Alien Cradle, Jeff Inlo [graded readers .txt] 📗

wanted to be ready with an answer for what happened to the Fenrites, and no one wanted to take responsibility. Even Govern accepted the plan. Simple truth is that the Authority was too worried about making it look like the Fenrites obliterated themselves. They used the wrong weaponry. Stupid. They should've just gone down there and blasted them with particle beams and XM bombs. It would have taken longer, but we would've gotten the job done."

"Are they considering that now?"

Jack released an irritated sigh. "Not likely. There's a bit of a power struggle going on between the Authority and certain council members, even with Regency Govern. I'm afraid I'm at the heart of that as well. The idiot Station General feels I insulted him and questioned his individual command. He's not about to simply follow the recommendations of any civilian council. He's even called in the Authority's top leaders in an effort to restrict interference from non-military personnel. I'm afraid that's going to cause a long delay. Meanwhile, I see no reason why the Fenrites won't continue to advance."

Dr. Sinclair paused to consider this heavy news, nodded as options played out in her mind, options that might now reverse her current direction toward uselessness. She played the card that seemed to offer the best chance at recovering some of her previous power.

"That's the question that should be answered," Sinclair said with great conviction. "We still don't know why they have moved forward with such acceleration. As far as I'm concerned, that is the heart of all our problems."

"I agree. I also believe it's dangerous to let the Fenrites examine or even see any of our own creations. I relayed these concerns to Regency Govern. In this matter, they have received cooperation from the Authority. No one wants to risk further failure, so for the moment, there will be no more attacks on Fenrir. There will also be no atmospheric reconnaissance. There's even going be a reduction of scans. Our observations will be strictly visual with no wave patterns, no particle beams; nothing the Fenrites can detect."

The subtleties of such a situation were not lost upon the doctor.

"Then we're in a holding pattern, essentially maintaining the status quo, but we'll still be watching them."

"That's correct."

Sinclair thumped a pudgy fist down on her desk top. "And the Fenrites still exist, and they still need to be studied. And if that's the case, I want my old position back. No one is more qualified to lead this investigation."

Jack was quick with his response. "You're not going back to that council. Under my assertions, a new council has been created, a council to deal with the Fenrite problem." He held up a hand to keep her from interrupting. "This council will have unlimited resources and will report directly to Regency Govern. It will not be subservient to any other general council, not the Exploratory Council, and not even the Authority. This council will not officially exist; the general Regency public will have no awareness of its duties or its members. This is the council you will chair."

Her face crinkled and despite the power she now had in her grasp, she decided to gain some vengeance. "I see, Regency is now crawling back to me. How can you all be so sure I will be so willing to come to your aide?"

"Elizabeth, please. Remember who you're talking to. Do you really think for a moment I am going to believe you won't take this post, or that you would have me walk out of here and hand this seat over to one of your critics?"

Dr. Sinclair leaned back in her chair. She eyed the coordinator with suspicion, but in the end, she nodded with acceptance. Her demeanor changed instantly, as if she had emerged from a cocoon. The thought of such power; chairing a council to deal with the Fenrites, to act without the chains of other councils, with the veils of secrecy; it renewed her vigor, her personal desires. Her thoughts swam in hundreds of directions. She considered potential peers to join her and which critics to omit, of possible studies, and the ultimate purpose of such an endeavor.

Jack returned to the more mundane of their problems. "This is not going to be as easy as you might expect. We have literally hundreds of possible leaks and loop holes, from the technicians that scanned the planet during development, to the pilots that fired the nuclear weapons."

"The pilots are the Authority's problem," Sinclair noted, almost oblivious to the potential pitfalls of such a decree.

Jack quickly reminded her of the tense relationship between the numerous councils and the military. "The Authority is currently in direct opposition to Regency Govern. They do not want this handed over to another council. They will resist that."

"They'll want to cover their own ass. That's what this is about. As for the pilots, the Authority selected individuals that understood the nature of this situation. I truly doubt they're afraid they'll reveal anything."

"It's more than that, but I'll accept that the pilots are less of a threat than the technicians."

"That is a potential problem," Sinclair agreed "We've removed their reward of studying the Fenrites. We have to offer them something of equal value, and make them understand it is in their best interest to cooperate."

"You have to accomplish this without letting them know this new council exists," Jack advised. "We also can not depend on immediate assistance from the Authority's security and spy personnel. That means we have to find other resources to maintain security. Let me remind you that there were close to three hundred techs aboard the Planning Station. There are another fifty-seven council members of various assemblies that are aware of the truth behind Fenrir."

