Regan's Reach 2: Orbital Envy (10 page)

With a click, the German was gone. The tall Englishman stood and walked to the bar of the Koru lounge. He examined the details on his Business Class ticket; Sydney for some R&R, then Singapore and home. He poured himself another glass.

* * *

Rod poured the last of the bottle into his glass. As he lifted it to his lips the stains on his sleeve caused him to shudder. "You took Leah . . . somehow . . . and you just left me there, why?" He sounded disappointed, disappointed and annoyed. He recommenced pacing the floor of his room, more than a little confused. No word yet from his command even though his report checked and agreed with Ham, was dispatched almost immediately on return. There had been nothing from The STEIN and nothing, until now, from Ham.

"I think quickly Rod."

"You didn't answer Ham, why her and not me?"

"I trust Leah, call it intuition."

"Oh, you have intuition now?"

"This reaction, from the man so interested in all our technology, hmm, not exactly convincing. Actually I'm talking about Regan's intuition. She trusts Leah and if she trusts her that's good enough for me."

"She said we were a team."

"It was a term she used casually, and yes, there
is
potential, but you're not there yet, not by a long way."

"Uh huh, so how does a person get
there
?" he collapsed into a chair.

"Well Rod, first you have to get through me."

Rod swilled the last of his drink around in the glass, eyes glazed as if hypnotized by the clinking, swirling cubes slowly melting to nothing. He looked glum. "I don't understand this. I've only been here . . . shit; you could measure it in hours!" He said it as if he was amazed at some change in him . . . as if he was on the verge of something unthinkable.

"In my experience when people enter the realm of Regan, it's like that. Things happen. It's as if everything that went before, they realize was structured, walled, regular, and predictable and then somehow, I see it in their eyes, they feel like they've entered another dimension. Around Regan everything seems possible, more immediate, spur of the moment, outside all boundaries, and you get the feeling things are going to continue to happen, usually good things."

"You feel it too?" Rod was sitting up now, shaking his head.

"I see it, I experience it, and I admire it. It's easier to swim with schools, always in the same direction. It takes courage to swim the other way. Regan's not afraid to make her own decisions about the direction she swims. We see it and we like it. Rod, I have some advice for you, there are probably many secrets to success. One I like is this. Prepare for opportunity when it comes."

Rod slid back in the seat reflecting. "What has that got to do with this? Shit I've been preparing all my life. I'm primed for action."

"Exactly . . ."

"What are you saying?"

"I guess Rod, the question is, is this opportunity, here,
the
opportunity of your lifetime?"

"I'm military."

"Boundary thinking Rod, you're a man, currently in the military."

For a few minutes nothing more was said.

"Are you offering me a job?"

"Again, boundary thinking, do you need a job? Or are you the sort of person people want to have in their team. Do you want security of a formal position, or would you prefer we couldn't do without you? What sounds better? What sort of person are you?"

"Shit, what are you, a motivator or something?"

"If that's a big part of what you need you're not right for here."

"I'm my own man, I'll never compromise my integrity, and part of that is that I'm no spy, not for them or you. And, I'm an American, I won't betray my country. I'll defend it to my death."

"And so will Regan. Your thinking is all one country against another, again, boundaries. That's not how Regan thinks. You need to know that Regan, and there are many others, would also fight to defend America, Russia, China, in fact every nation; but not just so that any one of them, or any group comes out top dog."

Rod slumped deeper into his chair. "I haven't even heard from my superiors, what does that tell you?"

"You won't hear from them for a while."

"I won't?"

"No, you've been seconded to Hillary Station; a special request was made to the President."

Rod sat bolt upright. "What special request . . . by whom?"

"By me."

