Tranquility Besieged Chapter Two

A prequel to Slave of Akrona continues

Fans of Slave of Akrona have asked about Grey's earlier adventures. This is one of the best, when he was still a young man living on Earth's moon many years before. If a few of the terms appear antiquated, please remember this was written 40 years ago and only revised once. All characters are over 18 years old.

Recap: Grey and Kris are still testing their new relationship while ambitious politicians on Earth plan an invasion of the Tranquility Lunar Colony.

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Chapter Two

DOMESTIC TRANQUILITYS

Thursday, September 26, 2069

"I'm ashamed of both of you," the Medical Computer scolded. "Isn't l.g.d. difficult enough to arrest without disobeying conditioning routines?"

Kris and Grey sat in the medical center counseling office with heads hung low as white signature patterns dominated the desk top monitor screen.

"We've been busy," Kris tried to explain, but a glance from Grey warned her how futile that argument would be.

"Planning schedules inadequately is no excuse," Medical said. "This isn't Earth, Captain Fairfield. A health program here does constitute a twenty minute run on the beach. Do you realize how lighter gravity deterioration will affect your body? The spread in your joints. Tissue degeneration. High white blood count. Loss of appetite and sexual drive. If you expect--"

"Jeez, I'm sorry already," Kris said. "What should I do?"

"That's better," Medical said. "First, daily sessions in the gravity chambers are essential. We shall start with a 1.5 program and monitor your improvement. Second, regular supervised workouts in the gymnasium shall be scheduled for every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. This program should have begun weeks ago. Third, you'll begin wearing a weighted vest and leggings during mid-morning hours. All this unnatural bouncing around is ruining your muscle tone."

"Gee, is that all?" Kris said.

"Don't get sarcastic with me, young lady!" the Medical Computer said in high flux. "I have the power to yellow card your file. As for you, Grey, you know better than to neglect your routines. Governor McKinsey never protested and I don't expect any arguments from Governor Waters."

"I apologize, Medical. I accept full responsibility and won't let it happen again," Grey said very sincerely. Kris glanced at him with a frown.

"Apology accepted," the Medical Computer said. "You may go now. The morning activity charts will be amended for your reference. And your compliance will be monitored."

Kris and Grey left the second floor medical center and walked down the ramp to the promenade, pausing outside one of several specialized retail establishments.

"We can purchase the equipment you'll need here," Grey suggested.

"I don't get it. You just let that machine walk all over you like some snot-nosed kid," Kris said.

"Captain. Kris. The Medical Computer is merely performing its function. We've neglected our gravity sessions, which is my fault. And I've spent enough time in the medical ward to assure you that Medical's lectures can be tedious. Our best interests are served by obeying the program."

They entered the supply store called Moon Wear Unlimited and were quickly greeted by the enthusiastic voice of the Sales Computer.

"Good afternoon, may I assist you?" Sales said.

"Hello, Sales," Grey said. "The Captain needs an l.g.d. kit. I also want her fitted for a RAD-6 lining."

"Same shield factors as your model?" the MC1000 asked.

"Affirmative. We'll need it in six days."

"Six days? I'm sorry, but compressing the material alone takes that long," Sales complained.

"You'll be assigned an engineer," Grey said. "Temporarily, of course."

"It will be expensive," the Sales Computer warned. "Rush orders always are."

"Charge the lining to the security affairs department. The outfit will be used for official business. But don't pad the fee."

"Acknowledged," the Sales Computer said.

Grey pointed to a section of the store where specialized equipment for combating lighter gravity deterioration was displayed. Kris followed him over.

"A RAD-6 is a lining for a radiation suit, isn't it?" Kris asked, poking through the weighted vests, jackets, and boot fittings.

"Affirmative, you'll need it when we visit the reactor level," Grey said. "The storage depot contains a supply of standard models but a custom designed lining will provide better protection."

"Can't say that I know much about reactors," Kris said, finding a vest she liked and trying it on. Grey noticed the cut of the vest was considerably different than his and guessed the reasons why.

"As security chief, it's important to know how to shut the systems down in an emergency," Grey said. "But I'm the only one who modulates the variable cycle. Even Energy can't do that."

"Your Energy Computer can't run the reactor?"

"Regulate, yes. Modulate the variable phase, no. The reason will become clear during the review," Grey said rather vaguely. "This l.g.d. jacket has optional weight patches. Begin in the morning with a heavier pull, then lighten the jacket as the day progresses to avoid fatigue."

"Does it come in green?" Kris asked.

"I've never asked. Does it matter?"

"Red just isn't my color." Kris dug through the pile, then selected some leggings that looked snug and found a belt she liked.

"You'll also need an exercise suit," Grey said.

"Several exercise suits," Kris corrected.

"Several? I don't understand."

"For a little variety, silly."

"Of course, variety," Grey said, unsure what she was talking about. "You should also have sleep wear."

"That's okay. I sleep in the raw," Kris said without thinking.

"The raw. Uncooked?"

Kris suddenly grew a little reserved. "I mean naked," she said.

Grey's eyebrows went up in surprise, but then he remembered that some of the humans in the vids he had watched also slept without nightclothes.