"You think council members may be a threat?"

Jack did not hesitate. "Until I named you as the chair of this new council, I considered you a threat."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Absolutely. Your work was gone and you had nothing left to do. I doubt full retirement would have pleased you. You would have grown restless."

"And what were you going to do about it?"

"It was my hope that you would have been offered a position on the General Exploratory Council, nothing of specific interest, but enough to keep you busy. Regency Govern agreed and the offer was forthcoming, until this little change of course."

"Why wasn't that offered immediately?" she asked with some displeasure.

"Some members of Govern wanted to see you punished. They thought a period on inactivity was called for. And they didn't want you to think of this as a reward for what they still think is a terrible mistake."

"The mistake was made by the idiot geneticists. If I had my way..."

Jack grinned and reminded her of the new situation. "Now you do have your way. You will choose how to identify and rectify these mistakes. But we still have to consider the possible snares. I agree the Authority will take care of their own, even if they are currently at odds with the councils. There's a Station General that would probably spill his guts to get even with me, but he's already been reassigned."

"Punished like me, huh?"

"Hardly. He was rewarded with a new post in a very active location, lots of marauders, and lots of problems. That's what he wanted. He has full Fleet Command Authority and doesn't have to deal with the likes of me."

"Interesting tactic."

"Nothing less than you intend to do with the research technicians. I believe these are all problems we can handle. As long as we remain attentive to the details, we'll be fine. But we still have that one nagging problem that seems to keep coming back to us. The scout, Scampion. He wasn't very cooperative in the last few days."

The doctor actually grunted. "I don't see why that should be my problem."

"Like it or not, he's part of the whole package."

"Can I leave him up to you?"

The coordinator hid a smile, but he jumped at the request. "If that's what you decide. You have the funding and clearance to do whatever you wish on all matters involving the Fenrites. That includes Rath Scampion."

The credits in Rath's account, courtesy of the Authority payroll, allowed him some time to relax. Janus certainly wasn't a pleasure garden, but there were enough taverns and betting palaces to keep him occupied for a few months. He won a little to start, but when his luck turned bad, he stopped gambling. He enjoyed the break, tried to forget about Fenrir, but that just wasn't possible. He accepted the fact that this little piece of history was going to nag at him for quite a while, perhaps the rest of his life. After another few months of meandering about with nothing much to do, he turned his attention back to the scout bids. He still had his ship, and it was something to do.

He also remembered a pledge to Lar, a promise to continue his scouting and to use Lar exclusively as his middleman. And why not? He owed Lar at least that much.

Looking through the bids wasn't as bad as he remembered. It was kind of hard for him to admit, but he wanted to go out again, especially now. He had the kind of ship which would allow him to make bids to most any star system, and he wouldn't have to face the same rigors of atmospheric entry.

He thought about his new scout and how he obtained it. He also considered what Lar had said about the whole ordeal, about crime actually paying. He didn't get what he originally wanted, but maybe he did come out ahead. He wondered if he would do it again. He had a new scout and a good deal of funds on account. What was the down side?

Dealing with Jack. That wasn't pleasant. But that was over, and here he was back on Janus and perhaps even looking forward to making scout bids. But would he do it again? He just didn't know.

Before making his actual proposals, Rath returned to the freighter pads, and his own ship. He wanted to gauge current fuel prices, landing fees, and maintenance costs before calculating a half dozen bids.

He tracked down a maintenance robot with an input device. He laser-cabled his portable to the current price list. No real changes.

The cost for maintenance nagged at him, like something pinching at the back of his neck. It wasn't that it was high; it just left him scratching his head.

He walked away and toward his scout. He'd let the advanced onboard computer do multi-calculations for several bids rather than watch his portable struggle with the load.

Once in his cockpit, he downloaded a bid program from his portable as well as the costs he obtained from the maintenance robot. He linked his scout to the complimentary quote computer on the pad in order to determine potential revenues for different loads. Emeralds still demanded outrageously high bids and continued to climb. Again, he thought of Fenrir, of the emeralds he had left behind.

"Fenrites probably don't even know how much money they have down there," he grumbled.

The thought of the mineral deposits on Fenrir bothered him as well, a good deal like the maintenance bothered him. For some reason, he kept thinking of a big jigsaw puzzle and he was being handed a bunch of little pieces.

He stared at a monitor as the