Ephialtes (Ephialtes Trilogy Book 1) (35 page)

Sherman
thought he’d toss a little barb into the mix.  “And who would replace
him?  You?”

White took it
in his stride, dodging with the ease of a career politician.  “If the
people elected me then yes, why not?  But that’s the whole point; it
should be down to the people, there should be elections.  This whole thing
stinks, it’s just not right.  Everyone was scared during the war so they
ate it up like it was just a normal thing, but it’s not normal.  The
people should be electing their president.  He got them so scared they
gave up their fundamental rights willingly.  He told them he was going to
do the right thing on their behalf, and they trusted him.  Well, I
wouldn’t be so trustful.  I’ve seen him close up.  I’ve seen it in
his eyes.  He
wants
another war, and he’s hell-bent on
getting it.  We can stop him.”  He ran out of steam at that point and
absentmindedly picked up one of his fries and ate it.

Sherman took
a long sip from his soda.  “You don’t have to worry about it,” he
said.  “We’ve got good people on this.  Those ships will never get to
Mars.  Not in time to be useful, anyway.  This whole thing will blow
over.  In two years no one will give a shit about it.  There’ll be no
war, and Cortes will have no excuse to continue with the War Measures. 
There’ll be an election, Gerard White will be elected president by a huge landslide. 
And they all live happily ever after, The End.”

White threw a
fry at Sherman.  “You son of a bitch,” he said, “this is serious. 
There are lives at stake here, the whole future of the USAN could be decided by
this.”

The fry hit
Sherman on the chin and fell into his lap.  He stopped eating and looked
directly at White.  “Hey,” he said, “we’ve got our best people on
this.  It’s going to work out exactly how you want it, okay?”

White looked
at him.

“Okay?”
Sherman said again, with a low menace in his voice.

“Okay,” said
White.  “I’m sorry about the fry, I don’t know what came over me.” 
He looked flustered.  Obviously, he had a lot on his mind.

“I accept
your apology,” said Sherman, unconvincingly, and he carried on eating.

Meeting with
Sherman made White late to his appointment with Zelman.  As usual, per the
rules of the arrangement, she had booked the hotel and sent him the
details.  When he arrived he had apologised for his tardiness and
showered.  He was wearing a bath robe now and had calmed down.  It
had been a stressful day and the champagne he was pouring would, he hoped, calm
his nerves further.  Madeline always had a soothing effect on him. 
As he handed a glass of champagne to her he said, “For you, my dear.”  She
took the glass from him and took a sip before setting it down on the bedside
table.

“Tough day?”
she said.

White shook
his head like he was trying to clear it.  “Like you wouldn’t believe,” he
said.  “I feel like I’m the only person in this country who gives a shit
any more.  We’re sleepwalking into a dictatorship, and no one seems to
give a damn.”

“Oh, come on,
it’s not that bad.  The war’s been over for months now.  He can’t
hold out much longer, there’s no justification any more.  You worry too
much.”

White came
around and lay on the bed next to Zelman.  “I wish it was that simple,” he
said.  He took a slug from his champagne flute, which he then rested on
his belly with two hands clasped around it as if it was some holy object. 
“He’s handling this Mars thing all wrong, way too heavy-handed.  I
think he’s looking for a fight.  He’s got so used to fighting over the
last few years he can’t think of any other way of dealing with things. 
And a fight plays right into his hands.  He can go on about security
issues and continue stripping away liberties here at home while he does
it.  He’ll continue with the suspension of elections on the pretext of
national security again.”

“You don’t
really think that, do you?” said Zelman.  “I mean, he’s an asshole, that’s
not in question, but he’s not that sort of asshole, is he?”

“I don’t
know,” said White, “I hope not.  But it bothers me.  I mean, it truly
bothers me.  The powers he instated for himself during the war are still
in place.  Not a single one of them has been rescinded.  If he gets
into a fight with the Martians that will be just the excuse he needs to hang on
to them, maybe even add more.  It’s not right, it’s not democracy, and it
feels like no one gives a shit but me.”

