‘Data,’ Rhone replied enthusiastically. ‘Real fucking data. We’re establishing parameters at the moment, have received a text message and are preparing to go to full video and sound in a few minutes.’
‘Show me the text,’ she demanded.
Christen hit a button on her keyboard and some words appeared on the screen: PREPARE FOR COM AT 1.05 GMT – RHINE.
‘Why do I know that name?’ Var asked.
‘I’m surprised you do, because Messina has been sitting on him for years,’ said Rhone. ‘I only learned about him because of the usual Committee screw-up, when some bureaucrat confused us with each other.’
‘Who is he?’ asked Martinez, from just behind Var’s shoulder, where he was clearly watching her back.
‘Messina’s pet zero-point energy researcher,’ Rhone explained.
Martinez grunted dismissively.
‘So this is Earth calling to deliver instructions from whoever is now in charge of that mess back there?’ Var suggested.
Rhone shook his head. ‘No, Rhine’s laboratory was aboard Argus. And this is Argus calling.’
‘After all this time,’ Var noted.
‘They couldn’t call before because of the solar storm, which is still interfering badly with radio communications.’
‘It doesn’t interfere with this?’
‘Theoretically, no.’ Rhone shrugged, then glanced back at the oval screen, eyeing a counter there. He stood up and gestured to his chair. ‘I think this one is for you, Base Director Var.’
Var studied the faces surrounding her, then decisively took the vacated seat. She glanced at Christen. ‘Make sure you’re recording all of this.’
The woman nodded. ‘Of course . . . background too, any data we can get.’ Her voice was utterly controlled and utterly cold. As well as being her co-conspirator, Delaware had been her lover. Martinez had ensured that Christen was being watched, which Var didn’t like much because that seemed too much like something the Inspectorate would do.
Now a face appeared on the screen; slightly distorted for a second, then adjusting. For a moment Var thought the adjustment was still a bit off, for the man’s face was thin and seemed etched with too many wrinkles and the white lines of scars.
‘That’s him,’ said Rhone from behind her.
Jasper Rhine smiled delightedly. ‘It works!’ he exclaimed, then turned aside to adjust something, his arm apparently spearing out on one side of the screen.
Var jerked back.
‘3D,’ said Christen, her tone superior.
Var leaned forward. ‘I’m speaking to Jasper Rhine?’
He focused on her as if surprised. ‘Who are you?’
‘I am Varalia Delex, Director of Antares Base on Mars. I am also anxious to know what the hell is going on with Argus Station.’ She ran out of words. She wanted to know so much – such as who was responsible for trashing a large part of the Committee infrastructure on Earth by dropping the Argus satellite network on it – small things like that.
‘We’re independent now,’ said Rhine, waving a dismissive hand while still concentrating on something out of view.
‘What do you mean “independent”?’
He focused on her again. ‘The Owner runs the show here, but we’re free.’ He paused, momentarily puzzled, then shrugged. ‘Free as can be.’
‘First com in a month, and we get a direct line to the asylum,’ Martinez muttered.
‘So many thought I was crazy,’ Rhine snapped back, obviously having overheard. ‘
‘Sorry about that,’ she said. ‘Jasper is a bit twitchy at the best of times. My name is Hannah Neumann.’
Var noted the sharp intake of breath from both Rhone and Christen. They knew – or knew of – this woman. Could this be the person who controlled Argus? No, Rhine had referred to an ‘Owner’ who was male?
‘Understandably the state of Jasper Rhine’s mind interests me rather less than the Argus network dropping on Earth, and the Argus Station now being on a non-conjunction route towards us,’ said Var. ‘Perhaps you can tell us something about that.’
‘In good time,’ said Neumann. ‘First I need to know who is
‘We no longer have a political director,’ Var declared.
