Three days out from the Island, and there had been little talk on the ship. They had left the Island soon after they'd gotten onto the ship, Kelly and Hawkins nodding at one another and speaking briefly on professional matters that Hassan paid no attention to. She had settled into the ship, leaving her luggage in their bags but taking out her computer and some papers and journals. The only real advantage to a long commute was the opportunity to just sit down in an isolate area and truly bear down on much needed grunt work. Which, all things considered, was not much of an advantage. Yet it was a situation that she was loathe to change.
She sat in the lounge of Hawkin's ship, the Black Spot, which was retro-futuristism personified, a black and silver dart with the requisite four darts at the rear; a design relic from the age before orbital flight, when all anyone had to go on were pulp covers. Its interior, however, was surprisingly spacious and modern. Her cabin was tastefully designed and comfortable, but the lounge quickly became her favorite work area in the ship. It was a large room, with chairs, couches, and tables all around it. On one of the walls, surprisingly enough, was a replica of the Bayeux Tapestry, the first and only piece of artwork that she'd seen in the ship. Kelly, as nearly always, was a silent presence beside her. She appreciated, when she ever came to think about it, his taciturn nature. She had had close-protection security before who tried to converse with her to create some sort of emotional bond. What this had to do with keeping her alive, she had never known. With Hawkins spending so much of his time in the cockpit, she had barely said a word in those three days.
Yet this silence was finally broken when Kelly spoke. "I've placed you," he said, his tone even and without any emotion. He sat on another of the chairs, still scanning the room the room but never looking directly at her as he had done in the cafe back on the Island.
Hassan looked up at Kelly quizically, surprised. "Oh?"
"Yeah." He reached into his jacket and took out one of his hard candies and crunched down. "I knew that I've seen you before. Been thinking about this all this time and I got it. Just now I got it.
"This was about two years back. A few of us were working security on Luna, preparing it for an Israeli trade delegation when we got word of an arms sale and possible assassination attempt. Turned out that a group of Turnerized Farnhams had gotten word about the Israelis and were getting ready to kill them. We knew that they were waiting around for something, something they called the 'bullets.' We thought they were waiting for guns from Earth-side to do the hit. We went in to bring them down but found out quick that they were tooled up already; handguns, automatic rifles, body armor. Lost a few people before we finally got them in.
"Afterwards, I noticed you in the crowd as we were carting them away. There was something different about you, weren't one of the lookie-loos. Didn't take you for an accomplice 'cause there's no way someone with your skin could've been with a Turnerized Farnham. Anyway, when we got to questioning them, we found out what the 'bullets' were: tungsten rods that would've been dropped from orbit onto Earth, making a huge but non-nuclear explosion. They were going to start raining those rods down onto major population centers."
Hassan leaned back, remembering the tension and the shouting, the staccato cracking of gunfire being met with gunfire followed by long silence. She remembered the crowds alternatingly pushing forward and pulling away from the center of the action as arrest turned into a battle and then into a standoff that slowly bled away. "It was known technology, the tungsten rods, the programmable ion engines. Nothing that I would do now and something I did reluctantly then. But I took it up as a logistical challenge. They had to be weapons that the Farnhams could manufacture easily with their fabrication facilities. It just became a case of designing a delivery system simple enough to launch into Earth orbit and then maneuver around for targeting. So: rocket mated to computer with GPS access. Finds the target city, drops a rod or two, then moves on to the next target. The initial shipment had only two systems with a payload of fifteen rods each."
Kelly looked at her, his eyes still and calm. Then he nodded and settled back in his seat, releasing a tension that was only noticeable when it disappeared. "So I've placed you."
"Yes."
They were silent again, silent for a long time, Hassan back to her work and Kelly back to his, when Hawkins's voice came out of the PA system. "Doctor, we'll be arriving at our destination soon. Please prepare to disembark."
"Thank you, Mr. Hawkins," she said.
She sat in the lounge of Hawkin's ship, the Black Spot, which was retro-futuristism personified, a black and silver dart with the requisite four darts at the rear; a design relic from the age before orbital flight, when all anyone had to go on were pulp covers. Its interior, however, was surprisingly spacious and modern. Her cabin was tastefully designed and comfortable, but the lounge quickly became her favorite work area in the ship. It was a large room, with chairs, couches, and tables all around it. On one of the walls, surprisingly enough, was a replica of the Bayeux Tapestry, the first and only piece of artwork that she'd seen in the ship. Kelly, as nearly always, was a silent presence beside her. She appreciated, when she ever came to think about it, his taciturn nature. She had had close-protection security before who tried to converse with her to create some sort of emotional bond. What this had to do with keeping her alive, she had never known. With Hawkins spending so much of his time in the cockpit, she had barely said a word in those three days.
Yet this silence was finally broken when Kelly spoke. "I've placed you," he said, his tone even and without any emotion. He sat on another of the chairs, still scanning the room the room but never looking directly at her as he had done in the cafe back on the Island.
Hassan looked up at Kelly quizically, surprised. "Oh?"
"Yeah." He reached into his jacket and took out one of his hard candies and crunched down. "I knew that I've seen you before. Been thinking about this all this time and I got it. Just now I got it.
"This was about two years back. A few of us were working security on Luna, preparing it for an Israeli trade delegation when we got word of an arms sale and possible assassination attempt. Turned out that a group of Turnerized Farnhams had gotten word about the Israelis and were getting ready to kill them. We knew that they were waiting around for something, something they called the 'bullets.' We thought they were waiting for guns from Earth-side to do the hit. We went in to bring them down but found out quick that they were tooled up already; handguns, automatic rifles, body armor. Lost a few people before we finally got them in.
"Afterwards, I noticed you in the crowd as we were carting them away. There was something different about you, weren't one of the lookie-loos. Didn't take you for an accomplice 'cause there's no way someone with your skin could've been with a Turnerized Farnham. Anyway, when we got to questioning them, we found out what the 'bullets' were: tungsten rods that would've been dropped from orbit onto Earth, making a huge but non-nuclear explosion. They were going to start raining those rods down onto major population centers."
Hassan leaned back, remembering the tension and the shouting, the staccato cracking of gunfire being met with gunfire followed by long silence. She remembered the crowds alternatingly pushing forward and pulling away from the center of the action as arrest turned into a battle and then into a standoff that slowly bled away. "It was known technology, the tungsten rods, the programmable ion engines. Nothing that I would do now and something I did reluctantly then. But I took it up as a logistical challenge. They had to be weapons that the Farnhams could manufacture easily with their fabrication facilities. It just became a case of designing a delivery system simple enough to launch into Earth orbit and then maneuver around for targeting. So: rocket mated to computer with GPS access. Finds the target city, drops a rod or two, then moves on to the next target. The initial shipment had only two systems with a payload of fifteen rods each."
Kelly looked at her, his eyes still and calm. Then he nodded and settled back in his seat, releasing a tension that was only noticeable when it disappeared. "So I've placed you."
"Yes."
They were silent again, silent for a long time, Hassan back to her work and Kelly back to his, when Hawkins's voice came out of the PA system. "Doctor, we'll be arriving at our destination soon. Please prepare to disembark."
"Thank you, Mr. Hawkins," she said.