The Rhine Page 9

  "I'm saying that stolen canisters of ore are not showing up at any of the drop-off points or refineries on the Moon. Where are they?"

  He shrugged and took a sip from his tumbler, then said. "You're suggesting the ore is being taken to Mars and processed in illegal plants. Do you have any evidence? Because if you do, it would pull a thorn from the Secretary-General's side."

  "Heavy handed politics is what caused this issue. This can't be resolved by cracking down. Get Modi to lift the embargo. Establish a free market for the colony, and everyone will profit."

  Saddler chuckled then swallowed the rest of his drink. "Especially the mining consortiums. Alexandria, you can forget selling ore to the Martians for another fifty years. As long as the colonial lease is in effect the Council will force them to stick to what they agreed upon when they signed up."

  "Interesting, because it would have been impossible for their children to sign up or agree upon anything."

  "Bad parenting decision," he replied, glancing from the empty tumbler still in his hand to her. "But they did make a decision."

  At some point she realized she was belaboring the issue. Modi had made his point clear in the Council session. So why was she bothering with Saddler? For the last time, Alexandria, she told herself. The UN will not give you what you want.

  She huffed, and turned to leave.

  "Oh, and Alexandria ..."

  She stopped, turning back to look at him.

  "I think our business arrangement has come to an end."

  11 - Compton

  As the Martian dawn cast its dusty gray and blue light across the Sytinskaya plains, Lieutenant Colonel William J. Compton stood with Gunnery Sergeant Jamala Jenkins beside his armored command jitney and watched as vac-suited police from Capital Burrow used search lights to comb through the ruins of the dome. He had no hope that they would find anything useful to his investigation. They never did. His own people were scouting the plain around the site and as good as they were at their jobs he doubted they would find anything of use either. No, everyone would run around in circles for the next eight or twelve hours and then a video message would be posted on several private networks and filter into the UN network, in which Free Mars Now would claim responsibility and repeat demands that the UN lift the embargo on raw ore sales and establish a free market on Mars.

  The problem on Mars was that there weren't enough people ... enough civilization. So, there weren't enough cameras. The UN's idea of a transparent society failed out there on the plains and empty places between the pockets of humanity buried in the burrows.

  "I think it's interesting that the Governor's office has called three times in the last hour, demanding answers," JJ said. Her helmet mic picked up a snort.

  "Why's that, Gunny?" He asked.

  "Because they already know the answers."

  The private news network in his company of two-hundred soldiers said that Shultz was in on the FMN. Soldiers liked to speculate, draw conclusions that were interesting. But rumors were just rumors until you had evidence. The thing that bothered Compton was the fact that the FMN had intel ... there was a certain coordination that shouldn’t exist among independent terrorist cells. Suggesting that they were not independent.

  "Go ahead," he heard JJ say through the open channel. A call must have come in.

  "Yeah, Gunny, we lost it." Freck said. Corporal Aibreann 'Freckles' O'Neill was out in a Humvee following what looked like a rover or van's tracks. "Wind's wiped everything clean five kilometers south of the crater. You want me to see if I can pick them up further down, maybe closer to the road?"

  The corporal was thinking that the terrorists left the road at some point, heading out across the sand and then had simply gone back the way they came. Compton wasn't so sure. They were a crafty lot, a testament to that was the fact that the only thing sitting in his jail cells now were nothing more than stupid campus protestors that thought shouting 'Free Mars Now' and breaking the windows of Earth owned businesses made them a part of some larger, moral ideal. To date he had no actual 'terrorist' in custody.

  "No. Come on back," JJ said. "We'll see what the satellite and drones can find when it's full light."

  "Copy that. You're the boss, boss."