* * *

The STEIN Traveler

Leah lay on the wide bunk, hands at her sides, feet together, staring glazed and blank at the ceiling. It was an unconscious pose, like the woman she had laid out in the Medlab. She couldn't think of it as Regan. For the moment she couldn't bring herself to picture the damage, and was already trying unsuccessfully to blot out the memory. For her there had been no screaming distraction of departure, no sonic boom. In the Interceptor everything was calm. She hadn't even known they were taking off. All she knew at that moment was lying on the body, raising her head to see the gaping hole, the blood and brain, the bile in her own throat, choking back the vomit, desperately, hopelessly trying to do CPR. Then the cold, Hams voice telling her to step back, rolling away to sit, back to the wall, hands over her face, peering between her fingers in horror, and the frost appearing, a blue light, The body encased and chilled, like a cadaver. And she remembered losing it at that point, beginning to sob uncontrollably, but not for long.

Hours it had seemed, probably less, and then the doors opened, the gurney waiting. This was better ground, less shame and she had handled herself well she knew. Lifting the chilled body she hadn't sobbed, not once and following it down the corridor into the Medlab had been fine, awful but fine. Then removing the suit she had sobbed just once, as she reached for the nub at the neck, just moving to instruction but she couldn't help pausing, and looking and realizing . . . She sobbed again, rolling back into a foetal curl.

Ham watched, monitoring and concerned. At some level, he wanted to help but he was busy, very busy. Busy searching, somewhere else in the ship, groping in darkness or so it seemed, looking for something, anything, more than data, more than information, some spark . . . to relight a fire.

[Halloo! Can you hear me?]

[Are you there?]

[Shit, shit, shit . . . Are you there . . . Anywhere? Hello . . .]

Words there, floating, having the sense of presence, of tangible reality but no connection, to anything and no meaning.

Replay them.

[Halloo! Can you hear me?]

[Are you there?]

[Shit, shit, shit . . . Are you there . . . Anywhere? Hello . . .]

Replay them!

[Halloo! Can you hear me?]

[Are you there?]

[Shit, shit, shit . . . Are you there . . . Anywhere? Hello . . .]

Replay them . . .?

[Halloo! Can you hear me?]

[Are you there?]

[Shit, shit, shit . . . Are you there . . . Anywhere? Hello . . .]

. . . . . . Ham? . . .

[Ham . . . ?] . . . [Is that you? What happened? Where am I?]

And immediately there was a view. A woman's body, familiar, naked, lying on a gurney, face up with hands at sides. It was a right side profile, the body very still. Other than the woman the room from this perspective was empty. But it was the Medlab she knew. On second glance the tubes were obvious, from the nose and stomach. The skin looked very pale although the legs, arms and torso were well muscled, chiseled in fact. The woman looked very fit and healthy.

[Ham . . . ?] . . . [That's me isn't it? Why am I there, on that Gurney? I shouldn't even be in the Medlab]

There was no reply.

[What's going on Ham?]

[Ham?]

A pause . . . the sense that he was going to speak, then . . .

[I thought it best we start here . . . begin with the least disturbing view]

[The least disturbing . . . ? I don't understand. Something's happened, I can . . . feel it, I don't like this, why am I on the Gurney?] . . . [I can't remember . . .]

Silence . . .

[Ham . . . ?] . . . [I'm looking at myself there aren't I? How can I be looking at myself on the Gurney? Oh shit Ham, what's happened, I'm looking at myself . . . I'm looking at myself and you're not saying anything]

[I'm still listening; I'm just . . . giving you some time to process this. As I said, I thought it best to start with the least disturbing view, give you time to adjust like]

[Give me time to adjust!] . . . [That's my . . . body! I'm looking at it, I don't like this . . . I don't like it at all]

[Ok . . .
now
that you're adjusted, brace yourself . . . there's really no easy way to go about this]

The view began to pan, slowly from the right, sliding up over the prone woman. It was perfection in form, an athlete's body in the peak of physical condition. A body so familiar to the viewer she could be looking in a mirror, except for, as it came into view, the large section of head missing on the upper left side.

[I . . .]

