you in the water tank and started the vacuum purge. That was frightening.”
“What’s going to happen to her?”
“There will be a hearing,” Richardson said. “A formality, because she really can’t be held responsible for her actions while impaired, but there are irregularities from before. It will be more of an inquest than a trial. She’s still one of ours, and the general insists we be fair. People will want answers.”
“Speaking of Boatright, I expected to see him front and center in the greeting party. Jen, too, if she’s been helping him with PR, I would have thought she’d have a hand in it, too.”
“The general intended to be here, and Miss Butler as well. They were at a ceremony at Peterson SFB the day before yesterday, and were supposed to catch the last shuttle to make it here on time. Unfortunately, there was a weather delay; the Springs received thirteen inches of snow. Normally not an issue, but they were flying commercial to New Mexico and the flight was canceled. Driving was also out of the question. Jennifer will be here tomorrow, and the general will pay a visit later.”
“Oh, okay. Ah, where are my manners. Please, sit.” The quarters were compact, but there was a small seating area.
Nik moved to sit down, but Richardson declined. “I should give the two of you time to catch up. Doctor Pillarisetty, you may consider this as part of Colonel Shepard’s homecoming brief—or not. Your choice.” He went out the door and closed it behind him.
The smile finally slipped from Shepard’s face. He looked tired and in pain.
“Hey buddy, welcome home. You look like shit,” he told his friend.
“Just tired. I’ve been up for forty hours getting ready for today, then to get ambushed by Scott’s sister. That was brutal.”
“Yeah, but you handled that in the best way. There had been discussion about how you would handle it—not planned, but just in case someone asked a hard question like that.” Nik smiled. “I told them exactly how it would go and you proved me right.”
“But no one saw fit to warn me?”
“That’s on me. Better for you to react naturally, which you did. The public now sees you as a hero who isn’t afraid to speak the truth.”
“I’m no hero, Nik. I messed up, plenty, including losing another arm, an eardrum, and I’ve got chest twinges. When Space Force sees fit to give me leave, I’ll be headed back to SAMMC, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, me too. Speaking of that, you know Jen will be here tomorrow, Marty’s sorry, but he wasn’t approved for the gees of a conventional launch. If you need him before the Force releases you, he can take a flyer that does the high-altitude launch and a slower transit. He can be here next week if you say the word. Oh, and Jakob says hi. He’s got a new set of legs he wants to show you.”
“I’m sure I’m going to be there soon enough.” Glenn looked at him intently. “Man, Nik. It is so good to see you. The past months have been like a waking nightmare. I’d have given anything to have you squirting me with water anytime I closed my eyes. Hey, I’ve been remiss. How’s Sheila? How are the two of you doing?”
“Not bad, Shep. We’re doing fine, she loves the new clinic and is bossing all of the nurses already. Boatwright actually spun us out of SAMMC and into OSI. In addition to clinic work, he’s had me doing intake interviews and evaluations. Anyone that comes to work for him needs to have a flexible mind and be able to handle the twisted sense of humor like we showed in rehab.”
“Hah! Y’mean like that stupid HR briefing?”
“Good times, my friend. Good times. We still have the recording from the teleconference, you should have seen Boatright laughing at Mizz Click’s face.”
“I never knew that part of him. We’d met of course. He was high up in the Flight Medical branch, and we’ve talked and corresponded many times since, but all very formal.”
“He’s one of us, Shep. Sneaky old bird, too. It was awfully easy for you to stow away on Bat with everything you could possibly need, right? That was him.”
“I know that now. It was obvious in hindsight. I got assigned to the medical review team, then to the Moon where I could test vacuum exos, then Clarke, where they were putting together the load-out for Bat, then having the MILES suit right there.”
“Have you been following ChirpChat? He made it clear that OSI was behind you every step of the way.”
“Machiavelli?”
“More benign than that. Oh, I sometimes catch glimpses of a very dark place inside him. He’s forbidden me from attempting to psychoanalyze him. But he’s a very complex person and I still haven’t figured him out. The important part, though, is that he’s protective of his people. We’re the future, and anyone who works for him will need to deal with people like you, me, Jakob, and the like.”
“All of them? Even ramrod straight, Colonel Richardson?”
“Even him, Shep. You’d be surprised. He’s a decent guy. We talked a lot on the way up, and even before. He came up through JAG, so for legal reasons Boatright inserted him into the communications loop—you know how the Mercury/Gemini/Apollo program had this rule that only astronauts could be ‘capsule communicator’ and speak to the astronauts on orbit? Well, Andrew was your capcomm. Every one of your communications back to Earth went to him first. He’s also the one who arranged a dedicated communication link, and encryption so that I could privately counsel you and the rest of the ship. We talked a lot about your flock—and even about you. He’s very concerned that we make sure you’re in an okay mental state right now. The general trusts him, and I trust him. With his legal background, he’s the one who’s really in charge here on Heinlein no matter what anyone else may think.”
“And what do you think?”
“Me? Not so worried about you. At least not right now. Once they start the court-martial, though . . .”
“Court-martial. Yeah, I knew that had to be coming. Thanks for confirming it,” Glenn said, sarcastically.
“Oh, not yours, Shep. Yvette’s.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh.’ They’ll get to it eventually, but there will be a lot of bluster about flaws in Percheron, first. It’s going to be a media circus and the agencies are promising investigations and hearings to figure out who to blame. I was served with papers to testify—before you even made it back. The process server cornered me while we were waiting for Percheron to dock, so they knew I’d be here. I think they’re expecting to order you—your recall to active duty was formalized when you crossed the threshold down in the docking area. They’ll likely order Jen as well.”
“Order? She’s a civilian. You mean summon.”
“Uh, yeah. Working for Boatright, you tend to forget who’s on which side of the line. The office is very mixed, service and military-civilian, given all of the medical types.”
“Huh. Well, Richardson said something about you starting my debrief?”
“Yes. Right now, if you like. I’ll start with your medical exam.”
“Again? I’ve been poked and prodded already, Nik.”
“Again. I’m your doctor—at least until we decide to bring Marty up. I need a baseline status for my own records. It’s part of the debrief, and I need to record it.” Nik stood up easily in the half gravity and reached for a small black bag he’d left beside the door. He pulled out several instruments, clipped a recorder to the collar of his shirt, instructed Glenn take his off, then started applying sensors.
In between Nik looking in his right eye, ear, clucking over the damaged eardrum, muttering over his blood pressure and heart rate, Glenn continued to talk.
“Okay, now the big question. They are going to let Jen come see me?”
“Let her? It will be impossible to keep her away. If it wasn’t for that delay, she’d have been here for arrival.” Nik stopped his exam for a moment to stare at Glenn. “You do realize you’re a day early, right?”