  I'm getting too old for this crap, Compton thought. Among the documents on his handcomm was a formal notice that he was exiting at the end of his tour, in eighteen months. But he hadn't sent it yet. Send the blasted thing, Wil, he told himself. You need to think of Marietta. Their son, Kyle, was an engineer at a big company in New York City. Marietta had come with him to Mars four years ago when he was reassigned as commander of the UNSEC company stationed in Capitol Burrow ... but her heart was with Kyle. She missed him. Oh, he had sent her back to Earth a few times to visit but then she would start to worry about him, here on Mars by himself. Everything had been fine when Kyle was young, he went wherever Compton was stationed. But this thing with Marietta had started his freshman year in college. He wasn't moving with them any longer. And she needed both the men in her life in one place.

  "Alright," he said. "Let's go take a look, so I can tell the Sol-X bigwigs that I personally went over the site. And walk me through what we know."

  They left the jitney and walked toward what used to be the front loading dock of the dome— now blackened and cracked concrete— JJ running through everything that they knew. Vehicle tracks found a few kilometers west. It probably stopped and deposited a team, who proceeded on foot to the dome. There were a few tracks thought to be boot prints but until pattern testing could be ran they were simply depressions in the loose sand.

  Compton listened, but his mind was really on how the terrorists were selecting their targets and not the aftermath. He was starting to see a pattern ... toys, clothes, candy ... things not necessary for survival. Luxury goods. There had been some instances where important equipment was destroyed, but those seemed like mistakes. Granted, commercial warehouse manifests were not top secret but nor were they readily accessible by someone that wasn't actually working for that particular company. Either the FMN had people on the inside of the companies, or someone with access was providing the information to them. Well, they could have talented hackers. So, which was it?

  If he said his thoughts out loud JJ would remind him that Governor Shultz had access to a lot of corporate data. No inside man or hacker needed. There was a certain logic to it, he admitted. It was the most uncomplicated answer to his question, and those were generally the correct answers. But, would Shultz go that far? To Compton he just seemed like another politician, not the chief intelligence officer of a terrorist organization. Of course, if he thought about it, they were working on the same goals. The FMN was bent on forcing the UN Council in to granting economic and marketing concessions ... and Shultz was constantly petitioning them for the same thing.

  Hopping up on the side of the dock, Compton surveyed what had been the dome's interior. It was a black circle of broken and charred pieces of the dome, crates, racks, and Sol-X's merchandise. Debris was scattered around it for over a square kilometer.

  "After losing those pods last month I wonder how Sol-X is going to feel about this," JJ said.

  Three cargo pods shot out of the sky with portable missile launchers, right over a major drop zone. That had taught them a lesson in the kind of hardware the terrorists had access to, and how fast they could get in and out of surveillance areas. They were coordinated ... as if they were being trained. Suddenly Compton found it ironic that he was finding the same thing here as he had there, a few rover tracks that were swept away by the Martian winds. That whole incident had led to major changes in drop schedules, making sure that satellites were overhead and that it was daylight. And it was costing him part of his available man power because the governor insisted on increased security. A point that JJ failed to see in her hypothesis that Shultz was in with the terrorists. Well, she would have said he was siphoning off manpower to expose other areas. She would have an answer to everyone of his thoug
hts on the matter.

  "I don't think we have to wonder how they feel," Compton told her and stepped off the dock onto what had been the floor of the dome. "What they do about it is a different matter."

  "How much you think they lost this time?"

  He shrugged, an expression she couldn't see because of the vac-suit's bulk. If you wanted to use body language you had to do things dramatically. For some reason he thought of C. L. Dean, a prolific stage actor about twenty years ago. Marietta loved him. "Manifest puts the value at about three-hundred thousand dollars, plus shipping costs. I don't know what the retail value is."

  JJ whistled.

  They walked the perimeter of the melted and twisted ruins for twenty minutes, Compton eying his rad count ticking away on his HUD. As the dawn grew so did the radiation. Everybody out there today would need a double dose of anti-rads.

  Compton came to a halt in front of a blackened and crumpled pile of metal that might have been an air recycler. He looked down at the scorched concrete floor and exposed rebar, and stared.

