Okay.
Not tonight, though. Time you got some sleep. I’ll wake you when we get to Mexico.
The fact was that Alec had already had sleep, hours of it; as far as his body was concerned it was only about ten o’clock in the morning. He thought of Mendoza, staring up at him, and felt a pang. How to tell the Captain about her? As soon as this Mars thing was behind them …
Okay. Wow, I’m glad to have you back!
Effortlessly he surfaced from cyberspace to the real quarterdeck, and went off to his cabin to get out of the subsuit. Billy Bones and Flint crawled after him. The Captain watched him go, wondering how to tell Alec about
Adonai.
However he brought the subject up, now wasn’t the time. As soon as they’d finished this bloody stupid trip to Mars …
Balkister and the rest of the Resistance were gathered on the pier when Alec arrived, having heroically brought down all the contraband. The eastern sky paled as they loaded the crates across the deck of the
Captain Morgan
and down through her cargo bay, into the waiting hatch of the shuttle. They worked with only the occasional jolly jape, because they were weary and hung over, and the business didn’t seem nearly so much fun now that it was almost accomplished. Alec let them do the heavy work. He busied himself loading on rations for a week, spare clothing, and a very large black suitcase.
Shortly before sunrise Alec climbed into the shuttle again. He gave a last thumbs-up to Balkister, who saluted him, then scrambled back as the shuttle roared to life and rose up through the air. The Resistance crowded together in the hold, staring up to watch. The shuttle became a spark of fire, meeting at last the light of the sun below the horizon. Finally it became too tiny to make out
“Well, that’s that,” said Magilside. There was a soft chiming sound.
“Cargo hatches will close in three minutes,”
announced a male voice, polite but with a certain rough edge. “
Please vacate cargo hold at once. Thank you.”
“I suppose we’d best go ashowe,”said Binscarth, looking around in longing. “Pity we can’t just cwuise away, isn’t it? I’m sure Checkerfield wouldn’t mind, and the accommodations are much nicer …”
“Don’t be a blockhead,” Balkister said sternly. “Do you want to be on board this ship if the owners of that shuttle catch up with it?”
“Oops! Hadn’t thought of that.” Binscarth giggled. “You’re wight, of course. Just like you to have thought out all the details, Giles. But that’s why you’re the natuwal leader, after all.”
“Cargo hatches will close in two minutes and thirty seconds,”
the male voice warned.
“Right,” said Balkister. “Let’s go, fellow freedom fighters. On to the rendezvous.”
As he led the way out of the hold and across the deck, Balkister swaggered, had a certain deadly glint in his eye. For the first time in his life, he wished he had a sword to brandish.
The Resistance went back up the stairs to the house, where they piled into a series of expensive offroad agcars and sped away for the nearest airport. Alone on the beautiful blue bay, the
Captain Morgan
put out to sea and tacked around, moving out under power for Panama. The white house stood deserted.
Alec watched breathlessly as the Earth became a sphere under him. It was just like every picture and film he’d ever seen, but it was still beautiful, still terrifying. He peered ahead at the red dot in the sky that was his destination, then back at the dwindling Earth. He made out North and South America and the wasp-waist that joined them, and he wondered how the
Captain Morgan
fared.
Not to worry, lad. She’s fair on course for the canal, and then home to the Caribbean
.
Great. Are you feeling cramped in there, Captain, sir?
Alec said, referring to the big black suitcase.
No worse’n you must be, lad.
It’ll be
a short trip, at least
. Alec yawned and stretched. He looked around at the space in which he was to live for the next week. There wasn’t much, to put it mildly. The crates of weapons had nearly filled the passenger area, leaving him enough room to stand, sit, and lie down. By turning sideways he could squeeze through to the shuttle’s lavatory. His movement was further inhibited because the artificial gravity system seemed to be overcompensating, making him feel heavy and clumsy. It didn’t matter. This time next week …
So, Captain, sir. I had this sort of adventure whilst I was making off with the time shuttle
.
So did I. What sort of adventures?
Well, I met this girl
.
Did you, now, lad? And where might this girl have been?
She was marooned on this island in prehistoric times. She’s a political prisoner, Captain! Or a corporate prisoner, I guess. Of Dr. Zeus. Now that I think about it I must have been on Catalina Island all along. Moved through time but not space, maybe. Anyhow I made a rough landing and she rescued me when I blacked out. I spent a whole day there. I, er, spent the night there.
