Probability Space (39 page)

Amanda suddenly felt dizzy.

She couldn’t do it. Could she?

“Konstantin, how long did this message take to … what are you doing?”

“I to take message of your father from transmitter at copy. To leave it here, under rocks of Mars, you to get back later. Message of Marbet Grant, I to transmit. She say to retransmit. But we to save message of your father for you to keep always!”

He pulled a data cube from the transmitter, grabbed her hand, and dragged her after him in no particular direction that Amanda could see. Stooping, he shoved the data cube under a pile of reddish and black rocks and began pulling her back toward the transmitter.

“Now I to retransmit message of Marbet Grant. Soldiers, they to track message, yes? To take my transmitter. Yes, for sure. Not very much of time!”

Take the transmitter! His words hardened Amanda’s idea. An insane idea, but … she needed that transmitter!

“Konstantin,” she said, as fast as she thought his English could follow, “how much time is left before Tunnel number one closes? My father said five hours, but if you sent a message now, I mean, if you sent a message to the tunnel, would it get there before it closes? Would it?”

He stared at her. “Yes. Transmission time is … I to think hard … to think where tunnel is from Mars orbit … maybe four hours ten minutes. But, Ah-man-dah, if your father is injury—”

“He’s not injured! At least … I don’t know! I do know Admiral Pierce is going to kill him!”

“But … if Admiral Pierce to kill Dr. Capelo, your father will not to have receiver on your message!”

“I know. I know that.” Her hands moved by themselves on his arms; she couldn’t seem to hold them still, and suddenly she remembered how Admiral Pierce’s long-fingered hands had twitched in Lowell City. Horrible, terrible man … “I don’t want to send the message to my father.”

“Then who … look, land rover. It will to look by us.”

“Get down!” She pulled him onto the ground. It felt freezing through her suit. They could find her and Konstantin by heat signature, of course, even Amanda knew that. She didn’t have much time. Konstantin picked up a heavy rock and drew his arm back to smash it down on the transmitter. Amanda grabbed him. “Don’t do that!”

“But your father say to destroy—”

“I know what he said. But wait just a minute, Konstantin. Konstantin … do you love me?”

He peered at her in astonishment. “Yes!”

“Then will you do anything I ask? To save my father?”

“Yes!” Then, more cautiously, “What I to do?”

“Admiral Pierce is on the other side of Space Tunnel Number One. It’s going to dose in less than five hours. You told me, keep telling me, said to me…” She couldn’t get her thoughts straight, couldn’t make them march in straight neat lines. Her hands plucked ceaselessly at his arms. The land rover appeared above the dark horizon, a moving shadow against the sky.

“… said to me that your father has flyers everywhere. And you have the codes to send them places. Send an Ouranis Enterprise flyer through the tunnel to tell Admiral Pierce your father said the admiral should stay on that side of the tunnel for a few hours more!”

Through his faceplate, with its faint internal light, Konstantin’s dark eyes bored into Amanda’s. He looked different. Not the boy who held her hand, who kissed her, who talked funny sweet English at her … He wasn’t going to do it. It had been a stupid idea anyway, an insane idea …

He said, “Admiral Pierce to kill your father. Dr. Capelo say, I to believe. No persons never should to kill great scientist. Scientists very great, more great from admirals. My father not to think this. I think this.”

She didn’t know what to say, afraid to interrupt him.

Konstantin sat up and fiddled with the slightly bashed transmitter. He coded manually, and then began to talk in Greek. Amanda, listening on the connected private channel, was amazed at his voice. It sounded all different. Deeper, harsher …
older
.

She had no idea what he was actually saying.

The rover suddenly turned and began to move purposively toward them. It had picked up their heat signature.

Konstantin talked faster. At the end he snapped something very loud and cut the transmission. Amanda drew away from him, suddenly frightened. But a second later he was young Konstantin again, pulling her to her feet, his arm gently around her.

“I say is…” a Greek word. She looked at him blankly. He tried again. “I say is many persons to hurt the admiral. He must to go not at Solar System until my father say yes. For his safe.”

“You told Admiral Pierce there was a conspiracy,” Amanda said. “A … a revolution like the one where he killed Stefanak. Only this time against him, and your father is warning him to wait to come back. Is that right?”

