East of the Sun, West of the Moon

Chapter Fifteen

Linda was frowning in her mirror when there was a knock at the door. Ever since the debacle with Herzer Herrick, Shamon had been a bit less friendly. He still was maintaining the apartment but she suspected it was time to start shopping for a new “friend.” However, Duke Dehnavi was out of town at his country home at the moment, so she had time to look around and certainly wasn’t expecting visitors.

She stood up and put on a robe, hair up and makeup half done, and went to the door. Whoever it was, they could damned well see her like this. Maybe it would scare them off.

The “visitors” turned out to be two Federal Rangers, one male and one female, in light leather armor.

“Miz Linda Donohue?” the male officer asked, consulting a clipboard.

“Yes?” she replied uncertainly. Shamon probably had enough power to have her arrested or detained, but she couldn’t imagine what the charge would be. And she hadn’t thought he was that pissed off.

“Miz Donohue, you’re being temporarily detained under the War Powers Act,” the officer said, stone faced. “Could you change into comfortable clothing, pack enough clothes for approximately three days in no more than one bag and come with us?”

“What is this about?” Linda said, her eyes widening. “I haven’t done anything!”

“Ma’am, I do not know,” the officer said, gesturing at the female officer. “Ranger Varnicke will remain with you while you prepare.”

“I’m not going anywhere until someone tells me what I’m charged with!” Linda snapped. “I’ve got powerful friends, buddy, you can’t just up and snatch me out of my apartment!”

“Ma’am, you’re not charged with anything,” Varnicke said placatingly. “And we don’t know why you’re being detained. Our orders are to pick you up, take you to a colonel at the War Department and then pick up two more people.”

“And as for your friends,” the still unnamed male officer said bluntly, “you’ll be permitted to contact someone once you reach the War Department but you’re to communicate with no one while you are in detention. Now, please prepare to leave.”

Stunned, Linda let herself be led into her own apartment by Ranger Varnicke while the male remained outside, presumably on guard. Varnicke helped her pack while Linda finished her makeup.

She was taken through Washan in a closed, and stuffy, carriage, to an outlying building at the sprawling headquarters. There she was turned over to a Blood Lord soldier who escorted her to a windowless room with only one door in which three other people waited.

“Does anyone know what is going on?” she asked, dropping the leather satchel with all she currently possessed at her feet and sitting in a hard-backed chair.

“No idea,” a man said, running his eyes over her. “But the view’s certainly improved.”

Linda snorted and examined her fellow travelers. Two of them had to be well over a hundred, one of the two having the look of someone who spent most of his time in a day-labor job.

“Where are you from, miss?” one of the older men asked. “We’re all from Raven’s Mill but I don’t recognize you.”

“I’m from here,” she said, shrugging. “I lived near Washan… before, you know? And I moved here.”

“What do you do, miss?” the one that looked like a day laborer asked.

“I’m a secretary,” she said, shrugging. “I work in a duke’s office.”

“Lucky duke,” the man who’d commented on the view said.

That apparently exhausted the fund of small talk available and they sat in silence for an extended period of time. There was no way to determine how long but the wait seemed interminable. Linda spent her time mentally composing the note she was going to send to Dehnavi.

Finally the door opened and the same Blood Lord that had escorted her to the room gestured from the opening.

“That’s apparently it, for now,” he said. “If you’d please come with me?”

“Where are we going?” Linda snapped. “I was told I could send a note to someone telling them where I’d disappeared to.”

“You’ll get a chance,” the Blood Lord said. “Later. Come with me, please. If you see anyone you recognize, just smile and wave. No talking or discussion.”

There were three more Blood Lords waiting for them and the group was escorted around the edge of the War Department zone and to a portal in another enclosed room.

“Where in the hell are we going?” Linda snapped, balking at the portal.

“Seventh Legion’s camp,” the lead Blood Lord answered. “Enter the portal, ma’am.”

Linda gritted her teeth and stepped through after the other three. There was another group of Blood Lords on the far side standing in a three-sided shed. From it, the bustle of the Legion camp could be observed and Linda noticed that there was some sort of inner camp with a gate just down the street.

“Manuel Sukiama?” the sergeant in charge of the group asked.

“Here,” one of the older men said.

“Josten Ram?”

“Here,” the man who’d commented on her looks answered. “What is this all about?”

“You’ll be told soon, sir,” the sergeant answered. “Linda Donohue?”

“Here,” Linda snarled. “There is going to be hell to pay about this.”

