Nemesis (20 page)

Zoe’s smile stiffened. Something a little like worry showed in her eyes. Mark guessed she hadn’t explored that option – probably because it was the kind of kludgy approach a starship engineer would think of, rather than the clean, clever solution that would occur to a scientist.

‘Not possible,’ she said. ‘The peaks in their emission spectrum don’t correspond—’

‘Simple,’ said Mark before she could finish. ‘If they timed it right, they could use the gravity distortion of each warp pulse to impart a little redshift to the bursts. Your spectroscopic peaks would all slide. Then they follow each burst with another a nanosecond later using a different configuration. Voila – fake spectrum. Who could tell the difference? Unless you had sensors sampling at an insanely high rate, of course.’

Zoe crossed her legs and looked anxious. The idea that she might have been out-thought by a jumped-up flyboy didn’t appear to sit well with her.

‘Maybe,’ she said quickly. ‘But that sounds like a very expensive solution. How practical is it, really?’

Mark shrugged. ‘No idea. But if the alternative is a plot by dead aliens who haven’t bothered to talk to us in the last thirty years …?’

‘There’s no evidence they’re dead,’ said Zoe.

‘Sleeping, then,’ Mark offered. ‘Stoned, lazy, whatever.’

He watched her shoulders tense and realised he wasn’t making friends. He rubbed his eyes.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to rain on your parade. We shouldn’t rule anything out at this point, in any case. And my problems aren’t your problems.’

‘You got that right,’ she said.

‘I’m going to hang out in my cabin,’ said Mark. ‘Thanks for the advice. I mean it.’

He climbed out of the lounge, more convinced than ever of his goal: prove himself, quit and get as far away from the Fleet and all its hangers-on as he could. The ship had plenty of virtual space to offer, all of it free of passengers. It suddenly looked surprisingly appealing. A few weeks tucked away might not be so bad after all.

5.2: YUNUS

Two days into the flight, Yunus sent his captain a meeting request. Ten minutes before Ruiz was due to arrive, Yunus made his way to the study space he’d chosen as an office and looked over his first-contact plans while he waited. He hadn’t used such a cramped workroom in years, but that was space travel for you. At least the decor was tasteful. Most starship interiors looked like hospital cupboards.

Right on time, the door notified him. ‘Captain Mark Ruiz is here.’

Their pilot was punctual. That, at least, boded well.

‘Show him in,’ he said.

Ruiz stepped inside, a guarded expression on his face. Yunus took that moment to assess the man properly. Ruiz was both a roboteer and an Earther – an unusual blend. His build was pure Earth, if perhaps a little wider and stockier than most, and he had the dark, mixed-race looks you found in almost every city these days. But the way he carried himself was something else. He had the loose, expansive gestures of a Colonial, and angry, hunched shoulders that were all his own.

Yunus wondered what had made Mark Ruiz quite so bitter and reclusive. Since they’d come aboard he’d practically been invisible. Yunus needed to know how the man thought, and whether he could be trusted. With a skilled ally at the helm, his goals at Tiwanaku would be a lot easier to achieve.

‘You wanted to see me,’ said Ruiz.

‘Yes. Thank you for coming. Please sit.’

Yunus gestured for a chair. The room obliged.

Ruiz glanced around at the walls as he settled.

‘Can I ask what this is about?’

‘I want to get to know you,’ said Yunus. ‘I’m leading this mission and you’re my captain. It’s as simple as that. We’ve had a couple of days to settle in. Now feels like a good time.’

Ruiz folded his arms. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Who you are. How you think. What your priorities are. Your bio says you’re an Earther, for instance, but you appear to have spent less than two years living on Earth. That’s unusual.’

‘It’s what I could manage,’ said Ruiz. ‘I consider myself an Earther, if that’s your point. My parents are from there.’

‘Not a Galatean?’ Yunus indulged in a playful smile. ‘You were at school on that world for a while.’

Ruiz’s expression didn’t waver. ‘I grew up on Mars, New Panama, Galatea, Europa, and even spent some time on Saint Andrews. I don’t consider myself from any of those places.’

‘I see,’ said Yunus. ‘And what do you think about this mission you’ve found yourself on? Do you believe in it?’