Zelman put a
hand on White’s arm.  “That’s because you’re a good person,” she said,
“and that’s why it’s so important that you’re his number two.  A heartbeat
away, remember?  It’s part of your job to balance him out and keep him in
check.”

“It is,” said
White, “and I think I’m failing at it.  I haven’t been able to do a damn
thing to stop him fixing up those carriers and sending them to Mars.  It’s
the exact opposite of what he should be doing and I’ve been powerless to stop
him.”

“It’ll blow
over,” said Zelman.  “It’s just one of those things that seems like a big
deal at the time.  A year from now you’ll look back at this and wonder why
it all seemed so important.  I’m sure the Martians will back down, or
we’ll be able to broker some sort of deal or leaseback or something.  Cool
heads will prevail, you’ll see.”

“It’s just
that sort of thinking I’m worried about,” said White.  “Everybody thinks
these things just work themselves out and turn out okay in the end. 
That’s why they ignore every small incremental step towards disaster; because
they think it won’t matter in the long run, but it does.  We’ve seen that
happen close-up within the last ten years.  Everybody thought we
wouldn’t go to war because it seemed we had too much to lose, and they had too
much to lose, and that it wouldn’t benefit anyone.  But what
happened?  Somehow we just wandered into it despite everything.  And
you know why?  Because too many people who had the opportunity to do
something just sat around saying, ‘
Well, it’ll never come to that
.’ 
But you know what?  Sometimes it
does
come to that, and by then
it’s too late.  And it’s happening again now, and there’s nothing I can do
about it.”

“Oh come on,”
said Zelman, “you’ve had your war.  No one’s that unlucky.  And
Cortes had his fingers burned, too.  The last thing he wants is another
war.”

White looked
despondently into the distance.  “I hope you’re right,” he said.  He
put his champagne glass on the bedside table after draining it and rolled over
onto his side to face Zelman.  “Do you really think I’m being paranoid?”
he said.

Zelman looked
down at him.  “Not paranoid,” she said.  “Maybe a little over
concerned.  But that’s what makes you such an effective politician; you
look out for the things that other people miss.  You’re just doing your
job, and doing it well.”

White closed
his eyes.  “I’m so tired,” he said.

“There,
there,” said Zelman, stroking his hair.  “You go to sleep, if that’s what
you need.”

“It is,” said
White sleepily.  “I need to sleep.”

Elspeth had
been following the streams from Earth as well as Mars.  She kept her eyes
on streams from government departments and business news.  She had
followed the developments with the
Aloadae
; there were live streams from
the USAN’s defence department showing the refit.  Occasionally the streams
would cut off when there was material which was considered sensitive, but
unclassified data on the refits was freely available.

Helios also
published information and streams about its business.  Information about
the
Aloadae
and the personnel working on them was easy to come by.

Elspeth had
used the information she gleaned from the various sources to put together
stories on her own stream, detailing the political and military manoeuvrings of
the USAN government and the newly formed Martian government.

Things on
Mars were moving so fast it was difficult to keep up with them.  All the
senators and the president were new, of course, and their roles were too. 
There were many issues where people didn’t really know what they were supposed
to be doing or how to proceed.  They were making things up as they
went.  It was exciting and fun for Elspeth as there was an almost endless
supply of news each day regarding the machinations of the senate and the office
of the president.  There were comic stories too, where people no longer
knew who should be responsible for what.  For all that, it seemed like the
new Mars was forging ahead on a wave of optimism.

Elspeth was
unusual for her age in that she was interested in such things.  Most of
her peers, like people of a similar age on Earth, didn’t pay much attention to
the way their countries were run.  They were comfortable, fed and housed,
and had a myriad of distractions to keep them busy.  The low-level
underpinning of all that was of little concern to them.  To Elspeth it was
endlessly fascinating.  She knew she was living through an incredibly
important part of history.  Mars would surely go on to grow and become a
hugely important planet at the forefront of human expansion into the solar
system and beyond, and here she was right there at the moment of
independence.  She was a keen student of history and could see that after
the announcements and parties had come and gone the baby steps of the new Mars
were unlikely to be without incident.

