EVAC: IGNITION Page 18

  “Do you mind if we meet with them?” Stefan said softly, understanding that they really had no right to ask, their job was done.

  “Sure, why not, we’re not making any headway. The couple are still sticking to their story unfortunately but I’m sure we’ll find bomb residue on the girl if she’s responsible.” And with that he scraped back his chair noisily and ushered them from the room. “The last one we brought in to custody, the man who sabotaged the perimeter, had to be taken to the infirmary due to oxygen starvation.”

  “I hope John wasn’t overly rough,” Haruka interjected, remembering the state of the man after being wrangled by her six feet, five inch friend.

  John, straightened to his full height, ready to defend himself.

  Peterson laughed, “Don’t apologise, there’s a line of people ready to give him a good kicking for what he’s done,” he winked at them, “me included!”

  On Haruka’s previous visit, the Medical centre was a battlefield. It was a different scene now; the deceased had been moved to a quiet room and the remaining injured were sedated while their burns were tended to. Even the saboteur lay silent; the oxygen mask strapped to his face was there as a precaution but he remained deliberately lethargic to avoid further interrogation.

  Stefan hugged Eileen, “Hey how you doing?”

  Eileen vigorously rubbed her hands up and down his muscular forearms. “I’ve been fine – I’ve been worried about you guys though,” her melodic tone underplaying the extent of her fear. “What a mess,” she shook her head lost in thought for a moment.

  “Eileen, we’ve come to speak to your special guest,” Stefan said quietly.

  “Of course,” slightly surprised, she gathered his chart and strode over to a corner cubical incased in glass. Primarily used for infection control the makeshift prison cell held a nurse, a security officer and the bedridden perpetrator.

  The security officer turned when Stefan rapped on the wall and immediately opened the door to greet them, “Mr. Andersen, Miss O’Brian.”

  It was claustrophobic despite the glass and the gathering awkwardly shuffled around the bed until they all felt comfortable to begin.

  Haruka stepped forward and then hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed. The man turned his head away and closed his eyes. She sighed heavily and then reached over and grabbed the man’s head, wrenched it towards her and whipped off the oxygen mask, roughly. The man yelled out in pain as the elastic sprung back with a sting. Satisfied with his discomfort, Haruka allowed herself a little smile. She studied his face, “Could this man be the Schaefer guy?” she directed the question to herself rather than the group but they looked at each other and shook their heads, bemused.

  Stefan interjected, “Wasn’t that man you spoke to English? This guy is Eastern European I think, judging by the accent.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” she added with disappointment. Haruka stood, she had an idea. Beckoning the security guard, she whispered her request, “Could you ask Peterson to bring down the other two?” He stepped out of the cubical and spoke into his mic.

  “What are you thinking, Haruka?”

  “If we can’t find the Schaefer Tech then one of these men has to be him.”

  It wasn’t long before the arrival of Peterson and the prisoners; the room became ridiculously cramped so the nurse squeezed past the group and hovered outside in case she was needed.

  The likeness was obvious to everyone; they could have been brothers. Both had lank dark hair and pointed features. Now the patient’s complexion had returned to normal all could see their olive skin tones matched. “And if the patient could stand,” Haruka said, “I bet they are the same height. Are you two related?” she asked bluntly.

  They both shook their heads. “But you do know each other?”

  Again, blank expressions.

  Haruka’s patience was running thin and she was beginning to shout, “So which one of you works for Schaefer Space Logistics?”

  The man in the bed instantly pointed to his doppelganger who gasped with surprise, “I’ve never seen this man before in my life; I’m just here on holiday.”

  Peterson put his hands on the man’s shoulders to calm him down; though encouraged to see the man unraveling. “Hey, this situation does not look good for you – your girlfriend’s suspected of a serious crime and you cannot provide us with evidence that you are not involved.”

  Katarina stood slightly behind her partner, squirming in obvious discomfort. It was the longest she’d stayed silent.