Ruiz regarded him warily. ‘I believe it’s a job. And I believe I’m the best person for it. Look, you have my bio – what more do you need to know? Is there something specific I can help you with?’

Yunus restrained a sigh. He tried to stay gracious.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You respect directness, I can see that. Frankly, I want to understand your politics because I believe they may impact this mission.’

‘I try not to have any.’

‘You chose to spend two years flying in the North Atlantic Disaster Zone. That’s not what I’d expect from someone who doesn’t care about politics.’

Ruiz exhaled and appeared to relax a little. ‘I care about Earth, if that’s what you mean.’

Yunus smiled. So the young man did have some humanity after all.

‘That’s what I hoped you’d say. How about Freedom Camps? How do you feel about them?’

Ruiz looked confused. ‘Freedom what?’

‘I prefer not to use the expression “Flag Drops”,’ said Yunus. ‘I consider it a pejorative that our society appears to have accepted into common parlance. I prefer Freedom Camps, or Free Camps, if you like.’

‘I think they’re sad,’ said Ruiz. ‘I think there are a lot of poor people on Earth who’ll do anything to escape, including claiming to be Revivalist zealots for one bunch or another. They get shipped off to the Frontier and treated like dirt.’

How sad – another citizen who’d absorbed the Colonialist propaganda without even noticing.

‘You don’t think they’re being given a chance to build a new life?’

‘From what I’ve heard,’ said Ruiz, ‘the conditions are usually shit.’

Yunus winced a little at the language; Colonials had such filthy mouths. And Ruiz
was
a Colonial, whether he believed it or not. For starters, he didn’t appear to have a grasp of the basic concept of respect for his betters.

‘May I paint a different picture for you?’ he said.

Ruiz shrugged. ‘Go for it.’

‘Consider how much it costs to take people to the Far Frontier. The Free Camps are privately funded. They’re usually poor because almost all the available money has been spent just getting people there.’

‘Okay,’ said Ruiz. He fell silent.

Yunus pulled an amused expression. ‘Have I convinced you already?’

‘If you want to convince me, you’ll have to tell me why there are so many of them. Why not just build fewer and give people a decent quality of life?’

‘Because,’ said Yunus patiently, ‘unless Earth builds them, billions of people will be locked out of the economy. The Far Frontier gold rush is happening
now
. Whoever is out there making those discoveries is going to own tomorrow’s businesses. What do you think will happen to all those people on Earth if they don’t get a share in that? That’s also why they bend the rules. Earth leans on IPSO as much as it can because the alternative is leaving billions on Earth penniless, eking out a life in dismal prefab warrens while the Galatea Effect smashes everything on the surface.’

Ruiz looked out of the corner of his eyes as if scanning for an escape route.

‘I don’t know, it still sounds exploitative to me. I don’t see the Leading classes out there getting their hands dirty.’

Yunus struggled to maintain his composure. Mark was obviously a classic
Eno
, an
Earther in Name Only
. Shame. Yunus had hoped to find something of a kindred spirit. He’d found it hard enough to endure the way the mission had been set up and was appalled by the things he’d learned about the Fleet’s recent behaviour – the existence of the
Chiyome
first and foremost. The assumption of Earth’s guilt appeared to have been written into the mission plan from the outset. And, given that, he still wasn’t sure why the Fleet had chosen to show their hand and reveal the awful ship’s existence. There was something off about the whole business.

Yunus had told himself since first joining the mission that it was worth all the schmoozing with ignorant Colonials, given what Earth stood to gain. However, being trapped in a closet under several kilometres of radioactive starship surrounded by bigots made that difficult. He had to remind himself of his duty every time they shoved their prejudice in his face. None of them had even taken the time to understand Earth’s society before they dismissed it. None of them showed him an ounce of the respect he was due.

‘Actually, there are members of the Leading class in every Free Camp,’ he said. ‘Who do you suppose runs things?’

For a moment, Ruiz’s guarded expression slipped. His eyebrows twitched upwards. Yunus felt a surge of satisfaction.

‘You didn’t know that?’ he said brightly.

Mark shook his head.

‘I thought not. Despite the propaganda, not all of the Leading class are greedy billionaires,’ said Yunus. ‘Most of us are just people who happen to be born into clerical families and who accept the social responsibility that comes with that privilege. Many of us volunteer to work in the camps. A classful society is a two-way street, you know.
Noblesse oblige
is an oath we take seriously.’