She could see
the way the government of the USAN had been moving back on Earth.  The
government, and particularly the office of the president, had taken on more and
more powers during the war and seemed reluctant to relinquish them now the war
was over.  She could see that the war had put a huge stress on the USAN’s
economy and that the country was in eye-watering debt.  Its
population was spending more and more money that it didn’t have without even
knowing or caring that it was doing it.  The loss of one of the
powerhouses of its economy, and its main source of energy, was going to make
that situation far worse.  The way she saw it, the USAN had to do
something about its Martian problem.  Looking at the USAN’s recent track
record in foreign affairs, which had been conducted largely by its military, and
watching the
Aloadae
slowly mutate day by day into interplanetary attack
spacecraft, she figured that things were going to get interesting very
soon.  She put all this into her streams, but viewing figures were
low.  The revenue she made from advertising was barely enough to cover her
hosting fees, but she enjoyed what she was doing and knew that she had to start
somewhere and just keep pressing on.  She had an exclusive interview with
Bobby Karjalainen coming up soon.  She thought that would bring her to a
much wider audience.  If the interview went well she planned to chop it up
and stream it over consecutive days, almost like a miniseries.  She hoped
that people who sought her stream out for Bobby might then get a feel for it
and come back for some of her other items.  It was unlikely, she
knew.  Most of the people tuning in for Bobby would be there for his all-American
good looks and his exciting war stories.  But what the hell.  She
lived in hope.

Steiner,
Foley and Johnson were recovering from the bone-shaking experience of
being fired into space from the surface of the Earth when the alarm sounded.

“What the
hell is that?” said Johnson.

Steiner
shrugged, “I don’t know, a test, maybe?”

“It’s no
drill,” said Foley.

“Please
remain in your seats and await further instructions,” said an amplified voice,
seemingly coming from nowhere.

“What is
it?  What’s going on?” said Johnson.

“It’s a
problem,” said Steiner.  “They’re dealing with it, go back to sleep.”

“Back to sleep? 
Goddammit, I don’t like no goddamn problems on no goddamn spacecraft.  We
could all get killed up here.”

“
It’s
fine,” said Steiner.  “It’s probably
instrumentation or something simple.  We’ll be at
Ephialtes
in two
hours, anyway.  After that we won’t care what happens to this rust
bucket.”

“Two hours is
a long time,” said Johnson.

The
unlocatable
voice appeared around them again.  “We’re
having some technical problems and are in contact with the ground, who are
looking at solutions for us.  We will keep you advised of the
situation.  We’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

“
Sheeeeeet
!” said Johnson.  “That doesn’t sound like
instrumentation to me.  That sounds like they’ve got an actual
problem. 
Sheeeeet
!”

Steiner
turned to Foley.  “What do you think?  Serious?”

Foley
shrugged, “We’re still here,
ain’t
we?”

The lights
flickered off and on in the cabin and the spacecraft gave a slight judder.

“I am not
liking that,” said Johnson.

“I think
there may be something up,” said Steiner.

They waited a
further few minutes and the disembodied voice appeared again.  “We have a
significant malfunction with one of our life support systems.  There is no
need for alarm.  The malfunction is not critical and we have more than
enough oxygen to get to
Ephialtes.
  Due to the nature of the leak,
and as a safety precaution, we will dock within the next half-hour with
Otus
, which is currently two thousand kilometres
away, eight thousand kilometres nearer than
Ephialtes
.  Do not be
alarmed.”

“Damn,” said
Johnson.  “Do not be alarmed.  That’s just great, I won’t be
alarmed.  Even if I’ve got no goddamned air to breathe, I won’t be
alarmed, if you say so.”

Twenty-three
minutes later they docked with
Otus
, and after
a short period of confusion they floated aboard.

Otus
was a vast playground to them. 
Otus
’
own detachment of commanders had
arrived a few days earlier, and old friends and comrades acted as happy
guides.  Despite repeatedly being chased off by Helios engineers and
Otus
’
crew the commanders were all over the
place.  It seemed like a packed ferry, with people wandering about
excitedly and wandering back again.

