After what was only about five minutes, but seemed like half an hour to Joe, he reached the control room for the reactor. The main power-connection modules were set on the far side of the room. Fortunately, setting up a megawatt-capable connection was a lot easier now than it might have been thirty years ago, but he still had considerable work to do, and even following the procedures being projected for him in his own VRD it would take a little while. Obviously you didn't want to interrupt power to the whole base, so he had to arrange a cutout, install the new connection, then remove the cutout, without interfering with other operations.
This would only allow a partial test, of course. To run the ship—if it actually worked, something even A.J. stopped short of asserting as pure fact—would require most of the output of a reactor the size of this one, and of course it would have to be installed on board. But the important test was to see if, in fact, all the work they'd done would permit them to generate the necessary field in vacuum to hold the "dusty plasma" in place.
"How's it coming, Joe?" A.J.'s voice sounded in his ears.
"Not bad. Another half hour, I guess. By the way, we still need to figure out a good way to mop sweat out of people's eyes in these things."
"Yeah, I suppose so. I try to avoid all that sweating, myself."
Joe laughed. "You can't really fool us with that lazy-bum act, you know."
"It's the image. You know that's . . . Hey, what the . . . ?"
"What's up, A.J.?"
"One of Maddie's trip wires just went. Gotta go."
"Really? Okay, later, then." Joe went back to work. There wasn't much he could do in this case, and besides, as both Maddie and A.J. had been gleefully happy to point out in security discussions, there really wasn't anywhere anyone could run.
Well, not for long, anyway. There were miles and miles of Bemmie tunnels, rooms, and so on, only a fraction of them explored so far. But those were all in vacuum, so even if you had a shelter you could only last a short time. And in the open, well, you were obvious. Radiating heat energy like a beacon.
Them trying to get away with something now, that was a surprise. With the Odin pulling out in a matter of hours, already doing maneuvers to be ready to do a safe burn, who'd be stupid enough to try something?
At that moment, God brought a sledgehammer down on top of Joe Buckley.
"The fusion data?" Maddie asked, forehead wrinkled. "That makes no sense at all. Doing it now? When they were about to leave?" She glanced up at another portion of the VRD display, away from A.J.'s face and toward a data section. "Unless . . . There are only three members of Odin's crew still here, on a last trip to retrieve material. If they're working solo . . ."
"You seemed to be surprised about what they were getting. Why's that?" A.J. could ask that in person now, as he had just come around the corner to the central monitoring area. "I got the impression you were about to call me anyway."
"I've found some possible indications that someone might have been tampering with our Bemmius data files, most likely in the astronomical data section. Which makes more sense to me."
A.J. nodded. "Well, you show me the traces, and I'll see if I can verify. Meanwhile you can track down our free-enterprise burglars."
Maddie nodded and sent her gathered data to A.J. He'd been correct that she had literally been moments from contacting him before the alert went off.
A subliminal shudder whipped through the room like a whisper of disaster. The lights flickered and went out, then backup, dimmer LED lighting came on. All her monitors blanked, but not before she had seen something to truly worry her. "What was that?"
"Umm . . . sensor analysis says . . . meteoroid impact. Significant one, too. Location . . . Oh, shit!"
"The reactor?" Maddie's heart seemed to go cold and stop. "But Joe . . ."
"Joe was there in the control room," A.J. said, voice disbelieving. "And the power's gone, which means it either took out the reactor itself or the control and distribution, which was what he was working on."
Madeline was halfway to the door before she remembered. "A.J., the three Odin crewmen—they'd gotten access through the bio library. And just before the monitors went out, I saw Helen there."
"Hold on, don't go anywhere." A.J. was clearly fighting down his own reaction to this news. "We need to coordinate. Suits on. The communication's going to be unreliable in here, but better than nothing. And you were right," he said, pulling on his suit, as Maddie did the same, "someone did mess with our files. It's going to take a while to figure out what they did, exactly, especially now, because I'll have to wait to get back online with the backup copies of our data and do a comparison."