[I . . .]

[I . . . am . . . dead . . . oh fuck me . . . I'm dead aren't I? Ham, answer me, I'm dead!]

[Regan, Regan, calm down . . . you're so prone to exaggeration. Clearly you are not dead; your body is in good shape and thriving . . . for the moment. Except for that . . . cosmetic issue, all is good. Knowing how important appearances are to you I knew this would be a shock so I decided to take it slowly]

[Slowly . . . You call that slowly? Your bedside manner . . . shit! Ham, what have you done to my head?]

[Seriously? Now I'm offended. How could you think I would do that? After all we've been through. Clearly, if you just look closely . . . although . . . I wouldn't recommend it] He continued quickly [You have been struck by a fast moving projectile entering around the left eye with an upward trajectory and moving from centre to the left. Unfortunately this has removed a significant section of the left brain, my backup and a significant portion of your existing neural web. Oh, and your left ear failed to come back with you as you can see]

Silence . . .

[Regan?]

Silence . . .

[Regan?]

[Ham . . . we're still talking. How can we still be talking if half my brain is gone and the device is shredded?]

[Ahem. . .] There followed a guttural sound, the impossible sound of an uncomfortable throat clearing, and a pause.

[Weell . . . about
that
we need to talk . . . again . . . about executive decisions]

[Oh . . . and Regan . . . a seat won't be necessary for this]

* * *

. . . Two minds, as one, looking at a familiar, cruelly damaged form.

[You were saying?]

It was a weird sensation; even for him . . . Ham could sense her words were framed distantly, as if spoken while looking at something else, the body lying there no doubt. It distracted him, this . . . 'something new' experience.

[Sorry?]

She continued [You were saying, about executive decision making] the sense of her distance was still there, and then it changed. He experienced the distinct sensation of her focus turning, and boring, into him. It was unsettling.

[Yes . . . it started to happen early, you remember, years ago now. You asked me, where do I start and you stop? Remember?]

[Not really, I remember wondering when the answers to my questions were coming faster and faster. I wondered whether it was getting to the point that you knew the question before I asked it]

Ham could again sense her attention was shared. The words with him, her thoughts drifting back to the form, chilled, almost lifeless.

[How long has it been Ham, since I was . . . shot?]

[Not long Regan, hours, not days, that's why we must move soon,
if
we're going to]

[
If
we're going to . . . what does that mean] She paused, as if thinking then changed tack [So, you were going to say something, about executive decisions]

[I didn't plan this Regan, not originally; it just started to happen, the processing of your thoughts, answering questions, experiencing feelings, your vision. All of it is . . . was . . . data to me interpreted, stored, and retained. The ability to do that has grown exponentially as time has gone by. Where do I start and you stop? Trust me, we're still distinct. But all that
was
in there,
sorry to put it so bluntly
,] and she knew he meant the head, [became interpretive data to me, whether a sight, a thought, a memory, a biological, physiological genetic instruction, everything was readable, storable . . . so I did . . . store it]

[You backed me up?]

[Sort of]

[Not sort of, you backed me up, without asking]

[Not strictly true, we agreed, you have my back, and I have yours]

[That was back, not back up, and you know it!]

[Well, the principle still holds true, and aren't you glad?] As if by some common purpose focus again turned to the still body.

[You should have told me]

[This is different Regan. To not retain this information is unthinkable, I can't forget or lose it . . . it's just there. However truthfully, until you replied to me just a few seconds ago I had no idea whether 'you' would be in here, and I can't tell you how glad I am you were.

[It's been only seconds? you're kidding me]

[Everything happens much faster in here. And talking of speed, Regan, we need to discuss options]

[Why didn't you take me straight to a hospital?]

[You really need to ask? Look at that head! Regan . . . they would have turned you off! I couldn't let that happen, not without trying first. I promised. I've . . . got . . . your . . . back. What is hard to understand about that?]