Ephialtes
crew were
asked to stay in the day areas while Helios engineers helped to ascertain the
problem with the shuttle.  The airlock through which the shuttle was
docked contained data feeds which were pulled over to
Otus
for analysis.

Adam Speight
spent some time on the job himself.  It soon became apparent that shortly
after the shuttle had escaped the Earth’s atmosphere it had performed an emergency
purge of its oxygen supplies, quickly venting most of them off into
space.  Speight analysed and reanalysed the data but could not make sense
of it.  It certainly appeared to be a software glitch, but he ran many
simulations and could not replicate the error.  As a precaution he
replaced the main and auxiliary computers on the shuttle and replaced the
software with the version he had set his AIs to modifying.  He had added a
number of redundant routines that prevented any purges without explicit human
intervention.  He believed that would make the shuttle safe for its
journey back to Earth, where he recommended it underwent a more thorough
accident investigation.  All that remained was for
Otus
to donate some of its huge oxygen supplies to the shuttle and it would be able
to continue on its way to
Ephialtes
.

That meant a
few more hours of impromptu R&R for the commanders on board.  Steiner
had set himself up in the bar area and had amused himself by winding Johnson
up.  It was so easy he could hardly resist.  Foley had
disappeared.  He said he had run into an old comrade who’d been posted to
Otus
and they were away somewhere reliving past
glories.

Twelve hours
later they were back aboard the shuttle and headed to
Ephialtes
.

Work on
Ephialtes
was nearing completion.  They had taken aboard their compliment of
commanders and shipped home most of the Helios workers.  A handful of
software engineers and other specialists remained for the last few days of
snagging and testing.

Askel had
been working on data from
Otus
.  They had
made their 0.5 burn for a trip around the Moon.  The information from the
trip was invaluable.  All systems had performed remarkably well. 
Data from the 0.5 burn, when extrapolated to a full burn, tallied exceptionally
closely to the models.  There would be no need for
Ephialtes
to run
a similar extended test - the two ships and the alterations to
them were close to identical.  The data for one would suffice for the
other.

There were
some very minor adjustments to be made, mostly to the guidance systems. 
Askel had set her AIs to the task.  There were also some last minute
issues to resolve with the stores.  They would have to wait an extra two
days for their final delivery due to an unforeseen issue with one of the HLV
shuttles.  It irked Askel slightly.  She and her team had worked
crazy hours and with absolute dedication, and she was looking forward to
delivering the upgraded
Ephialtes
two days ahead of what was already an
ambitious schedule.  Now, due to something as mundane as a broken down
shuttle, she would be forced to deliver it merely on time.  She felt that
she had been robbed of her moment of glory.  Of course, delivering this
project on time was a staggering achievement in itself, but what she had
achieved was even more impressive than that.  People wouldn’t know, or
believe or care, if she told them that she would have delivered two days ahead
of schedule if not for a minor fault on some crummy shuttle.  ‘
C’est
la vie
,’ she thought.

Askel’s
slight fixation on the shuttle’s infuriating
deficiency grew when she received a call from Speight.  He wanted to talk
over the final checks before launch the next day. 
Otus
was heading out for Mars.

“The data
from the trip to Luna looked great to me.  Did you drill down into
it?  Anything we need to know?”

“No, it’s as
good as it looks,” said Askel.  “I had some AIs analyse it closely.
 It looks like a simulation, exactly what we expected.”

“It looked
good to me too, and it felt good.  Just felt right,
y’know
?”

“There’ll be
no problem with the full burn.  The extrapolations are good too, we’ve
nailed this thing.  How are your supplies?”

“We took our
last supply drop tonight.  The shuttle took the rest of the team home.”

“But you’re
going along for the journey?”

“I am
indeed.  Rawls made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.  He wanted a
Helios engineer on board to cover any matters arising.  I’ll be
responsible for both ships - we’ll be close enough for real-time
coms
across both vessels.  You’re going home?”