  "Gunny, you've seen actual combat," he said.

  JJ took his statement for a question, and replied, "This infantrywoman has participated in thirteen combat engagements ... the North Congo, Lebanon, Pakistan, and the Badlands in Yemen."

  "So you've seen a lot of stuff like this, huh?"

  "Lots."

  Compton bent and picked up something he recognized, part of a metal casing. He showed it to JJ. "What do you think this is?"

  She took it from his gloved hand and through the face shield he saw her frown. "The casing of a T-Rex, a teflon reactive based explosive device."

  Compton felt his gut sink as she confirmed his fears. It was like he just drank a big glass of barium. He was too old for this crap. The last three bombings were done with construction explosives ... this changed things. The T-Rex was a military grade explosive, it was heavily controlled. He didn't even have the stuff in his own inventory because Mars was not considered an active war zone. So ... who had the means and connections to get it here?

  As if reading his thoughts JJ smiled at him. There was an uncomplicated answer to his question.

  12 - Alexandria

  "President Hu Jinping revealed today that the piracy of raw ores is causing delays for China's plans to build its sixth Jeweled City in the Gobi, but is confident that the UN Council will be able to resolve the issue soon."

  Maria pulled the muffins from the oven and set the pan on the stove, and Alexandria took a serving platter from the cabinet. She glanced at the newsfeed playing across the bay windows opposite the counter and stove. The image switched to the Chinese president and Secretary-General Modi sitting in talk-show style chairs as news crews took photos and asked questions.

  "That's okay, I've got it," Alexandria told Maria as she started pulling the muffins from the pan. The diminutive Spanish woman smiled and moved to the refrigerator. Cooking, baking, and kitchen work in general wasn't a skill she needed growing up, but on special occasions— like Jason's birthday— she liked to do something. Her mother would have frowned if she saw her standing at the stove in the kitchen. Well ... mother wasn't here, and this made her feel like she was actually doing something ... participating with her family. If Alexandria were a vindictive woman she would take a trip out to the family home and give her mother some cookies she baked herself. She could see the old broad's face turn from flat-stern to shriveled-incredulous.

  "Coming up ... Pauline Erich interviews CEO Martin Cumberland and hears his thoughts on the recent attacks against Sol-Exchange assets on Mars. Johannesburg's metroplex region reaches sixty million. Analysts are reporting that southern Africa will no longer be agriculturally sustainable in another forty years. And, new studies on how low-g is shaping the human body. We'll be right back ..."

  She muted the screen but continued to glance at the subtitles while she arranged the muffins on the platter. Jason's party was technically over and now it was just him and a couple of his closest friends in his room playing video games. The cake hadn't been quite large enough for everyone to have seconds— a testament to how much processed sugar growing bows could intake— thus the reason for the muffins. Maria took more ice-cream from the freezer and then pulled some bowls out, setting them on the counter.

  Adam walked into the kitchen. It must be halftime. After the boys went to Jason's room he turned the game on and had been stuck to his favorite chair since. He opened the refrigerator and looked in.

  "Are we winning?" She asked.

  He grunted and turned around, holding a beer. "Afraid not."

  "How much will you lose?"

  "Not sure yet," he said and leaned on the counter. Football squares was the only vice Adam had. To be honest, she bet when she thought about it. It was fun doing it with him. She smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

  "What was that for?"

  "Just because you're handsome."

  Maria set the bowls on a tray and put ice-cream in them.

  "Well, if that's the case, then I should be getting those all the time."

  She laughed. He started to leave but stopped. "Hon, have you given any thought to my suggestion?"

  Alexandria felt her mood start to sour, but for his sake she smiled again and looked down at the floor. "I need some more time."

  This time he kissed her, on the forehead, and said, "Okay." Then he walked out of the kitchen.

  She really shouldn't be angry, she knew. Adam wasn't the kind of man to press her, but this ... he seemed adamant about. He was choosing to make a stand on something that was difficult for her. Why isn't it difficult for him, her angry voice asked inside her head.