The grim expression on his face was visible even through the faceplate in dim lighting. "I can tell you who did the erasing work."
Madeline took another deep breath as she fitted the helmet on. She knew A.J. was probably still analyzing what data he had available for her, even while he was talking. No point in interrupting. He'd known Joe even longer than she had. He was talking for a reason, but all she could really concentrate on was Joe. For the first time in her life, the only thing that mattered wasn't the mission. "Who was it?"
"Horst Eberhart. That glad-handing, smooth-talking, son-of-a-bitch Eberhart. He's the only guy they have who's that good—better than either of us—and this cover-up virus thingie he made, it's tailored to our setup. Be almost impossible to do by remote. Either he wrote it himself, or he sent someone else all the details on our setup—that he wormed out of me and Jackie, that bastard!—to someone else who did it."
A.J. made another set of control gestures. "Getting something here, now. I can get some of the independent sensor network up. Getting a low-bandwidth link to one of the satellites—dammit, I forgot. Nobel isn't in LOS right now."
"The timing sucks, you know that, A.J.," Maddie said. "Are you sure it wasn't a bomb?"
"Ninety-nine percent sure, yeah. The sensors would've screamed if a rocket or something was shot in this direction. Analysis shows a straight impact event at several kilometers per second, depending on the exact size of the impactor. That was just bad, bad luck on our part. Typical for Joe, of course."
Maddie couldn't exactly relax, but one of the many knots in her gut eased a bit. She really couldn't believe that anyone on Odin would be insane enough to start what would amount to war by blowing up the base. She'd gotten to know enough of them by now. General Hohenheim was a military man, and dangerous in that sense. But he was also a sensible man, not one to go off half-cocked. Even Fitzgerald couldn't be that stupid. She hoped. The three other men, though . . .
She pulled up her own copies of the files she'd managed to accumulate on Odin's personnel. As she'd suspected, all three of these were on her red-flag list, which consisted of seven out of the ten people in Odin's security force, including Richard Fitzgerald himself. All of them had proved to have some nasty histories when she'd used her old HIA contacts to dig on them a bit.
"Well, I've got a bit of good news, I think," A.J. said. "Looks like the impact didn't go straight to the reactor—must have hit the controls. But the tentative data left from the sensors in the area, just before they went down, seems to show that Joe was not in the precise point of impact. And I know he was in his suit." He patted her on the shoulder. "You go get the rescue party together. I'll go get these three clowns and bring them back."
She hesitated. "Are you sure? These people have backgrounds more like mine than yours."
"Like we said before, where are they going? Besides, I'm best suited to get the remote stuff that still has its own power working as I go along. I've got you a link to the satellites now—you should be able to get help. Go save Joe. I'll go make sure Helen's okay."
"Thank you, A.J." She watched for a moment as he went out. "Just be careful."
"These days, I am."
She activated the link. "Nobel, this is Madeline Fathom. Bruce, Jackie, do you copy?"
Bruce's voice came back immediately. "Maddie! It's good to
hear a voice from you again. All telemetry and communications from Ceres just went dead a few minutes ago. What happened?"
"Meteor impact, A.J. says. Took out the control unit for the reactor. We're going to need your help on the ground to put things back together, Jackie."
"Ugh. Well, I think we can probably put something together, but it's going to take time."
"More importantly, Joe was near the impact site. We need to contact him, or find him. If he wasn't"—her voice threatened to do something humiliating like break, but she overrode it—"wasn't killed immediately, there's a very good chance the suit protected him, but he could be hurt or unconscious."
"And the suit can't keep him alive forever. Righto, then, we'll shift orbit around and get a look-see with the Beholders while we're on the way. Backup power working at all?"
"Some is, but the priority is of course for life support. And it won't last forever, either. That's why we have only voice communications and slow data links." She allowed her voice to leave the professional groove for a moment. "Jackie, please, let me know as soon as you get a look at the area. We have to find Joe."