With the girl.
Uh-huh. And we just … hit it off. She’s been stranded at this agricultural station since she was a kid. Dr. Zeus has her doing hard labor, and she’s the only living soul there. I promised I’d come back and rescue her. And—
And what, Alec?
And marry her, too.
Bloody hell, boy, what did you go do that for?
Look, I know how you felt about Lorene and, er, Courteney. This is different.
Alec, how long were you there?
Okay so we spent twenty-four hours together. All right? But if you’d been there, Captain, sir, you’d understand. She saved my life.
Is she the one as gave you the drug for the time shock?
So you noticed? Yes, she did.
Hm.
Plus she showed me the algorithm for getting back through time.
She did, eh?
Yeah. And … she let me in on some of Dr. Zeus’s secrets.
When the Captain responded after a moment’s pause, there was a decidedly funny tone in his voice.
What might her name be, now, this girl you met?
Mendoza.
This time there was an even longer pause before the Captain responded.
The botanist Mendoza.
Yeah, I guess she’s a botanist. She says Dr. Zeus knows everything that’s going to happen in the future, but only up to the year 2355, and they’re running scared because of it.
That’s true. I’d found that much out, afon that bronze son of a whore walked in. The Company’s got no idea why they never get any transmissions from after that point in time. They guard what they do know of the future like a treasure map; it’s called the Temporal Concordance. Even their own operatives only get little slices of it, on a need-to-know basis.
The little girl had told him the truth! Alec grinned, absurdly relieved.
And she says she thinks I’m the reason why the Silence falls. She told me about the way time travel works, too, and something called the Variable permewhatsis—
Variable permeability of the temporal fabric?
Yeah! You see? This girl is really different.
She’s different, all right.
After we rescue her, maybe she can help me bring down Dr. Zeus. She knows a lot of classified stuff.
She might, at that.
Another long silence. At last the Captain said:
Maybe we’ll trust her. She’d make a rare prize, anyway … So, matey. We finish this job, and we’ll go back to that station and make off with her. You’ll have yer way. But this one yer going to introduce to yer old Captain. I’ve a fancy to have a talk or two with the lady, private-like.
Okay! You’ll like her, I know you will.
Happen I will, lad Happen I will.
The shuttle sped on, across the waste of stars, as the blue ball shrank and the red dot grew bigger.
There had been a time when the distance to the red planet had been measured in thirty-six years. One day it had suddenly become a possibility, a matter of two years; then the estimated time needed to get there had dropped to a year, and not long after that to six months. As the decades of technological innovation went by on Earth, the calculation of time for the journey kept getting shorter, until after antigravity was rediscovered and it had condensed to a round-trip time of one week.
Three days out, Alec was heartily sick of the cramped quarters in the time shuttle. The damp carpet had begun to
smell funny and the shuttle’s lavatory was worse. Not even the irradiated Christmas cake had given him any sense of the holiday. He’d attempted to celebrate by singing a few carols to himself, but the effect was too depressing. Light conversation with the Captain was becoming a little difficult, as the Captain was busy compensating for the time lag between his auxiliary and earthbound caches, and asking anything more than vital questions seemed unwise.
At last Alec gave up and looked out at the stars, and later down on the deserts of red rock, on the green network of irrigation canals and outlined squares, on Mons Olympus that appeared at first like an island floating above the planet’s surface and then attached itself as Mars rotated through its long day.
Coming within range of their sensors. Now might be the time to make the jump, lad
Okay We have to calculate where Mars was in space two months ago—and then the algorithm for the time—
It’s done, lad Just you fix yerself one of them bitter cocktails.
Alec made a face but obeyed, going to the minibar.
There’s only six of these left. What’re we going to do when they’re gone?
Make more. I got the formula now, see? The bastard Doctor’s own precious recipe. Drink it down, lad, afore one of them blockade ships notices we’re coming in.
Heart pounding, Alec gulped down the cocktail and scrambled into his seat, just managing to get his safety restraints buckled as the stasis gas began to fill the air. He had time to catch a glimpse of the green blockade ships before they vanished in the yellow fog. Then the roar and the impact came, and when the gas dissipated he saw that Mars was suddenly a good deal closer, presenting a different face, crossed by many more of the green and yellow lines.
Bull’s eye
, said the Captain.
Look at that chronometer, boy! 24 October, 2351. And there’s Mars One smack below us.