  “You can’t provide proof that I am involved, or in fact - my girlfriend,” he spat the words with contempt for Peterson who turned away, wiping his brow with frustration.

  Stefan had been watching the interaction carefully and noted the bedridden man’s response to Tomas’s comment about the girlfriend – he winced.

  Stefan called out, “Tomas!”

  The man in the bed raised an eyebrow.

  “You’ve stolen his identity. Why would you do that?”

  Finally, they started talking. The real Tomas sat up and reached out to his girlfriend who took his hand in hers and lifted it to her cheek. “I can’t believe you were going to walk out of here with my life you piece of shit! He works for Schaefer - Douglas Baxter - he’s as guilty as us!”

  “Hey, you idiot,” Douglas fumed. It was pointless now but he was determined not to go down with them. “Yes, I work for Schaefer and I got them in but they were just supposed to implant a virus and take out the laser cannons - there was nothing mentioned about bombs!” Douglas turned to Peterson and pleaded, “These guys are crazy; they’re the Moon Heritage Society - the mental division!”

  The trio was led away to separate holding cells awaiting transportation back to Earth. With a sense of inevitability, Baxter couldn’t stop talking, so a recorded interview was conducted by Peterson to get the full story before he had a change of heart.

  “So why did you do it. Are you a sympathizer?”

  Baxter shook his head, “No, Michael Schaefer told me to do it.” He rubbed his ashen face with sweaty palms, “I got caught stealing.”

  “So, you are telling me that the head of Schaefer Logistics asked you to sabotage the hotel?” Peterson couldn’t disguise his disbelief.

  “He asked me to allow access to the other two.”

  “Katarina Nemes and Tomas Neumann?”

  “Yes, that’s correct, but I did not know what they were really up to,” Baxter sat back and closed his eyes, as sense of relief came over him as he divulged the truth. Early in the day I took the two of them through to the access tunnel; I had to make sure the area was clear so when all was quiet we ducked into one of the systems rooms – I had the key-codes so it wasn’t a problem. I was to stay with Katarina while she implanted the virus and Tomas was to go down to the maintenance bay so he could disable a laser cannon – he was only supposed to do one.” He paused and bit his lip.

  “What happened next?”

  “Tomas was going to be a while and so he would need a way to get back through the centre when he was finished so I followed him and left my uniform for him to wear when he returned. I had these clothes underneath, by then people would have been evacuating on the other side of the building so it should have been quiet and I could make my excuses in the panic. Anyway, I got back to the plant room and Katarina was gone. That must have been when she planted the bombs. I waited a while but in the end I had to leave and join the rest of the people in the bunker. I pretended to be Tomas.”

  “Baxter, why do you think Michael Schaefer wanted you to do this?”

  “Simple, he hates Crouch.”

  Peterson looked doubtful; Crouch did not win any popularity competitions but he credited Schaefer with more covert retribution.

  “No really, Crouch and Schaefer have had dealings in the past; Crouch refused his help at the consultation stage of this place just out of bloody-mindedness. He’s an arrogant man that thinks he knows best even though he knew Schaefer was an expert in his
field. Think he wanted him to realize he wasn’t bomb proof.” Baxter blushed at the inappropriate but unintentional pun and began picking nervously at his finger nails.

  Peterson pressed a button on the console in the middle of the desk to check that the interview had recorded correctly and then forwarded it to the Earth authorities. He scrolled his finger across the screen and stopped at the last message received. “I’m sorry Baxter but Schaefer Space Logistics are telling us that you were dismissed from their service a month ago, for data theft.”

  “That’s a lie!” he screamed, pounding his fist on the table. But he knew it was futile, he lowered his head until pressed against the cold steel and sobbed, realizing he never stood a chance.

  “So, it was a megalomaniac, just not our megalomaniac,” John concluded.

  “Just keep that to yourself though if you want to stay out of court,” Stefan advised. They stood shoulder to shoulder, taking a final look at the Apollo site.