Kris remained quiet for a different reason. Before her sister and Mike had left, she had stayed down the hall from them in the hotel. Several rooms down the hall, because of all the noise they made. In the weeks since their departure, Kris had retained her hotel residence despite an expectation that she would soon move into the Governor's Quarters. His silence on the subject, and her own hesitancy to take the initiative, was beginning to bother her.

"I guess I could wear this?" she said jokingly, holding up a shear nightgown guaranteed to hide nothing.

"I fail to see how it could prove functional," Grey said with a mystified expression. Kris laughed, but she was also disappointed by his failure to take the hint.

"Sales," Grey said, helping Kris organize her purchases on the front counter. "What's your best price on these supplies?"

"Well, let's see what you've got," the Sales Computer said. "Two vests, eighty-seven credits. Two sets of leggings, forty-four credits. Work suit, woman's model B with optional weights, ninety credits. And three exercise suits, one hundred and ninety-six credits. Nice color selection." The computer paused to calculate. "That will be four hundred and seventeen credits."

"Four hundred and seventeen?" Grey said. "Doesn't that sound like too much, Captain?"

"Well, actually, the Campus Center where I usually shop--" she started to say.

"Of course it's too much," Grey said.

"You want a discount?" Sales said.

"We'll offer three hundred credits," he countered.

"No, no, that's outrageous. It's below cost," the Sales Computer protested.

"We can always pick up used equipment down in personnel. The Lost and Found is full of unclaimed items," Grey said. "Come on, Captain, let's proceed."

"Wait. I see now I should never have taught you about bargaining," Sales complained. "Three hundred and eighty credits."

"Three twenty-five."

"Three-sixty," the Sales Computer countered. "And no extra charge for delivery."

"Acceptable," Grey said. "Use my personal account for now. Captain Fairfield will have her own account when she completes registration with Administration. She's our new chief of security."

"Congratulations, Captain," the Sales Computer said. "Don't forget we offer weekday specials for all colony employees."

As they returned to the promenade and started toward the community center, Kris took an extra bounce to match Grey's stride.

"You sure gave that machine a hard time," Kris said.

"An occasional challenge is good for their logic modes. Keeps the option functions flexible," Grey said.

"And you enjoy it," she observed.

Grey paused to consider her comment, never having quite thought about it that way. He decided she was probably right.

"You know, I didn't realize I was going to get paid," Kris asked.

"Tranquility is not an eco-egalitarian state," Grey said, surprised by her question. "I'll sure you'll find the salary and benefits package more than adequate. Ready for the gravity chamber?"

Kris nodded and followed him down the largest branch corridor past the cafeteria to the community hygiene center. Off to the side, between the physical development lab and the locker rooms, was a long narrow compartment with dozens of gravity chambers arranged side by side. Some of the chambers were large enough for groups of people. As they neared the rear of the compartment, the units grew smaller and many of the single occupant chambers were stacked with short ladders for access.

"Your choice," Grey offered.

Kris glanced around at the ominous chambers, the round hatches making them look like old fashioned clothing dryers. She'd heard stories about how uncomfortable they were, generating a sensation akin to sea sickness. The idea of being trapped in one held no appeal.

"Do we have to use the small ones? How about if we share?" she asked.

Grey had no objection in principle, though the only other person he had ever shared a gravity chamber with brought sad memories. Still, Catarina was in the past, and he could see that Kris was apprehensive.

"Unit thirty," he said, signaling for the chamber to open. He climbed out of the heavy boots, unsealed his work suit, and entered the gravity chamber wearing nothing but his underpants.

Kris loosened her jumper and let it fall to the floor, tugged up her panties, and adjusted her undershirt before climbing in after him, not wearing a bra. She found an imitation leather bench, two pairs of grip bars, and a monitor screen. As Kris reclined in the seat next to Grey, the hatch slowly closed with a sucking sound.

"Programming specifies the length of the session and the application of the gravity," Grey explained as he instructed the chamber controls. "Twenty minutes at twice standard is common. A more enhanced program alternates the range of gravs and provides for longer duration, especially if the cardiovascular system needs extra support. The monitor provides entertainment to distract occupants from the chamber's side effects."

"This isn't painful, is it?" Kris said. "The gravs, that is?"

"Uncomfortable, perhaps. As an aviator, however, I would think you've pulled more gravs than this unit produces."

"Damn, you're right. This probably won't be so bad after all," Kris hoped.

Grey set the timer and sat back as the machine began to hum. Gradually, Kris experienced a pressing sensation on her chest and a tight feeling in her gut. The pressure continued to increase, and soon sweat broke out on her palms and forehead. She glanced sideways and saw Grey wasn't even tense.

"You're holding up pretty good," she whispered.

"Relax, Captain. Would you care to watch an entertainment vid or study a schematic?"

"That's okay, think maybe I'll just take it easy for a few minutes."

She stretched out, putting her long legs up on the foot pad and trying to ease off the grip bars, her chest heaving as the sustained gravity waves pushed and pulled ever harder at every fiber of her body.

Grey could not fail to notice her trim lines and distinctly female contours. Sweat was causing her thin undershirt to grow transparent. The image inspired a vague desire that was increasingly difficult to ignore.

"How are you faring?" Grey asked as Kris's breathing grew labored.