Ruiz exhaled noisily. ‘I’m glad to hear it. But did you really ask me here to talk about the Frontier? Given our mission profile, it’s not exactly relevant.’

Yunus sighed and decided to get to the point. Chit-chatting with a foul-mouthed misanthrope had started to wear on him.

‘Actually, it’s very relevant. You and I both know that this mission comes at a critical time. The future of the Frontier is being decided right now, which makes the timing of the Tiwanaku Event either suspicious or miraculous.’

‘Agreed,’ said Ruiz. ‘Can we just say suspicious?’

Yunus grimaced. ‘Ah, but here’s the thing, Mark. The Fleet is completely convinced that one of Earth’s Houses is responsible for the attack, but I don’t buy it. You may be aware that I’m well connected in Earth politics. I
know
senior representatives from all the major sect-groups, even if only slightly, and I will tell you this: the Far Frontier is so important right now that I cannot think of a single House that would break ranks in order to fake something as unlikely as first contact. It would ruin their credibility with their allies at a time when alliances mean everything. Their power in the senate
requires
that they act as a unified bloc.’

Ruiz looked genuinely unsettled. ‘So you think a colony’s responsible?’

‘No,’ said Yunus with a smile. ‘Not even Drexler would try this. Consider the implications. Such a masquerade would not stand for long, and if news got back to the home system, the Colonial cause in the senate would collapse. Only Galatea would have the money for this, and Galatea is obsessed only with itself. As the Prophet Sanchez said – once you remove the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true. In this case, logic requires us to entertain the belief that the aliens are real. Whether the timing is driven by the Transcended or inspired by God, I do not know. What matters is the
possibility
.’

‘Okay. Fine,’ said Ruiz. ‘Let’s say they’re real, then. Regardless, what do you actually want from me?’

‘I want room to pursue my diplomatic agenda,’ said Yunus, leaning forward. ‘Let’s not fool ourselves – we both know why Sam Shah is on this mission. If there
are
aliens at Tiwanaku, Sam will try to take control of the situation immediately. He’ll use it to try to create an advantage for the Colonial faction he represents. He has links to the Frontier Protection Party, you know.’

Ruiz shook his head. The spark of interest in his eyes appeared to be fading.

‘No. I didn’t know that.’

‘All I want is for you to give me the benefit of the doubt for long enough to secure an advantage for the billions of people stuck on Earth. The same people you spent those years trying to save.’

Mark’s mouth became a thin line. Yunus’s cheeks flushed with contained annoyance. Somehow, asking for a simple favour appeared to have tipped Ruiz into a kind of emotional lockdown. Didn’t the young man see how much of a difference he could make? Control of the helm at Tiwanaku meant control over the comms channels. It meant being able to position the ship to prevent the
Ariel Two
from firing. It would govern who made contact first and how fast. Yunus’s ownership of the override codes would be worth nothing without a supportive hand at the controls.

‘Can you do that for me?’ Yunus pressed.

Mark fixed him with a steady look. ‘With all the greatest respect, Professor, I’m committing to exactly nothing that’s outside the mission plan. I don’t mind telling you that Sam has already spoken to me.’

Yunus’s stomach lurched.

‘And I turned him down, too,’ said Ruiz. ‘I can’t afford to take sides on this ship. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m here to do a job and that’s it. I hope you’ll be pleased with the outcome, but straight dealing is all I can offer you.’ He stood and headed for the door. ‘Do you have any other questions?’

Yunus gazed at the nasty little Eno with dislike. ‘No. You may go. Thank you for your time.’

In the quiet that followed, he pondered what he’d learned. Sam had already angled for Mark’s allegiance, which suggested that Sam had already guessed the Photurians were real, regardless of the act he maintained to the contrary. It also meant that his agenda had to be different from the Fleet’s, otherwise a private discussion with Ruiz wouldn’t have been necessary. It was imperative that he understand what Sam was up to.

He sat with eyes narrowed, his fingers idly tapping on his knee while he tried to think of a strategy for winkling that secret out. He suddenly wished he knew more about Sam besides his ponderous reputation.