Alec gave a howl of incredulous delight.
You mean it really worked?
Of course it worked Ain’t you my bloody little genius? Let’s drop this cargo and go grab yer lady friend.
Alec sent a hail in the code commonly used by the Resistance when contacting Mars One. When at length he had received a wary acknowledgment, he transmitted:
BALKISTER SENDS HIS BEST. PERMISSION TO VISIT?
The reply was a series of numbers, directions to a hangar within Mars One’s airspace. Alec grinned and the shuttle dropped down into the thin atmosphere.
He waited impatiently as they went through the airlock, thinking it was a shame Balkister couldn’t be with him. Mars itself, a new world! He half expected to find Noel Coward and Marlene Dietrich waiting for him with a band. And the oxygen would be fresh.
The airlock let Alec out at last and he maneuvered the shuttle to a landing pad. By the time the hatch popped he was already poised at the threshold, eager for his first glimpse of the Red Planet.
What he saw was a wall of coral-pink cinderblock. Well, all right: that was to be expected in a hangar. He stuck his head out and gulped in Martian air, then sneezed and shook his head. Moisture, the sour smell of agricultural chemicals, a distinctive bouquet of broccoli and cabbage, and …
Shrack! That’s funky.
Well, now, son, what did you expect? These folk have to recycle everything..
He stepped out and the wet heavy air fell on him like a blanket, balancing somewhat the giddy lightness he felt. He looked around at the interior of the hangar. It was all concrete molded from the soil, every conceivable shade of pink and orange. He found himself thinking of the ancient city of Petra, where he’d been once to pick up a consignment. Instead of a hot blue sky overhead and sunlight, though, there was the glitter of unfamiliar stars through the transparent dome, and the yellow globes of the methane lamps.
There were only two men waiting for him in the hangar, rawboned, narrow-eyed, suspicious. One of them was carrying a crowbar.
“You’re from Ed Balkister?” said the other one.
“Giles, you mean,” said Alec, and the men nodded in satisfaction and unison.
Alec, they got surveillance cameras in here.
“What about those?” Alec pointed at the tiny swiveling cameras, and in the light gravity found himself almost jumping up to touch them. The older of the men snorted.
“Those are ours. Come on, what’s Balkister got for us?”
Alec had planned on making a rather theatrical presentation, but he realized it would be wasted on these men. He jerked a thumb at the hatch. “Lots of boxes, guys. Help me unload ’em.”
They followed him into the shuttle, staring around surlily.
“Somebody’s private pleasure craft, eh?” sneered the older man. “Phew! Stinks, though, don’t it?”
He should talk,
thought Alec, but all he said was, “Yeah, well, freedom gets a little ripe sometimes.” He lifted a box easily and thrust it into the man’s arms. “Have some.”
The man’s knees buckled slightly and he stared. “What’s this, then?”
Alec leaned close and said: “Guns.”
“No shit?” The younger man looked delighted. He bent and forced open a crate with his crowbar. When he saw the contents he gave a cry of glee.
“Like to see the goddam Areco running dogs’ faces when they get a look at these!”
“It’s not going to come to that, you idiot,” protested the older man.
“Oh, yes it is, pal,” Alec said. “Trust me. Balkister’s got inside information. You’re going to need weapons to show Areco you can’t be pushed around. Here they are. Okay?”
The older man paled. “We’re never going to lose the case to Areco. We’re in the right.”
“And they’re in the money. They’ll win.”
“We’ll appeal!” A red flush of anger spread up the older man’s skinny neck.
“We’ll be appealing from Luna if we can’t keep the bastard marshals from evicting us, Dad,” the younger man said, hefting a crate and stepping down out of the hatch with it. “Wake up. The law’s been bought. Might’s the only right those corporate pigs respect! Thank the man or shut up, but let’s get these offloaded.”
The older man clamped his grim mouth into a white line and stalked out of the hatch with his crate.
Nobody said anything much after that, so the three men got the crates unloaded in a very short time. Alec had forgotten about the box with the brass skull; it had been packed in one of the offloaded ammo boxes, out of sight and out of mind.
He didn’t remember it until he was heading out into space again, and kicked himself mentally, because he had wanted to explain about the inscribed curse. Probably just as well he hadn’t, he decided. It didn’t seem like something the council representatives of the MAC would appreciate. They weren’t a particularly fun bunch of guys.