“Yes,” said
Askel.

“About that
shuttle,” said Speight.  “When your shuttle docked with us I ran some
tests and patched it up.”

“I heard,”
said Askel.

“One of the
things I did was replace the main and auxiliary computers.  It dumped all
its oxygen for no reason.  The hardware was all good so it had to be a
software failure.”

“You put in
manual overrides?”

“Well, I made
it a lot harder for the ship to mess with life-critical systems without
running by an actual human first.  I altered the software to be super
cautious, just to get them back to Earth.  Thing is, I’ve run a deep
analysis on the software on both control computers, and I’ve found something a
little odd.”

“What’s
that?”

“Well, the
software is signed by Helios and dated last year, January or February, I
think.  Last year, anyway.  But it makes reference to libraries that
were only released last month.”

“That doesn’t
make sense.  It’s not using the older versions of the same libraries?”

“No, that’s
what I thought, so I tried it with the older libraries, and it doesn’t work.
 The routines it used to purge the oxygen are only in the new
libraries.  I mean, you could do it with the old libraries, but you would
have to code it in a completely different and more complex way.  That’s
one of the many things that’s so good about the new versions.”

“So how is an
old system making use of new libraries?”

“This is my
point, Askel.  It can’t.  The control system, which caused the
failure, has to be very recent.  But it says it’s almost eighteen months
old.”  He let the point hang.

“Sabotage?”
said Askel, not really believing it.

“You tell
me,” said Speight.  “I’ve gone through it again and again.  I’ve put
my best AIs on it, and I can’t figure what’s happened.  The software is a
year and a half old.  It had a minor patch eight months ago, according to
all the meta-data, and it’s speaking to other systems that it should not
be able to speak to, and telling them to be doing things they shouldn’t be
doing.  What do you think?”

“I don’t
know,” said Askel, “there’s usually some freaky explanation for these sorts of
things.”

“That’s what
I thought, but I’ve been over it and over it and it doesn’t add up.”

“Did you take
it to Rawls?”

“Not
yet.  I’m not even sure what it is.”

“Send the
data over to me.  I’ll have a look.”

“I can send a
virtual copy, but it’s embedded in the physical systems.  You really need
the computers themselves.”

“Okay. 
There’s no way to get them over here, is there?  And you’re leaving
tomorrow.  Keep working on them and let me know.”

“I will.”

“Listen, I’m
going to be around tomorrow when you go.  I’ll be following everything.”

“Good. 
It’s going to be fine.  Like the trip to Luna, except we’re going right on
past the Moon with our foot to the floor.”

“I know,”
said Askel.  “I’m not doing it for moral support; I want to see your
data. 
Ephialtes
is shipping out in a day or two, so it will be
useful for them.”

“We’re
leaving at 06:00, Eastern Standard Time, USAN.  Set your alarm.”

“I’ll be here
from 04:00.”

“Okay. 
We’ve done a good job here, haven’t we?”

“Good? 
I’d say we’ve done an outstanding job.”

“A hell of a
lot of that was down to you.  Thanks, Askel, you’ve been a great team
leader.”

Askel fought
to hide her smile.  “Thank you too, Speight.  We all did well,
everyone.  I’m going to personally thank all of your team when I get
back.”

“You do
that.  Goodnight, Askel.”

“Goodnight. 
Askel out.”

Askel’s
comdev
woke her at
03:55.  She quickly dressed and sat at the terminal in her small
cabin.  She patched through to the main
comcon
of
Otus
and listened in on their audio traffic
with ground control back on Earth.  She brought up
Otus
’
systems console on her terminal and checked all the main data feeds. 
Everything looked good.

She listened
to Commodore Tommy Parks running through checks with his systems leads. 
Periodically, ground control would answer a query or impart some additional
information.  After a while she heard Speight’s voice too.  He was
having technical discussions with ground control and giving some observations
to Parks.  There was less than an hour to go before
Otus
set off for interplanetary space.

“Speight,
Askel here.  I’m monitoring your systems from over here; looks good.”