"Don't worry, Maddie. I will. Why don't you get to the landing area, and as soon as we can get Feynman out the doors we'll come down for you."
"Thank you. I'll do that. In the meantime, I have to contact Odin on another matter." Might as well do my job, she thought as she headed for the other door which led more directly to the landing area. She adjusted the transmission frequency. "Odin, come in. This is Madeline Fathom, Ceres Base. Odin, do you read me?"
"This is Odin," came the deep, warm tones of General Hohenheim. "Agent Fathom, is there a problem? We detected a sudden drop in communications."
"We have sustained a small meteor impact, General, but one which hit a critical location. One person who happened to be in the area may be injured, but we haven't verified that. I am calling about another matter, however."
Hohenheim's voice was puzzled. "Another matter? This seems to be one of considerable urgency—"
"If there is anything you can do, I am sure you'll be notified. However, just before this began, I had verified an attempt by three of your crew to obtain restricted information by criminal means. Specifically, James Salczyck, Leo Modofori, and Axel Zaent."
Hohenheim's voice hardened. "This is an extremely serious charge. You have evidence of this, I trust?"
"Our systems did not erase just because power was lost. And I have my own copies of my investigation. I have a great deal of evidence, and we have someone on the way to take them into custody. I intend to have them sent back for trial on Nobel once the immediate crisis is over. Do you have any objection?" This was the first test. If these people were acting under orders, the last thing the general would want is for them to be kept in the custody of others. He would offer to take them back in Odin, which would of course physically make more sense.
"Well . . . No, no, I cannot object. Obviously if it turns out your charges are of no merit, I—and the European Union—will be extremely disappointed in you, and it will have grave repercussions. On the other hand, if what you say is true, you have every right to charge them, and in the spirit of our cooperation I must allow you that right. Now"—his tone shifted slightly—"these three gentlemen did have one of our excursionary vehicles, the Hunin. Could you arrange to have it ferried to us after the crisis is over?"
The second test. "I'm afraid not, General. If these people planned it on their own, considerable evidence of what they intended to do with the information may be on board the vessel they were using, and I will not have time or opportunity to examine the vessel fully until after that time."
There was a moment of silence, during which Madeline reached one of the common areas which was now filled with worried people; she held up a hand to still the questions as the general resumed speaking. "Well . . . I suppose this is sensible. However, you do realize that the lander is an extremely expensive piece of the E.U.'s property, and that it must be returned to us as soon as is practical? Even our generosity has limits, and I assure you it does not extend to indefinitely giving away such a vehicle."
"I fully realize that, General, and as soon as a full forensic examination of the Hunin is complete, we will return it to the E.U. by the fastest practical means, even if we must use a considerable portion of Nobel's capacity to carry it to Earth."
"Then," he answered, courteously, "I have no concerns. Your integrity is well-known. I will of course expect a formal document to this effect, outlining charges, actions to be taken, and the disposition of the Hunin, but deliver that after you have taken care of your emergency. Good luck, and please let us know if you require anything from us in assistance. Odin out."
"Thank you, General. Ceres out."
She looked around at the worried faces. Time to explain. And to hope.
Chapter 22
Helen was startled as the lights went out just as she entered the room. She'd been about to talk to the three men by the main bio console. They'd been clustered around, looking at something in a way that somehow didn't look right, but the sudden darkness distracted her.
A moment later, the emergency lights came on. She glanced around, puzzled. "What in . . . ?"
"Damn," said one of the men, a short, whip-thin blond.
"Just as well," said the second. His calm baritone voice and athletic build rang a bell. She knew this one somewhat—Modofori, that was it. "We might have tripped something, and—"
"Leo!" the third one interrupted, having looked up to see Helen standing there.
The three turned to face her. There was something in their expressions she didn't like, although that could just be the sinister tint from the reddish emergency lighting. "Wonder what took out the lights?" she said, figuring that was a relatively neutral topic.