“As you say, ma’am. Geo Keating?”

“Here,” the day laborer said.

“You’re Geo Keating?” Linda gasped. “You wrote Sixth Order Mechanics.”

“That was a long time ago, young lady,” the man said, his face breaking into a smile. “Thank you for remembering.”

“What the hell are you doing looking like…” She paused and gestured embarrassedly.

“Ah, well,” the man said, shrugging his shoulders with a slight smile. “Not much work for quantum engineers these days, is there? Take life a day at a time.”

“Could the four of you come with me, please?” the sergeant said, walking out of the shed and towards the inner camp.

“I love how polite they are,” Linda said, sarcastically, shrugging her satchel up and following. “As if we have a choice.”

“Well, it’s better than what I’d be doing today,” Keating said. “Could I help you with your bag, miss?”

“I can carry it,” Linda said, noticing for the first time that he didn’t have a bag of his own. “Where’s your stuff?”

“This is my stuff, miss,” the man said, looking around the camp. “Lovely use of space, very efficient.”

“I’d think that some of your background would have transferred to the new tech,” Linda said, puzzled. “Couldn’t you get work as, I dunno, an engineer.”

“The requirements for modern engineering are a bit far from my area of expertise, miss,” Keating said, frowning. “I actually tried at one point but… I’m really not a good day-to-day engineer. I tend to… wander mentally. And there’s not much room for impracticality these days. Digging gives me plenty of chance to think. It’s not all that bad of a life. I never was much into material possessions; I donated almost all of my credits to the Wolf project before the Fall. So I live life one day at a time, find some work that keeps me in food and… think. It’s not the worst life possible. And I’ve done good work these days, helping to build Raven’s Mill. In a way, creating a well-built wall is as satisfying as publishing a well-thought thesis. Perhaps more so; I don’t have to defend my wall. It is there for everyone to see and admire. It keeps the wind out and with a roof it keeps the rain off. When I build a foundation, you know that the wall will stand. And when I build a wall, you know that the roof will stand.”

“And when you build a roof?” Linda asked, smiling. “And please call me Linda, Mr. Keating.”

“Ah, I don’t do roofing, miss,” the man said, shrugging. “Afraid of heights. Don’t even do high walls if I can avoid it.”

They had reached the gates to the inner camp and were passed through. The camp on the far side was centered around a lake and more substantial, with two-story wooden buildings filling most of the space. She also noticed that the few people in view were all wearing badges on lanyards. A secure area, then, something like the inner areas of the War Department.

They were led to one of the closest buildings and to another waiting room, this one fitted with comfortable chairs and a wall clock; it appeared to be some sort of a rec room. There were a few books and magazines scattered around. Although from the looks of the books and magazines it was a rec room for mostly males, probably the Blood Lord guards.

There was a pleasant-faced older woman waiting in the room and she nodded as they entered.

“Welcome to Icarus Camp, I’m June Lasker,” the woman said. “In a moment I’ll be interviewing each of you and explaining what’s going on. I know you’re all upset and I’ll ask you to try not to take it out on me. I’m just as stuck in this as you are,” she added with a smile. “So, what did the net bring in this time? Names, in other words.”

“Josten Ram,” Josten said. “So, what is this all about?”

“I’ll be informing each of you individually,” June said, referring to her clipboard. “Ah, one of the pilots. Mr. Ram, if you’ll accompany me?”

“Icarus,” Keating said, settling in one of the chairs. “How fascinating.”

“Icarus?” Linda said, sitting down next to him as the Blood Lords filed out of the room.

“A Greek myth,” Keating replied, musingly. “The inventor Daedalus and his son Icarus built the Labyrinth for King Minos of Crete. Thereafter, Minos imprisoned them in a tower so that Daedalus couldn’t tell the secrets of the Labyrinth to anyone else. But Daedalus constructed wings of wood and wax and the feathers of the seabirds that flew around the tower. Then he and Icarus flew out of the tower. Daedalus had warned Icarus not to fly too high, lest he get too close to the Chariot of Apollo, the sun. But Icarus, drunk with the glory of flight, flew too high and the wax melted from his wings, casting him into the sea and to his death.”

“And that means… what?” Linda asked.

“Oh, many hypotheses exist,” Keating said with a twinkle in his eye. “They could be planning on seeing if we can survive a high drop into the sea. A low-order hypothesis, I’ll admit,” he added with a chuckle.

“Or they could use an inventor to build a labyrinth,” Linda said, getting into the game. “All you’d have to do is rewrite your particle theory equations then run walls from one set to another. That would be labyrinthine enough!”