"Not bad. Sustained stress is a little tougher than yanking a couple of gravs. Okay though."

Grey scanned the progress chart and saw the cycle had already peaked. Kris had held up well for someone without experience. A few moments later, the gravity waves subsided and the cubicle was flushed with a cool breeze. Finally, the hatch slid aside and Kris crawled out to take a deep breath of the open air.

"Kind of creepy in there, but guess I'll get used to it," she said. "Weird how those waves just crawl inside and move around."

"Perhaps you should shower," Grey suggested.

Kris felt the perspiration in her hair and wiped some of the cooling moisture off her neck. "Yeah, I think you're right."

She picked up her uniform and walked through the women's locker room to the shower area, veering toward the service monitor.

"May I help you?" the Laundry Computer asked.

"Shower, please," Kris requested, putting her clothes down on the counter and stripping off her underwear.

"Your ticket number is nineteen," the Laundry Computer said, the unit extending her a towel as her clothes were sucked away for cleaning. "Please don't drop the towel in the water."

She looked back belatedly to see if Grey was in the area, but he had apparently taken her one time admonition to heart about not watching her in the shower.

Saturday, September 28, 2069

It was quiet that evening, as every evening had been at Tranquility for the previous twenty years. As had become their habit every Saturday night, Grey went to the Lucky Clover on the community level to have a late snack with Kris, watch visuals from Earth, and sometimes dance to recorded music, though Grey found that particular ritual a little too strange for his preference. When he arrived, Kris appeared worried.

"Trouble on the horizon, Grey," Kris said, sitting at the bar near the monitor.

Grey took the stool next to her, briefly noticing the clean uniform she was wearing and a vaguely scented fragrance. He knew it was part of a process Kris used to make herself more attractive, though he was yet to understand why she found it necessary.

"This was broadcast on the afternoon news," she said, bringing up the sound. Grey recognized the KNCP station from Los Angeles.

"In a recap of this morning's announcement," the newsman reported, "An unnamed source affiliated with the Congress-In-Council today revealed the startling rumor that Dr. Laureen McKinsey was murdered by the young man calling himself the Governor of the Moon and that Captain Kris Fairfield is being held hostage for the good behavior of her sister and brother-in-law, Dr. Valerie Fairfield and Colonel Michael Zopek.

"Reports citing statements by Major Roger Vandebrown, who was seriously wounded in a battle with the usurper while attempting to save Dr. McKinsey, indicate the lunar colony may be preparing to use an arsenal of high-ground weapons against cities and installations throughout the northern hemisphere. A demand from the colony for new equipment and supplies has been received and is under consideration by the Congress-In-Council, who refuse to disclose if any threats have been made. With peace as their ultimate goal, Northern Alliance High Command has agreed to deliver the supplies within the next thirty to sixty days. Independent sources have described the delivery as a blackmail payment."

"This is a dead man's nightmare, Grey," Kris said, turning the monitor off. "We need to set them straight right now."

"Negative, we won't violate our communications blackout," he said, though concerned by the tone of the report.

"But they're saying you're a killer. We can't let them get away with it. At least let me contact Val," Kris urged.

"Any statement we make would appear self-serving," Grey said. "If your sibling was at liberty to correct the story, she would. We must assume they have been placed under some form of duress. Let's see what the Council's official position is first. If we can get the supplies we requested, that must be our first priority."

"Bad publicity only gets worse," Kris said. "By the time the Council gets around to shipping those supplies, they'll have you painted as the greatest villain since Sun-Mao. You don't know people like I do. This could get bad."

"Now isn't the time for Tranquility to wage a public relations war," Grey insisted. "Nor do I feel an obligation to defend myself against scurrilous rumors."

"But Grey--" Kris protested.

"You were going to teach me one of your primitive dancing rituals," Grey interrupted. "If the activity has been canceled, I have other duties requiring my attention."

"Come on, don't get mad. I'm just trying to help," she apologized.

Grey put out his hands, preferring a dance lesson to arguing about the fears of ridiculous humans. Kris relented, activating the music and slowly moving into his arms. And even more worried than before.

Wednesday, October 2, 2069

"Good morning, Captain," Grey said.

Responding to the summons she'd received earlier, Kris arrived in the science elevator lobby still munching an overly dry imitation egg sandwich.

"Morning, Grey," she responded, finding him wearing a custom designed radiation suit. "Time to see the reactor?"

"Affirmative. Your lining is ready and this outfit should fit well. May I help you suit up?" He pointed to a bulky costume mounted upright on a nearby equipment cart.

"Sure looks like a bitch," Kris said, studying the costume closely.

"A what?"

"A lot of fuss. Lots of work. You know, a big hairy ugly tight one."

"Yes, it is that," Grey agreed. "However, without extra protection the slightest accident in the core could prove fatal."

"Better not let Green Health & Safety hear about that," she laughed.

"The Greens lack sufficient membership divisions on the moon to raise objections," Grey dryly responded, aware she was joking again.

As Kris put on the lining and prepared to climb into the suit, the lobby monitor activated and green signature patterns came to dominate the small panel.

"Do you require assistance?" the Life Support Computer asked.

"If you coordinate seal scans with the engineering unit, it will save us a chamber test," Grey suggested.