  "Mom?"

  "Hmm?" Jason had walked into the kitchen without her notice.

  She turned and smiled at him. He was handsome, with his father's eyes and mouth. There was no mistaking whose kid he was. Right now one eyebrow was notched up a little and that mouth had a small arrogant bent to it. Like he was being bothered. She resisted the urge to pinch his cheek until his mouth relaxed. He was too old for that. And besides, she knew what that look meant.

  "Can I stay the night at Jon's?"

  Alexandria felt a cold sweat breakout on her face. Jonathan Pierrepont lived across town.

  "Oh?" She asked, then carefully said, "You've been gone a lot lately. I'm worried about your grades."

  He let out a heavy sigh and turned to walk away.

  "Wait," she said and handed him the platter of muffins. "Help Maria take these to your room. I'll ... think about it."

  He nodded and walked out, Maria following him with the tray of bowls filled with ice-cream.

  She leaned against the counter and took a breath. Why were both of them acting up today? Didn't they understand how she felt? That group of children that liked to think of themselves as the company board of directors was on her back about finding a way to sell to Mars ... now Adam was pressing her, and Jason was wanted to stay overnight on the other side of town. She depended on them ...

  You're not being fair, Alexandria, her reasonable voice said. She might have continued the internal debate but something on the screen caught her eye. It was Chaserman again. A reporter was interviewing him and UNSEC soldiers were standing around a group of men and women in plant safety hats and wearing overalls. All of them were Apex Mining employees. She turned the sound on.

  "... right to a safe working environment and increased health benefits. I have statistics that show plant and refinery workers are more susceptible to lung diseases ..." He held up his handcomm for emphasis. "... radiation induced cancer ..."

  "Mister Ludwick ... Mister Ludwick," the reporter interrupted. "Is this solely an Apex problem? Are you calling for strikes across all the domes?"

  Ludwick started to respond but there was a commotion behind him, among the protestors. A UNSEC soldier was pulling a man out of the crowd by his arm and shouting. Somebody shoved him, then the UNSEC soldiers went into action, grabbing protestors and pushing them to the
concrete sidewalk. It was turning into a full blown riot. The reporter's eyes went wide and she backed away. Just as Ludwick turned to see what was happening the camera tilted down and moved fast.

  Alexandria turned the screen off, revealing her flower garden in the backyard through the now transparent bay windows. She stared for a moment, taking in the peonies, buttercups, and camellias. Taking a deep breath she thought maybe the garden was just what she needed.

  * * *

  They had a groundskeeper for the three hectares of rolling green lawn the house sat on, and, of course, an award winning gardener who dreaded when Alexandria put on gloves, a floppy hat, and took up a trowel. She had no real aesthetic sense when it came to gardening or flower arrangement. When she was young it was something she had taken up as a way of escaping her mother. The family gardener at the time was an old man whose name she never knew, but she remembered his weathered face and soft smile. He had been kind enough to suffer the presence of a depressed, little rich girl while he worked. Realizing that she had no real interest in the art of gardening or flowers, he simply showed her how to dig them up safely and transplant them to somewhere else. So that's what she did. She dug flowers up and moved them a few centimeters this way or that in a parody of what the old man showed her some thirty odd years ago.

  This is soothing, she told herself, but Adam and Jason had already planted the seeds that were unsettling her mind. Yes, it was unfair of her to think that, but there it was. They knew these things upset her. Dropping the trowel she pulled off her hat and wiped her forehead with the back of her arm. I'll just go have a quick look. It had been a while since she just went to have a look.

  Walking through the French doors that led into the kitchen she turned and headed toward the living room. Adam was sitting in his chair with his eyes closed and slack jawed, while commentators recapped the game. Like a ghost she walked past into the hallway. Faint sounds of gaming came from Jason's room, she heard him yell something and one of his friend echoed it almost at the same time.