It was beginning to dawn on Rose that they were really hijacking
the ship, and if they were successful, then her son was probably not going to
be travelling down the wormhole, and was probably not going to die. She, on the
other hand, probably was. But she didn’t care about that. As long as he was alright,
she was willing to sacrifice herself for him….again….as she had done her whole
life. Well, what were mothers for?
As the import of this sank into her consciousness she
visibly relaxed and began to look around with a new set of eyes; hijacker’s
eyes. How could she help this Dutch woman steal the ship? It was now imperative
that they succeeded. She looked at Dutch. The woman obviously had a lot on her
mind at that moment, and added to that her friend Sweet Mary was distracting
her by whimpering and wandering around aimlessly with those large terrified
eyes while she was trying to keep her gun trained on Officer Angelo. Dutch was
just about to shout at her again when Rose stepped over to Sweet Mary and put a
comforting arm around her shoulders.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Don’t you worry, your friend seems
to know what she’s doing. Everything’s going to work out fine.”
But Sweet Mary was way beyond positive platitudes. She was
close to hysteria. She kept trying to turn around and go home again. She just
couldn’t stand the tension of the situation and wanted to leave, but somehow
Rose managed to steer her along the corridor and through the hatch into the
flight deck where everyone was milling around, giving the impression of at
least twice as many people as there really were.
“Okay everyone into
their seats and buckle up; all except you lady…Rose. Angelo, you sit opposite
me where I can keep an eye on you.” She pointed her gun at his seat. “And you,
Sweet Mary, concentrate, for god’s sake. Why must you always dither about?” Her
head was spinning with trajectories and vector calculations that would get them
away from here as quickly as possible and she just didn’t need Sweet Mary
faffing about with a face like a wet sponge.
As yet she had no idea where they were going, but she knew
this yatch was probably the fastest thing in the solar system and could outrun
anything the Federation sent after them, so they could pretty much pick and
choose their destination. She had a hankering for Taurus Xanthus. There were at
least three habitable planets there – way beyond Federation controlled space –
where they could start a new life. She just felt a bit sorry for Rose though.
This couldn’t be easy for her, conservative lady used to genteel surroundings,
being torn away from her family and social setting. There was no possibility of
dropping her off in a safe harbour either. They didn’t have that kind of time
in hand. She was just going to have to come with them.
“Okay Rose. I’m going to speak to control now. But I am
going to need to threaten you on camera so they’ll let us go. I won’t hurt you.
I can promise you that. But they’re going to need to believe that I would.”
“I understand.”
“It has to be you I’m afraid. It would be no good
threatening Officer Angelo. Policemen are expendable. It’s their job…getting
killed in the line of duty. But no-one’s going to fire on the ship-commander’s
mother.”
She gently crooked her left arm around Rose’s neck from
behind and keyed open the live video feed. Then she put her plasma pistol against
Rose’s temple.
“Hello control. You got a situation here.” The two women
stared into the camera waiting for control to acknowledge. “I would like you to
initiate undocking procedures immediately or I will blow her brains out.”
N
The party was in full swing, the General in full bling and
blinding with all his medals flashing as he sailed across the dance floor steering
his wife as if she was a battle cruiser. The younger officers were also busy at
it, their lady wives swirling and smiling and turning their powdered profiles
to best advantage. The men made the dance look as dignified as a parade ground
manoeuvre, but the drunker they got, the more decorously they tried to hold
themselves; and the more they tried to feign sobriety, the more obvious it became
that they were all getting a bit tipsy.
At last the music ended and the General came to a puffing
halt at the edge of the dance floor, a fine sheen of sweat on his face. That
was the problem of being an armchair general. Too many signatures to sign, too
many soirées and parties to go to and not enough action. He was just reaching
for his fourth glass of champagne when an Aide tapped him on the shoulder and
leaned over to whisper in his ear. The Generals expression deepened and
darkened to a furious red during the transmission of this message, his happy
mood evaporating like champagne on a hotplate. In one majestic movement he
brushed the Aide aside and swept out of the room.
Everyone noticed. But no-one knew what to do about it so
they all pretended to ignore it and carry on having fun, but the heart had gone
out of the party. Something was wrong. Commander Darck and his newly betrothed
wound down like a couple of dancing dolls out of batteries and stood staring at
the door where the General had exited. Soon everyone had stopped dancing and
drinking and were glancing surreptitiously at Commander Darck as the next in
line of command, waiting for him to do something.
Coming to a quick decision, Thedeus gave his wife a chaste
peck on the forehead and marched off in search of his master. Out in the
corridor he turned left and headed for the mission control room. If anything
was wrong they’d know about it there.
BE SURE NOT TO MISS THE NEXT EXCITING INSTALLMENT!