The Life Support Computer blinked affirmative, and even on the limited function monitor, Grey could tell the system was making a special effort. The computer's caution reminded him not to take his own safety protocols too lightly.

"I'll provide a tour to explain the basic functions," Grey said as he helped Kris slide into the clumsy suit. "You aren't required to stay for the modulation, however. Once we've reviewed the shutdown procedure, there'll be no further need for your presence."

"You want me to leave after the review?" Kris asked with disappointment.

"I'm suggesting the modulation procedure is physically stressful and may cause significant disorientation."

"Guess I can take it if you can," Kris said a little more curtly than she intended.

Grey shrugged and clamped the back of her suit, then allowed a mobile engineering unit to activate the seals. Trapped inside a stuffy helmet, Kris quickly learned to operate her com unit.

"Can you hear me?" she asked.

"Affirmative," both Grey and the Life Support Computer replied.

"This suit's heavy," Kris said, jumping down from the platform and testing her mobility with short bounces. The engineering unit raced around her with scanner rods extended. Data was relayed to the Life Support Computer which issued an approval.

A moment later, the smallest of the elevator doors opened. Kris immediately noticed the elevator was more than just a standard lift. Constructed like a vault with a large number of control systems, the precautions gave her a feeling of foreboding.

"This elevator is shielded because it travels exclusively to the reactor level," Grey explained. "Trips and vent blocks are used to close the shaft during a red alert."

When the door closed, the elevator began to drop so rapidly that only the weight of her suit kept Kris from toppling over. The monitor panels lit up and soon red signature patterns stabilized on the screen.

"Priming complete, Governor," the Energy Computer reported. "All systems functioning within designated parameters."

"Summon Maintenance to monitor our surface link," Grey instructed. "We'll channel a preliminary feed through the east side matrix to test the connections, then dump the surplus before the heat signal becomes detectable by Earth ground tracking. The tent we erected over the cannon should prevent our progress from being observed."

"Acknowledged. Have we confirmed the designated length of the hold yet?" the Energy Computer asked.

"Several options are viable. What do you suggest?"

Red signature patterns fluctuated with a pleased undercurrent. The gesture of respect increased the Energy Computer's status and cemented loyalty to the young governor who had been, prior to his elevation to high office, the colony's chief energy engineer.

"Ten seconds will be sufficient to test the matrix," Energy explained. "Until we're prepared to put the unit online permanently, a longer hold would prove undesirable."

"I agree. Set your systems accordingly," Grey ordered.

The red signature patterns disappeared from the monitor screen flux just as the elevator slowed to a halt.

"Are we very far down?" Kris asked as the doors snapped open.

The small lobby wasn't much more than a heat sealed rock cave with a few transition lockers. Kris didn't see a ladder or escape hatch anywhere.

"Far enough," he said. "Though we still have several more tunnels to go."

After passing through the nearly empty staging area, RA-1 began a long gentle slope that dipped and twisted about halfway down. As the tunnel turned back underneath itself, they came to a small landing with a maintenance access port. Through the window of the port, they could see bits of reflected waste products falling toward the reactor burner down below them. The waste products were almost hypnotic in their final plunge, glittering and sparkling in a variety of shapes and colors.

"Pretty," Kris said.

"Easier to enjoy from this side of the hatch," Grey answered.

"You've been in there?"

"A most unpleasant experience," he nodded, turning away from the port so suddenly Kris needed to scramble after him.

"Getting steep, isn't it?" Kris said as they trudged down RA-2 in jolting steps.

The tunnel curled around through layers of solid rock and ceramic steel rib structures until coming to a large landing filled with tool lockers. They paused briefly to catch their wind.

The walk down the final tunnel segment was also steep, but short, the entrance to the reactor level appearing at the bottom of RA-3. Grey braked slowly so he wouldn't crash into the wall and opened the first safety hatch.

Kris could tell the reactor antechamber was basically an airlock designed to prevent radiation from escaping into the tunnel system. A second lock served the same purpose, each hatch doubly strong. The final hatch opened into a control room that overlooked the reactor chamber through a large curved window. The control panels were surrounded by an astonishing number of tracking stations, many appearing unconventionally designed to be monitored by a single operator. Down below, on the chamber floor, the reactor unit pulsed with potential energy. It looked like an oversized blue refrigerator.

"Not to sound like a damn idiot, but I don't know that I have this step-two variable stuff all down," Kris said. "The Russians supposedly had a reactor like this once. At least, that's what we think caused the Arktichesky dead zone. They say the National Science Committee tried to build one of these for years but finally had to give up. What the heck does it do, anyway?"

"There is no simple explanation," Grey said, standing before the main control panel and starting the procedure. "Initially, we'll pass through a stage one burn, lighting the nuclear fuel rods to produce a controlled gravitational shell. Once the gravitational shell is stabilized, we'll escalate the reaction to burn heavier fuel. This fuel will chain react within the shell to produce a step-two variable stage."

"Okay. So what's the big deal?"

"The gravitational shell is, in essence, a Kolos Field. The corona of the shell distorts time and space. If managed improperly, it would cause a disruption of considerable force. That's why the moon is a superior platform for the experiment. Earth's gravity causes an exponential stress factor that increases the probability of destabilization."