“Yes. Splendid,” Konstantin said, and Amanda felt dizzy all over again. Would Admiral Pierce really listen to Mr. Ouranis and stay on the other side of the tunnel until it closed? Only if he didn’t know it was going to close. Did he know? Would he listen to Mr. Ouranis?

Who was really Konstantin.

Who was really her, telling an admiral what to do.

“Say nothing, Ah-man-dah,” Konstantin whispered fiercely. The rover was almost upon them. “Message of your father is by transmitter since. And they will to trace message anyway, but not too soon enough, I think. Maybe. Flyers of my father will to go fast.”

“But—”

“Say nothing at peoples by this rover!” Konstantin said, and smiled at the suited figures rushing toward him, his hand raised in greeting.

*   *   *

Soldiers. Again. This time they didn’t take her to Lowell City. They brought her and Konstantin back to Aunt Kristen’s house, and crowded the four of them—Amanda, Konstantin, Uncle Martin, Aunt Kristen—into the storage closet. The only room in the apartment without terminal connections. The soldiers were very polite. Was that because of Konstantin? He had told them his name. But they’d been polite to Amanda before, too. It was creepy.

She said to Uncle Martin, wedged in beside her, “Did you get Marbet’s message?”

He put a finger to his lips:
Don’t say anything
. Surveillance? In a closet? Still, she nodded.

Aunt Kristen was pushing boxes on top of each other, shoving things onto already overloaded shelves. “If we didn’t own so much damn junk … Martin, I told you last year we should dump these old books … There. Now I think at least there’s room for everybody to sit down.”

There was, just barely. Amanda was jammed dose to Konstantin. She didn’t mind.

He had really done it. Sent the message to his father’s flyers. For her.

Aunt Kristen was bent over. Amanda couldn’t see what her aunt was doing until Aunt Kristen unobtrusively passed her a tiny piece of paper, torn from one of the old books. On it Aunt Kristen had written WE GOT THE MESSAGE AND SENT IT ON TO NEWS STATION.

Amanda nodded and passed the bit of paper to Konstantin. He frowned at it, and she remembered that he couldn’t read English. Pretending to stroke Amanda’s hair, Aunt Kristen plucked the message from Konstantin and, the next moment, ate it.

Amanda giggled.

Aunt Kristen looked at her severely, but not more severely than Amanda reprimanded herself. What was she thinking … giggling! When they were imprisoned here and might die and Daddy might be killed, too …

But Aunt Kristen had gotten the story to the news people. Whatever the story
was
. Whatever Marbet had said. So that might protect them. And Konstantin had told his father’s flyers to keep Admiral Pierce on the other side of the space tunnel …

How could a space tunnel close? Amanda had no idea. But her father said they were. Oh, close fast, close with the horrible Admiral Pierce on the other side!

“What time is it?” she asked aloud. Surely that sounded innocent enough. The soldiers had taken all their watches, comlinks, jewelry.

“At ten-thirty, I think,” Konstantin said. He shot Amanda a glance.

Ten-thirty. What time had Konstantin sent the message? Amanda didn’t know. Four hours and ten minutes, he’d said, for the message to reach Mars. She remembered from school that c was three hundred thousand kilometers per second. She tried to do the math to see how far away her father was, but failed. It was too hard to concentrate.

How long were they going to be kept in this stupid closet?

The night wore on. Uncle Martin was talking, reciting some old poem, probably from his English classes. Amanda wasn’t listening. Drowsiness kept sneaking up on her, although how could anybody sleep at a time like
this
? She was a cretin! But she was so tired …

“‘Here, where the world is quiet;

Here where all trouble seems

Dead winds’ and spent waves’ riot

In doubtful dream of dreams,’”

Uncle Martin’s voice said, and then, later, “‘And everything but sleep.’”

Only once did Amanda wake completely. She lay against Konstantin, her head and shoulders almost collapsed in his lap. The closet light had burned out, or been put out. She felt his hand caress her breast. Instantly Amanda was wide awake.

Without thinking, she bolted upright. There was no room to get away. But she could feel his ear, right there beside her head, and she leaned as dose to it as she could get, feeling the blood rush into her face as she whispered desperately.

“Konstantin, no, please … I’m only fourteen!”

And Amanda Capelo burst into tears.