"No idea," Modofori said. He looked concerned—and, strangely, a bit angry. "Um, Dr. Sutter—or would that be Baker?"
"Either will do, though I use Sutter professionally."
"Dr. Sutter, then." He looked around the room. "You know anything about the backups on this base? How long the air will last?"
That was an unpleasant thought. The lights had been known to flicker on rare occasion before, usually when someone was cranking up a high-power experiment or piece of machinery, but not stay out for any length of time. "Not offhand, sorry. If A.J. were here, I'm sure he'd have it down to the second."
"Maybe we'd better suit up," the third man said uneasily. He shifted his massive, squat frame to reach his spacesuit's case. People generally carried the suits with them, even though it was much easier to do work with them off in areas that were kept pressurized.
"Good idea, Jimmy," Modofori said. "But keep the helmets off. If air is going to be an issue, we want to save the stuff in our suits for last."
Helen, meantime, had been trying to reach the rest of the base. Her gut tightened. "I can't get through to anyone outside. Communications are down, too."
The three men looked at each other. The first man opened his mouth to say something, but Modofori gave a quick shake of his head. "That's . . . odd," he said. There was a moment of silence. "Well, we were just about to leave, anyway. Come on," he said to the others. "We've got stuff to take back to Odin before she leaves."
The one he'd called Jimmy glanced in her direction again and then whispered something to Modofori. Helen definitely didn't like the way this looked. She turned to the other door. "Nothing much for me to do here, either, not with the power off. Have a nice trip home."
The sound of movement behind her gave her a split-second's warning. She tried to move aside, but the reflexes of avoidance were still back on Earth, and she bounced more upward than sideways. Jimmy, his heavy form under more control, caught her leg and then spun, bringing her forcefully against the wall. She felt rather than heard a sort of crunching, cracking noise as her nose hit the flat surface, and blinding pain rocketed through her face. The concussion dazed her, and she wasn't quite clear on what happened next. By the
time her eyes properly refocused, they were all in one of the corridors, a furiously heated discussion going on between the three men in a mixture of languages. She'd gotten used to this kind of discussion, and it wasn't that hard to translate. Unfortunately so, in this case, because as it turned out she really wasn't sure she wanted to know what they were saying.
"—asshole, we could have just walked." That was the shorter skinny one, dragging her by her right side.
"You saw how she was looking. She'd have sounded the alarm, if we hadn't tripped it already. And this can't be a coincidence." That was Jimmy, on her left. Ceres' gravity made her easy to carry, but two people could guide her more easily than one. Mass was not changed by gravity shifts.
"You think it's on purpose? How? And why? If it was a setup, what's to gain?"
"Shut up," Modofori said. The other two immediately silenced themselves.
Helen's communicator beeped. "Helen?" came the muffled voice of A.J.
Modofori shook his head. "Why does hers work when ours don't?"
"Helen? Answer me, please!" She was tempted to try to answer, but she suspected the result would be painful. Whatever these people were up to, they were serious.
Modofori fiddled with his radio. "Nothing on our frequencies. Don't know which one she's on."
A.J.'s tone changed, this time to the sharp, wiseass tone that preceded a truly heroic temper tantrum. "Modofori, Zaent, Salczyck, if you are there, better answer this, or you're not going to like it."
At their names the odd trio had stumbled, bumping into each other and jostling Helen. Something just brushed her nose, and she almost screamed in pain.
"Damn." Modofori grabbed the communicator. "What is it?"
She could just make out A.J.'s face on the little screen. "We know what you were up to, guys. Now it's over. Head to the main lounge and give yourselves up."
"I don't think so." Modofori looked like he was thinking furiously. "I'll call you back when I am ready to talk to you. And in the meantime, you remember whose communicator you were calling on. And stay quiet." He pointed the communicator camera in Helen's direction. "See? Now, I'll call back on this communicator when I'm ready. And if you play along, I think everyone can come out of this okay. If not . . ."