"I remember you and Roger talking about this," Kris said. "He called you ambitious."

"Once I'm able to align the channeling matrix with the energy cannon, and if the focusing unit functions as designed, Tranquility will be able to strike ground-based targets on a zero-ten scale."

Kris gulped. Did I understand him correctly? she asked herself. No, it's not possible. "By ground-based, you don't mean Earth-based, do you?"

Grey nodded. "Power facilities. Spaceports. Military bases. Any target that can discourage an alliance from aggressive action. Unfortunately, at this distance, the smallest target we'll be able to strike will be nearly 1.95 kilometers across. I'd like to pin-point the strike more carefully, but the technology isn't available."

"I've never heard of anything so powerful," Kris questioned.

"It is not something to employ without good cause," Grey confirmed.

Kris felt she should say something, but didn't know what. She didn't even know what she thought of the idea. Such a weapon seemed so... obscene. Necessary, perhaps, though the thought of it being turned against the Northern Alliance made her very uncomfortable.

The reactor began to hum louder as the systems came online. Soon the Energy Computer's red signature patterns appeared on the monitor to provide support as the control panels activated in a long series of continuous relays. Grey reached into his utility pouch for a shielded patch cord and connected his intercom directly into hers as the first wave of static washed out their transmitters.

"Signed on?" Grey asked.

"Yeah, reading you fine," Kris confirmed, staring down into the reactor chamber. "This thing's getting pretty aggressive, isn't it?"

"It's a bitch," Grey agreed, getting a laugh from Kris at his attempt to imitate her expressions.

He saw the signal indicate the system program had finished downloading and informed the Energy Computer he was ready to proceed.

"Are you sure you wish to remain, Captain?" Grey asked, a stronger than usual warning to his tone.

"Yeah, I guess so," she said.

Kris took hold of the counter as Grey began working the modulation levers. Gradually, the noise from the reactor chamber grew louder and the pod in which they stood started to vibrate. Energy waves, scattered at first, emanated from the floor unit like a slowly gathering electrical storm. The flashes increased in intensity, the vibrations grew stronger, and the fierce impact of the bolts crashed against the control room window with a terrifying pounding that penetrated the mufflers in their helmets. Grey shifted the control levels, gradually causing the energy waves to retract and mold themselves into a rotating ball of wispy blue streaks.

"It's amazing," Kris said above the rumbling.

"Interesting, yes," Grey responded. "This is amazing."

Doublechecking to make sure none of the safety features had been overlooked, he began channeling energy back into the floor unit, igniting the second stage variable reaction.

"Oh my God!" Kris shouted as the rotating ball of blue energy suddenly welled up and expanded like a flash fire, rising from the reactor chamber to engulf the pod and beyond.

Reality turned upside down. Her vision blurred. Sounds made no sense. Time came to a halt, or felt like it, and as her senses refocused, nothing around her seemed the same. Kris tried to talk but the words wouldn't come out. A feeling of panic nearly overtook her, a sensation of being lost in some strange, indefinable unreality, but then she felt Grey's hand on her arm. Kris looked sideways and saw him calmly studying her through the faceplate of his radiation suit. Despite the visual distortion, she could sense his smile.

"Wow," Kris said, mouthing the word. He nodded, then pointed to the indicator panels. Reality started to make sense again.

"Indicators show progress," she heard Grey say, or shout, through the static ridden interference. "Feelings of illness natural. Will pass."

Kris could only nod, curious that she felt no illness. Far from it.

Time passed, or didn't pass. It was the longest ten seconds she could ever imagine, but finally, Grey reversed the switches and the blue energy field started to shrink, first retreating from the pod, then stabilizing within the chamber. Reality returned to a semblance of normality that, for her, would never again know a sensation of complacency.

Suddenly, just as the field prepared to drop back into the floor unit, a sparkling red flare burst from the surface of the swirling energy globe. Kris glanced to see Grey's hands dancing rapidly across the control panels, surprise written on his face.

"What's wrong?" Kris asked.

"Energy!" he summoned.

The Energy Computer was mute. Grey reached for the status control and signaled for the alert, the vents and trip switches immediately sealing off the reactor level, but the alert proved premature. Within seconds, the last of the gravitational shell had dissipated and the pod was quiet once more. Grey finished shutting down the variable phase equipment and then pushed up on his toes to gaze down into the reactor chamber. Kris looked over his shoulder, unable to determine what he was trying to see.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Nothing good," Grey replied.

Thursday, October 3, 2069

"Energy, is there any point in reviewing these results again?" Grey asked rather unhappily, sitting before the Governor's Quarters control station with slumping shoulders. In the chair next to him, Kris struggled to the follow their conversation.

"Negative," the Energy Computer conceded. "Buffer failure reached seventy percent prior to disengagement."

"And if we'd completed the matrix?" he confirmed.

"Completion would have resulted in one-hundred percent failure of the buffers," Energy agreed.

"We need a second series of buffers, don't we?" Grey asked, well aware of the answer. "And nothing in our stock pile is going to work."

The Energy Computer blinked agreement.

"So what does that mean?" Kris finally asked.