  Haruka bobbed up between them and chirped, “Shall we go home boys?” They turned to a disheveled ensemble, dragging trolleys of equipment in their direction.

  The crowds of tourists bustled passed the group unaware of their saviors’ exploits, determined to carry on with their holiday of a lifetime.

  Herman bumped knuckles with Claus which initiated an emotional hug. “Hey, you stink, big man,” he said, recoiling in disgust.

  “Yeah, I think I might even enjoy the sand blast showers back at base,” he replied and playfully pulled the young man to his armpit for further inspection.

  At the back of the group Healey watched the friends. The experience had humbled the man for the time being at least and he realized he had some work to do regaining their trust, if he ever had it in the first place. The respect of the world’s greatest business minds had been easy to achieve; he’d have to raise his game if he wanted respect from this bunch of unlikely heroes.

  After a successful meeting with the hotel’s management, a contract was drawn up for all round emergency assistance and it was time to leave. The past few days had clarified two things for the crew; firstly, there was a need for their company and secondly, they had rediscovered that feeling of self-worth that they had all lost somewhere along a Mars transfer route.

  “This is Sam Weismann, thank you for rejoining us as we go back to our intriguing story from The Magnificent Desolation Hotel on The Moon. The intrepid EVAC Rapid Response Team, have done it again! Not only did they overt further disaster and save many lives, they single handedly apprehended a group of fanatics, hell-bent on destroying our treasured landmark.” Sam beamed at the camera, caressing her perfect bouncy curls. “An insider on the scene confided in myself that an investigation is about to commence into the billionaire businessman, Michael Schaefer after one of his disgruntled former employees was implicated in this terrorist plot. Mr. Schaefer has been unavailable for comment but his press office has vehemently denied any wrong doing and suggested the accused – who was dismissed for theft – was on a despicable mission to discredit the company.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Moon nights take their toll. The view of a cyan Earth no longer amazed, it just mocked the Moonlings, trapped in a colourless, suffocating world. A week ago, everything seemed possible, even the prospect of making a home on the baron rock. High spirits could not be maintained indefinitely, especially once the EVAC crew had come down from their adrenalin fuelled adventure to face their boring domestic duties. Some found it more bearable than others. The boys spent most of their days in the hangars and development labs, tinkering with Goby Kapur’s incredible inventions. The crew from the Caspian were certainly a welcome addition to the EVAC family; a once serious, sterile atmosphere had transformed into an energetic think tank, the technicians viewing the new arrivals as their champions, capable of realising their own ambitions.

  Maybe it was anti-climax; Healey did not want to take any chances. “Glad you are all here, I have a proposal.”

  “Not another one!” John teased, taking the last seat at the dinner table.

  “You’ll like this one. I haven’t got this far in business without the ability to judge when my employees are frazzled - so it’s time for some shore leave.”

  It was a popular notion that none of the group wanted to suggest in case it appeared a show of weakness. Discussion passed around the table; plans to meet with family, food to be eaten and from Marcus, past relationships to re-kindle. “There’s a beautiful girl waiting for me in Camden.”

  “Is that where you left her?” Claus could not resist a tease, “What makes you think she’ll take you back; it has been three years for Christ sake!”

  “Bro…. once you’ve had a taste of this bad boy, there ain’t no going back!” He fist-pumped John, his reluctant wingman. Eileen raised her eyebrows in disapproval.

  Beneath the table, Haruka took Stefan’s hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. She kept her voice low and sexy, “How about we visit a deserted beach?”

  He put down his spoon, “I know this remote Fjord beach in Jørpeland; you’d love it!”

  “Stef it’s November! I’d like to get sunburn not frostbite.”

  Stefan nodded, “You’re right, we’ll go wherever you choose. Perhaps we could visit Marcus’s Grandparents in Florida?” he didn’t wait for a response, “Hey Marcus, where to your grandparents live?”

  “Melbourne.”

  “That’s perfect, we could re-visit Kennedy while we’re at it.”