THIRTY-THREE

SPACE TUNNEL #1

F
or hours, Kaufman lay strapped naked on the medical table in the bare room. Expecting to be killed at any moment, he minded that less than he minded his own thoughts. He had botched it. Regret gnawed at him like rats.

The Solar System would never know that Admiral Pierce had recklessly risked the very fabric of spacetime in his megalomaniac grab for power. Undoubtedly a story would be concocted to blame the closing of the space, tunnels on the Fallers. The war would be over. Lyle Kaufman and Marbet Grant and Thomas Capelo, the three who knew the truth, would quietly disappear. Most of the people who knew Tom and Marbet and Kaufman even still existed would be closed off on the other side of Space Tunnel #1, light-years distant. The few who knew on this side of the tunnel would be silenced with promotions or death.

Of course, Tom’s message would reach Carol and Sudie and Amanda (if Amanda was still alive). What would Pierce do about that? Probably threaten Carol into silence. Carol had Sudie to protect; it wouldn’t be hard to keep her quiet.

Kaufman should have prepared a full statement, beamed it out the second he passed through Space Tunnel #1, notified the entire Solar System of what Pierce had done. Well, he had been too busy staying alive to think of that.

No excuse. If he had succeeded in telling the media what had happened, Pierce would have had him killed. But that was going to happen anyway, to all three of them. Unless Pierce decided to keep Capelo alive in secret, as Stefanak had done, Capelo’s brain held hostage to his family’s welfare.

Kaufman’s fault. He had not planned, had not seen far enough ahead. Failure of vision was a sin the universe did not forgive. As a result, Admiral Nikolai Pierce was going to be a hero of sorts, Pyrrhic victor in the war with the Fallers, that diabolical enemy who had closed the stars to mankind. And Marbet would die, Capelo might die, Kaufman would certainly die. Magdalena was already dead. And Laslo, and perhaps Amanda. His fault.

The door opened and an officer entered. This was it, then. Kaufman would have liked to see Marbet one more time.

“Colonel Kaufman, put these on, please, sir.” The young man carried a full dress uniform.

Kaufman said dryly, “Full uniform is necessary for this?”

“Yes, sir.” He unstrapped Kaufman and left the room.

Kaufman put on the uniform he hadn’t worn for two years. It was better than dying naked. The ceremonial sword was missing; Kaufman wasn’t surprised.

However, the next events astonished him. The officer returned, saluted smartly, and said, “This way, please, sir. The others are already assembled and the admiral is on his way.”

Others? Admiral Pierce? No, Pierce would be back on Mars. More debriefing wasn’t necessary, not with truth drugs. So what was happening?”

Kaufman didn’t ask. He observed everything he could as the officer led him down a long corridor. Bulkheads and deck shone; sailors looked like recruiting holos; the air completely lacked the odors and staleness of intensive recycling. They were on a big structure, a station or a flagship.

“In here, sir,” the officer said, opening the door and stepping respectfully aside to let Kaufman pass.

“Hello, Colonel Kaufman,” said a tall thin man in the SADA uniform of a three-star general. Kaufman didn’t recognize him, but there was no mistaking the air of authority. This was the fleet commander.

“Sir,” he said neutrally, not saluting. Technically, he was retired. Five other soldiers stood slightly behind the commander, two two-star generals and three bird colonels.

The door opened again and a lieutenant escorted in Marbet Grant. Gladness swept through Kaufman. Marbet wore a sailor’s tunic and pants; probably no other clothing had been available aboard ship. They were too big for her. Whatever injury she’d sustained to her rib had been repaired, or at least rendered temporarily insignificant by casts and drugs. Her bright green eyes smiled at him, and then studied everyone in the room, one by one. She didn’t look uncertain. Did that mean she knew what was going on?

“Ms. Grant,” the commander said, without warmth. Kaufman recognized the familiar antipathy toward a Sensitive. The commander added to the lieutenant, “Where is Dr. Capelo?”

“He’s being brought from Medical, sir. They’re on their way.”

“Colonel Kaufman, Ms. Grant, sit down, please. I’m General Rickman Dvorovenko, Commander, Space Tunnel Number One Defense Fleet. I’ve brought—”

“Lyle! I thought you were dead,” Tom Capelo said from the doorway. “In fact, I thought I was dead, too. This is your doing, isn’t it, Marbet? Clever, sneaky lady. I’d take my metaphorical hat off to you if I could move my non-metaphorical arm.”