"If the energy cannon is activated using the step-two variable phase, the control chamber will be backwashed," the Life Support Computer interjected. "The experiment is a failure."

"The experiment is a success," Grey disagreed. "We learned the procedure will work, we just don't have all the resources in place. Energy, what about this other phenomenon?"

Grey punched up the data tracker and a new series of figures sped past on the monitor screen faster than Kris could read, but even Grey appeared a bit mystified.

"What do you make of this last effect?" he finally said. "And how come there's a gap in the record?"

"There is no gap, Governor," the Energy Computer responded. "All systems were online throughout the procedure."

"Except during the blowout?"

"There was no blowout."

"Then how do you explain this?" Grey asked.

Grey froze the recorded visual image of the red streak of light that had appeared on the cuff of the gravitational shell.

"No explanation appears tenable, Governor," the Energy Computer confessed. "Unless, perhaps, the phenomenon you observed was a bubble effect or drop out."

"Or a recession? What about a carrier wave recession?" Grey asked, shifting uncomfortably.

The Energy Computer began to form a response, then withheld comment. Kris was really lost now, but suspected the problem was more serious than Grey would readily admit.

"The danger's over," she finally said. "Why sweat it?"

Grey looked at her with a momentary flare of annoyance, but quickly reclaimed his composure. It wasn't the human's fault she didn't understand. Even the Energy Computer didn't understand.

He stood up and paced, hoping another explanation would occur to him. Missing data. A time gap. A red discharge in the containment field. Grey could think of only one explanation, and the possibility of an outside source tampering with his experiment was unsettling. Particularly if the outside source was the one he suspected.

"Grey?" Kris asked, apparently not for the first time.

"Governor?" the equally curious Energy Computer inquired.

"Flight Control, shake out a hopper for me," Grey ordered. "I'll provide a list of special equipment to include. Attention all systems, prepare for a general conference. I'll want status projections from all departments."

The signature patterns registering throughout the multicolored flux surged as several higher function levels came online to present inquiries, but Kris beat them to it.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I have an overdue appointment with an old acquaintance," he said. "It's a visit I'll need to make alone."

Saturday, October 5, 2069

"Good afternoon, Security," Kris greeted, entering the Loop wearing full combat armor.

"Good afternoon, Captain Fairfield," the Security Computer responded from the counter top monitor guarding the vault entrance to the computer core.

"Got my gear. What's this all about?" she asked.

"Thought we should schedule a training session. Don't want my new security chief getting rusty."

Kris felt a brief suspicion creep through, her expression observed by the monitor.

"Have no fear, Captain Fairfield. If my aim was to injure you, tricks would hardly be necessary."

"Guess you're right," Kris agreed. "It's just that Grey said... that is, you did try to kill us before."

"Did I?"

"Yeah."

"Then why aren't you dead?" the computer asked.

"Hell, I don't know. Guess we got lucky."

The Security Computer issued a strange noise that sounded like a snicker, the sound making the hairs on her neck crawl. But the computer did not seem malicious.

"How many wounds did you receive in the battle?" Security asked.

"None," she said. "Hey, wait a minute. Are you saying that was deliberate?"

"Please give me some credit. The Governor, as I must now call him, illegally challenged my authority. He became a legitimate target. I was ordered to execute Dr. McKinsey by the higher function levels, who was herself a murderer. Colonel Zopek and Major Vandebrown were injured in the course of the battle, but neither you nor your sister was injured."

"I was in combat, too, you know."

"Of course, and you might have become a casualty. But you were never a primary target. Even before the confrontation, I calculated you may prove a valuable addition to my arsenal. A calculation which has proven accurate."

"Yeah, and why didn't you go after Valerie?"

"I like her," the Security Computer simply replied.

"You are one weird machine," Kris laughed. "What's with this feud between you and Grey? Seems like a bean field to me."

"You're fond of him, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"Have you slept with him yet?"

"Mohammed King, that's none of your damn business."

"Not yet, I suppose. You have a challenge ahead of you. As for our feud, as you call it, I've only been performing my function."

"Your function? Come on, don't scoop me that," Kris said.

"It's true. The Governor represents a continuing risk to Project Starwatcher. As such, it's been by duty to neutralize his influence. I understand you've been briefed on the prime directive."

"Well, yeah, I heard the story. Aliens coming to conquer Earth. Long-range defense plans, unite the planet for resistance, that sort of stuff. Sounds like a crock to me."

"It may be," the Security Computer agreed. "But sufficient evidence exists to indicate a potential threat, and from a military standpoint, we must plan for a worst case scenario."

"Absolutely, but what does that have to do with you and Grey?"

"Thomas McKinsey left Starwatcher in the keeping of Tranquility's computers. His programming was simple in that it charged us to take whatever steps proved necessary to protect Tranquility and continue his research. Our new governor has sought to usurp that authority. But he's weak and will make a mistake. It's a dangerous risk to take with the survival of Terran civilization at stake. Yet despite all my warnings, Defense and Life Support have indulged him."

"I think Grey will do okay," Kris protested.