“Do you really think they were too complex?” Keating asked, worriedly. “I found them elegantly simple, myself.”

“Some of us, sir, are mortals.” Linda sighed. “I think I stayed with it up to the second theta transform and then I went out to a party and tried very very hard to forget. I’d thought I was pretty good at transform equations until I tried to keep up with you.”

“Well, such things take time to fully explore,” Keating replied unhappily. “But we can take a look at it here,” he added, pulling out a scrap of charcoal and picking up one of the books. Turning to the back page he found a clean area and started inscribing equations. “The second theta is a quaternary transform—”

“Linda Donohue?” June said, from the door.

“Later, Professor,” Linda said, tapping him on the arm. “I’d be fascinated to try to figure it out.”

“Do you know who is sitting in there?” Linda snapped as the door closed.

“Manuel Sukiama and Geo Keating?” June said, leading Linda down the corridor.

“And do you know who Geo Keating is?” Linda said, angrily.

“It says he’s a particle field theorist,” June answered, pausing to consult her clipboard.

“He’s not just a particle field theorist,” Linda snarled. “He’s one of the finest minds in history. And he’s been working as a day laborer in Raven’s Mill! The man is a legend in his field and he’s sitting in there sketching equations that not two people on Earth can understand! If we still had things like Nobel Prizes he’d take the Nobel in physics every year!”

“I’m…” June said then paused. “I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of him. But I’ll be very polite when I interview him. And I’ll try to explain his importance to Commander Herrick.”

“Herzer Herrick is here?” Linda said, her eyes widening in horror.

“Yes, he’s… well, we need to have our in-briefing,” June said, tilting her head. “Is… do you and Commander Herrick have a… background? I know that he has had… a number of lady friends.”

“It’s not that…” Linda said, her face tightening and then a look of horror even worse than the last crossing her face. “Oh, God, Countess Travante isn’t here, is she?”

“Yes,” June said, raising an eyebrow.

“I need to leave,” Linda snapped, looking around wildly and panting in panic. “I don’t care what this is all about. I need to leave right now!”

“Two things,” June said, glancing at one of the Blood Lord guards in the corridor. “The first is, you cannot leave. Period. You can try to run, but the camp is guarded and you will not be permitted to leave after entering the camp. So… just calm down. The second is, we need to talk about why you were brought here. But not in the corridor,” June said, gesturing down the hall. “Come on, find out why you’re here, then make decisions.”

“Crap,” Linda said, glancing at the Blood Lord and shaking her head. “Let’s go. I’ll listen. But Megan is… crap. I’m gonna die…”

“I think we need to talk, dear,” June said, patting her on the shoulder.

June’s office was comfortably appointed and she gestured Linda into a chair, then collapsed behind her desk.

“I didn’t ask for this job.” June sighed, opening up a file and shaking her head. “But I got it for my sins. Miss Donohue, the reason you were brought here is that when you applied for your job with the government you listed a background in quantum engineering. That was your hobby, pre-Fall?”

“Yes,” Linda said, shrugging. “I tinkered at it. Particle field generation theory, ionization theory and fusion mechanics.”

“A mission group is being formed that needs persons with your background,” June said. “Whether you agree to go on the mission or not, you will be confined to this camp until the completion of the mission. Even the fact that we are gathering such persons cannot come to the attention of New Destiny. Therefore, for reasons of security, we can do that under the War Powers Act. Your employer, which is the government after all, will be informed that you will be ‘away’ for a period of time and that you must be given your previous job back. You may send a note to one person,” June said, pulling out a printed card and slipping it across the desk. “That is the only communication that you will be permitted.”

Linda looked at that card and blanched. It was preprinted with a trite message about being unavailable for at least two months and helping out “the War Effort.”

“This is bullshit,” Linda snapped. “Damnit, I work for Duke Dehnavi! You can’t do this to me!”

“That is as it may be,” June said, sighing. “As I said, I hope that people won’t take this out on me. At a later time you’ll have people to shout at that are much more responsible for your predicament than I. And they’re better at being shouted at.”

“Herrick,” Linda spat.

“He is one, yes,” June said. “Can I ask you your… background with Commander Herrick. It won’t affect your being here; that is set in stone. But it may affect your participation in the mission.”

“No, you may not,” Linda answered, shaking her head. “What a nightmare!”