  “Hey, they live in a tiny retirement condo.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting we bunked in with them.” He left the suggestion floating and continued with his breakfast of muesli.

  Healey felt amused at the prospect, “How about I rent us a beach house on the coast? It will be open to you all, you’ll have time to build your strength before catching up with your families and settling your affairs. I might see if we can land at Kennedy.”

  It suited Healey; his team would get their well-deserved rest and he would be able to keep an eye on them. Splitting the group up now, troubled him. A career in Space didn’t suit everyone and he was mindful of Earth’s draw.

  The friends resumed their shared meal. It had been some time since they had sat around the table together; their apartments had become their homes and many cooked microwave meals alone, enjoying the privacy. But privacy led to melancholy, especially in an alien environment. It was unnatural after all.

  The magnificent Adriatic had a makeover; every inch scrubbed and polished for its official unveiling as the flagship of the EVAC RRT fleet. As news of the rescue spread, more sponsorship offers poured in. Healey threw a metre- long cardboard tube to Gopy. “Here you go, another bank wants to join us.”

  He popped open the lid and drew out the indestructible logo. “I’m running out of space,” he said, looking up at the gaudy array of messages.

  “There’s loads of room, put it next to Iconic Lines.”

  Gopy had been invited too. Though reluctant to leave his team unmanaged during a busy time, he did need a break. He needed to reconnect to his circadian rhythms. Healey had him working ridiculous hours, totally disregarding the adopted Earth cycle and insisting instead on an around the clock workforce like miners down a pit. Often the team were so excited by their progress that they didn’t even notice the poor working conditions, but everyone had their limit. One consolation for Gopy was that he would be taking Healey with him, which meant a break for everyone left behind. In fact, he was aware of party arrangements.

  Herman arrived first with his baggage; one in each hand and a crate dragged by EMO.

  “I see EMO is travelling light,” Healey quipped.

  Sarcasm impaired, Herman explained its contents, “I can’t go without my toolbox – I’m thinking of giving EMO an upgrade.”

  Healey rummaged in an envelope. “Hey, I’ve got a few smaller stickers….”

  “Don’t you dare! EMO is not a commercial, he is a state of the art, artificial intelligence.”

 
Healey looked sideways, “It’s a crappy robot, Herman.”

  “Not when I’ve finished with him!”

  Stefan led the rest into the hangar, “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing,” Healey replied, “Herman is deadly serious.”

  “Healey’s mocking me again. He doesn’t believe in EMO’s potential. I want to improve him before Healey replaces him with some emotionless cyber-hero.”

  “Leave the boy alone Healey, he’s only protecting one of the family.”

  “I have more important things to worry about than replacing your pet. Anyway, let’s get this thing packed. Claus is the Bug ready for loading?”

  “Yeah, last time I looked at her.”

  Healey radioed to a technician and a hangar door to the side opened. A loader pulled the little craft to the Adriatic’s cargo doors. Claus’s mouth gaped, “What have you done to her?”

  Thankfully her rounded form remained red, but not the subtle burnt russet; it was racing car red. A highly polished, sponsorship covered cherry, stood before them, its hazard yellow claws, proudly poised for action.

  “She’s ….”

  “Hideous?” Haruka suggested.

  “No, it’s…. just so cool!” Claus bounded over to stroke its hull, placing his cheek against the cold metal.

  “Have you looked at her name?

  His expression changed to concern.

  “Bug can be her pet name but I thought she deserved something more…. formidable.”

  Claus took a step back, “The Baltic. Perfect,” Claus whispered. A crowd gathered behind him; his crewmates as well as the proud engineers followed the craft to the rear of the Adriatic where it was hoisted up a ramp, into its ample cargo bay.

  An hour later, they were ready to leave. Super tugs pushed the Adriatic along the five hundred metre apron to a safe launch distance. The engines rumbled to life. Haruka, with Stefan at her side, made the call to Lunar Flight Tower.