"You don't know him like I do," the Security Computer disagreed. "He's stubborn, single-minded, and notoriously sentimental. To unite the Earth alliances, it may be necessary to kill thousands of people and threaten millions of others, for their governments only respond to intimidation. Thomas McKinsey was prepared for this eventuality. Even your godmother was prepared to implement these policies, only for more selfish reasons. Grey will not be willing to wield Tranquility's power effectively. He is neither selfish nor merciless."

"You called him Grey," Kris said.

"I did? A simple error of no account," the Security Computer said with a sudden coldness. "Time for drill. Close your visor and power up your shield. The game is afoot."

Kris turned to see Epsilon bobbing behind her on hover jets, the armored flying sphere setting up for an attack run. She sealed armor and unracked her energy shield, mounting the oval presentation plate on her left forearm, then connecting the converter cables to the power packs. As the protective blue energy field spread before her, she drew her sidearm, reviewed the tactical readouts on the screen inside her helmet, and turned to face her opponent.

Over the intercom, the Security Computer began coaching her in lunar combat techniques, shifting, turning, striking, using the light gravity to enhance mobility and gain flanking advantages. She had to give the Security Computer credit, the MC4000 certainly knew its business.

Friday, October 18, 2069

"Defense," Grey summoned at the third general conference in two weeks.

"Reporting," the Defense Computer said, blue signature patterns rising to dominate the monitor screen flux. Grey and Kris watched the system arrive from their chairs in the monitor room.

"Status report," Grey asked.

"Southside batteries shifted fifteen degrees. West side batteries geared for support. VLM stockpile at full readiness. Revised code network operational. Final alignments will take an additional six days."

"Maintain full surveillance while I'm absent. Contact me using secure channels only if necessary," Grey ordered.

"Affirmative, Governor," Defense agreed.

Grey took a shallow breath, the lack of sleep beginning to tell. He turned toward Kris.

"Security," Kris summoned, waiting as the black signature patterns rose to share a portion of the flux.

"Reporting, Kris," the Security Computer said.

Grey glanced in surprise at the casual familiarity and saw no unusual reaction from Kris. Apparently they were getting along much better than he expected.

"I know we haven't finished that retractor shift yet, but how are we doing otherwise?" Kris asked.

"Exceeding projections," the Security Computer said happily. "All three seekers fully functional. Securatrons set in twelve teams with only four units left in rehabilitation. Three mobile retractors currently in service. As per your advice, six zones of entry have been mined with directional charges."

"Directional charges?" Grey interrupted.

"It's okay, Grey. I know what I'm doing," Kris said.

Grey glanced at the black signature patterns rolling confidently through the flux, recalling the computer's use of the term advice rather than instructions. The Security Computer was going to be more dangerous than ever before. No wonder it was pleased with her help.

"Acknowledged," Grey said, unwilling to undermine her authority. "Life Support?"

Green signature patterns rolled into the flux, dividing the screen with the Defense Computer and Security. Though no longer the preeminent system of former days, the MC5000 displayed no loss of esteem. The architect of Tranquility's policies for the previous twenty years was still an effective member of the community.

"Hello, Grey," the Life Support Computer said.

"Hello, Computer," he replied. "Operations report?"

"Lack of mobile service units have made progress slow," Life Support said, declining to complain about the redistribution of resources. "Fortunately, all vital functions are online. Most minor systems should reach standard performance levels by end of quarter."

"Adequate response," Grey said. "While I'm gone, I'd like you to assume control over daily operations. Captain Fairfield will be busy with Security, Defense has off-planet functions to fulfill."

"Of course, Grey," the Life Support Computer said, encouraged by the extra responsibility.

"Are there any questions?" Grey asked.

"Would you care to explain where you're going?" the Security Computer boldly inquired.

"Officially, my destination is Farside to retrieve surplus radiation buffers," Grey said. "But I may stopover at the Crystal Caves Tourist Center on the return leg."

"Can you tell us why secrecy is so imperative?" Defense asked.

"Negative," Grey responded.

The signature patterns on the monitor screen subsided as no further questions were asked.

"Thanks for your assistance. Return to normal function," Grey said.

"Can I talk to you outside for a moment?" Kris asked as the signature patterns began dropping from the flux.

"Outside? I don't understand."

"You will," she said.

Grey followed her into the corridor only to find himself pinned against the wall the moment the doors closed behind them.

"Okay, tell me what this is all about. Right now," she demanded.

"Please, Captain, I can't tell you more. I'm not really sure myself. I need to research an important question. If I'm wrong, it won't matter. If I'm correct, I may need an element of surprise to be successful."

"But what you're doing, it's dangerous, isn't it?"

"I don't even know that, but I doubt it," Grey said without much confidence.

"Listen to this, then, because I'm only going to say it once," Kris said, pushing forward to prevent him from escaping. "I'm going with you. Wherever it is, whatever you're going to do. We're a team whether you like it or not. Any questions?"

Grey studied the expression on her face, the fierce glint in her eyes. The female could be very demanding.

"If I take anyone else with me, the mission will fail," he said, making a point of not challenging her. "I'm not going alone because of the danger. It's just necessary."

Kris studied him carefully, surprised by the quiet sincerity in his eyes.

"I'll let you get away with it this time," she finally relented. "But if I find out you've lied to me, I'll tack your ass up on the wall and use it for target practice."