“Yes,” June said, shaking her head. “That is one adjective used for it. Insanity. Power-mad-myrmidons. Idiocy. Stupidity. Shanghaied, a very old term which I fortunately recognized. Insanity, again. Nightmare. One gentleman, who was a student of ancient literature along with being a qualified pilot, used ‘Kafkaesque’ for which I needed an explanation. But you haven’t gotten to the good part, yet.”

“And what is the good part?” Linda said angrily.

“The mission for which you are being asked to volunteer,” June said, smiling humorously.

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” Linda said.

“Probably not,” June replied, shaking her head but still smiling. “But let me get most of my spiel out before you start screaming, okay?”

“Ooo-kay,” Linda said cautiously.

“You’ve been brought here to join a mission to retake the returning helium three refueling ship,” June said. “My bet is that your response will be: ‘You are joking.’ Possibly followed by either: ‘Right?’ or ‘Tell me you’re joking.’ That’s as opposed to more stereotypically male responses such as: ‘No fisking way.’ ”

Linda opened her mouth and then closed it.

“You’re not joking,” was what she finally said.

“No, I am not,” June replied. “New Destiny intends to capture the ship so that they can monopolize the fuel. So are we. We hope that you will be willing to participate. In your case, you have background in the engineering tech used on the ship. Whether you participate or not, you will be kept at this facility. If you chose not to participate in the mission, we’ll still ask that you accept a support position. However, the mission positions are far better paid. Far better.”

“How much?” Linda asked.

“You are classified as a Level One Engineering tech,” June answered. “That is nineteen hundred credits per month and a twenty thousand credit bonus upon mission completion, based upon mission performance.”

“That’s a lot,” Lind said, frowning. “But explain the mission performance thing.”

“The credits are banked,” June said. “There’s nothing to spend them on, anyway, and you’re given full support here. If you agree to perform the mission and then refuse at the last minute your salary is recalculated at minimum maintenance, which is thirty credits per month.”

“That’s less than what a day laborer makes!” Linda snapped.

“You’re being supported, unlike a day laborer,” June pointed out. “That is also the rate at which you will be paid if you refuse to support in any fashion. If you agree to do the mission, go on the mission and then are unable to perform under the conditions, you get the training money but not the bonus. That is the ‘mission performance’ clause. If you are unable to complete the training or drop out, you get the full pay up until that time, up to two weeks before the mission. Backing out in final training reverts you to maintenance pay. Now, I’ve talked about the pay, but there’s more to this mission than money. It’s a very important…”

“Can it,” Linda said. “Appealing to my patriotic side is like appealing to my male side; it doesn’t exist.”

“Very well,” June said primly. “Then I’ll point out that the monthly pay is nearly twenty times what you make as an IS-6 and the bonus is enough to make you mildly independently wealthy. The pay rates are gauged with your point in mind. You get the money in lump at the completion of mission or it goes to your designated beneficiary. I suppose I don’t have to add that risk of loss of life on the mission is high?”

“No, that’s pretty obvious,” Linda said. “I’d guess I get to think about it.”

“Yes,” June said. “Most of the interviewees do. I’ll have you escorted to Security where you’ll be issued your initial badge, then to the transient single female quarters. There’s really nobody that you can talk to who is in support or on the mission team about the mission until you perform it, however.”

“That’s fine,” Linda said. “I just want to think about it for a bit. Where’s Mr. Keating going to be?”

“That depends on whether he agrees to perform the mission or not,” June replied. “If he does, he’ll go to permanent quarters. If not, he’ll be in the transient male quarters, which is on the top floor of the same building you’ll be in.”

“I’d like to talk to him again, whatever I decide,” Linda requested.

“That will have to wait, I’m afraid,” June said with a shrug. “Let me call the guard. I do hope you agree to perform the mission; we need you.” She paused in thought and then shrugged again. “I could talk to Commander Herrick and try to have you assigned as… I guess Mr. Keating’s assistant. He’s somewhat aged; I’d suspect he would appreciate some assistance.”

“He’s been working as a day laborer, remember?” Linda said, shaking her head. “He can probably break me in half. But if he agrees to do the mission and if you can get me assigned as his assistant… I’ll go. I don’t know what help I can be to him, but he’s an important man, a genius. And, okay, absentminded. Maybe I can be of use.”

“I’ll make a note of that,” June said. “Now, let me get you an escort.”

“I think I can find the quarters if you just give me directions,” Linda said.

“If you’re wandering around without a badge, you’re likely to get killed by one of the guards. And we wouldn’t want that.”

“I can tell I’m going to love it here.”