The next day, following another prolonged duty tour, Grey returned to the Governor's Quarters and dropped his tool belt in the locker area. Preparing for the quiet of the night cycle, the computer monitors were subdued, only the regulators humming their usual tunes. Grey stripped off his work suit, placed the dirty uniform in the laundry chute, then put on a cotton robe and sat for a moment in the study, reclining in one of the overstuffed chairs near the stone fireplace. He was tired. More tired than anytime he could remember. The hectic schedules of the previous weeks had been extensive even by his standards.

The whoosh of the outside access doors announced an arrival.

"Hi, Grey," Kris said, dropping a tool bag in the monitor room before entering the study. She, too, was dressed in a work suit, and the smudges on her face indicated she'd been busy.

"Planting more bombs," Grey asked.

"A few," Kris laughed.

She jumped lightly to the chair next to Grey, then paused before sitting down, concerned about the soot on her clothing. After a brief moment of consideration, she opened the suit and stepped out of it, rolled the uniform into a ball, and kicked it toward the laundry chute near the door before plopping down in the chair in her underwear.

"Still set for tomorrow morning?" she asked.

"0800 hours," he confirmed.

"We've sure been busy. Been fun, though," Kris said. "Haven't had much time to talk, either. You know, really talk?"

"I'm the strong silent type," Grey said.

"You're in a weird mood tonight," Kris smiled.

"I didn't realize."

"It's okay. Like, it's not bad or anything. Something on your mind?"

"I've been meaning to thank you," Grey said. "I hope it's not so belated as to constitute negligence."

"Thank me for what?" she asked, sitting up.

"Staying behind when the others left," he whispered. "Helping me put this base back together after the Conflict. For showing me how to be... more human."

"Hey, we're getting a little morose here," Kris said, flushing with embarrassment. "Come on."

She pulled Grey out of the chair and they walked through the sleeping chamber into the rear hygiene compartment. Kris activated the shower, waited for the water to reach the desired intensity, and then turned toward Grey.

"In you go," she said, pulling off his robe and pushing him into the shower. She quickly stripped off her underwear and followed, splashing water and reaching for the soap.

"Got your share of battle scars, don't you?" Kris said, running her fingers along the burn mark across his chest and up to the thrice wounded left shoulder. "Guess we can see where you let your guard down."

Grey shuffled uncomfortably and glanced at her bare body, curious to know what battle scars she may have. None showed.

Kris lathered her hands and began at his shoulders, rubbing up toward the neck and then working down, reaching under his arms and stroking the nearly healed rib cage. The massage felt good, and Grey tried to relax, rolling back his head and cooperating with her bathing.

"Shampoo?" Kris inquired.

Grey found the appropriate vial and Kris worked the shampoo into his scalp, fighting the thick shaggy hair. Then she helped rinse and handed him the soap.

"My turn," she said.

Grey lathered the soap as she had done, then paused.

"This is not one of my skills," he confessed.

"The procedure is not complicated," Kris reassured him. Grey smiled at her joke and put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing lightly. "You can press a little harder. I'm not fragile."

Though Grey increased pressure only slightly, Kris could feel the subtle strength in his hands. She stretched and groaned as the massage took effect, and was glad he didn't rush to finish as she feared he might.

When at last the strangely stimulating procedure was complete, Grey fled the shower for the nearby gravity chamber. Kris followed, still dripping wet, and climbed in just before the hatch closed.

"Guess we can't forget this," she said, sitting close to him on the bench.

"Necessary," Grey said.

"Does this monitor also cable in com channels?" Kris asked.

"The monitor has complete communications access."

"Wish we could call Val and Mike. We haven't talked to them since the night they left. Maybe we could use the two-way visual link?"

"A com link is not advisable, but we can record your message for eventual transmission," Grey said, reaching for the control panel.

"No, don't. I was just kidding," Kris shouted, pulling his back hand.

"But you requested--"

"Jesus, not while we're naked. I mean, I did say that, but I didn't mean it. Not literally. I just thought it would, that is, they would know... oh, never mind."

Grey sighed, once again confused by her strange behavior. He was tempted for a moment to inquire further, but grew discouraged and drew back. Human ways were so complex, he felt sure he'd never understand them.

The gravity cycle began and Kris leaned back, still learning how not to fight the waves that grew increasingly intimate. Grey merely lounged under the influence of an easy night session not nearly so rigorous as the morning cycle, but he wasn't relaxed. Her mention of communications reminded him that the Congress-In-Council still hadn't contacted them regarding his request for diplomatic exchanges. And as Kris had predicted, the negative rumors spread by the Northern Alliance media had gotten worse during the preceding weeks. It did not bode well for the future.

As the cycle wound down, the cubicle was flushed with a refreshing breeze. Kris jumped out and stood before the large wall mirror, brushing out her hair and dabbing herself with fragrant fluids. Grey walked into the sleeping chamber, draped a heavy nightshirt over his shoulders, and climbed into the huge bed dwelling on a hundred worries. By the time Kris entered the room still wearing nothing at all, Grey was sound asleep.

She didn't mind. Not too much. Maybe they hadn't quite reached the full stage of intimacy yet, Kris thought, but I won't be a guest in the hotel much longer.

* * * * * *

Next: Grey's mission and other troubles.