Звезда Пандоры

“Ohshit.” Oscar walked slowly over to the center of the stage, where the main lights were focused. He cleared his throat. “Kids today, huh?” He’d never known a silence so deep, so unbroken. “Look. Okay. I’m sorry Dr. Bose feels the way he does. Had we stayed at the Watchtower, we would have died. It’s that simple. The Primes were firing nuclear missiles at us. You can’t hang around philosophizing in circumstances like that.”

At the front of the audience, Alessandra Baron stood up. “Captain Monroe, the Second Chance had FTL capacity. The Primes did not. So why didn’t you circle back and make a final pass to see what had happened to your crewmates?”

“Our primary mission was to report our findings back to the Commonwealth. Everybody on board knew that, Dr. Bose included. We all accepted the risks.”

“But didn’t your actions increase the risk factor in this case? One check wouldn’t have endangered anybody on board. Didn’t you care about your crewmates?”

“They screwed up,” Oscar snapped back, angry at the allegation. He remembered only too well what it had been like on board at the time. Now this moron prima diva was questioning their decisions from the safety of time and distance. “Or at least Bose did. He wasn’t properly trained to join the exploratory team. Nobody wanted the old idiot on board in the first place.”

This time the silence that opened up was even deeper. Then a thousand questions were shouted at once.

Antonia’s arm came protectively around Oscar’s shoulder. “Thank you for your time, ladies and gentlemen,” she bawled through the PA at full volume. “Drinks and canapés are now served in the lounge. Enjoy.” She physically hauled Oscar off the stage in something approaching a wrestling lock. He got one glimpse of Baron’s diabolically victorious smile before they reached the wings.

Vice President Bicklu’s white skin had turned puce. “Why didn’t anyone brief me this was hostile?” he was shouting at his aides. He caught sight of Oscar. “You! What the hell was that?”

“Later,” Antonia sang out cheerfully, still pushing Oscar along. They reached one of the hotel’s service corridors and came to a halt.

Oscar put a hand on his forehead. It was hot and sweating. His headache was back again, big time. When he pulled his hand away, he half expected the dampness he’d felt to be blood. “OhmyGod, did I really say that?”

“Yep,” Antonia said, she sounded inordinately pleased. “And it was about time somebody did.”

“Oh, God. I think I just blew the Defender captaincy.”

“Don’t be so stupid. Come on. This is a hotel; there’s got to be a bar somewhere. I’ll buy you a hair of the dog, you need it.”

Dudley ignored everyone: the government officials, hotel staff, even the nurse from the clinic. As soon as he left the stage he ran, blundering through the maze of corridors until he came to a big deserted kitchen. Only then did he stop and draw a very shaky breath. He pressed his head on the side of a big refrigeration cabinet, enjoying the feel of the cool stainless-steel surface against his skin. His heart was pounding and his hands shaking. It wasn’t entirely due to running.

“I did it,” he whispered, and smiled to himself. Told them what he thought in front of every reporter who counted in the Commonwealth—and the Vice President. Just the thought sent another tremble along his limbs.

Somebody started clapping in a slow almost derisory fashion.

Dudley straightened up. He almost expected it to be the Vice President’s bodyguards coming at him with ion pistols blazing.

Instead it was a beautiful young girl with wavy golden hair that came down over her shoulders. She was wearing a scoop-necked top of some rust-pink gauze with a silver leaf pattern, and a pair of clinging faded blue jeans that had a small silver M on one of the belt loops. There was a lopsided approving grin on her lips as she approached. She had very white teeth, Dudley noticed—that and the top was translucent. His face began to redden.

“That took a lot of courage to say what you did,” she said. “I respect that.”

“Thank you.” It didn’t quite come out as a stutter. He knew he was staring, and just couldn’t help himself. She was more than attractive, her body had this healthiness about it that was intoxicating. His own body was getting uncontrollably hot. He hadn’t managed to have sex yet, not in this body. Just a whole load of lonely nights spent masturbating since he’d been physically able, which wasn’t long. Memories of women he’d been with kept flashing up through his mind, as well as all the ones he’d never had the guts to ask. His old self would never ask a girl like this for a date, he knew.

“It must have been awful for you to realize what they did,” she said. “Coming to terms with how they betrayed you.”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

“Without you none of this would be possible, none of the starships they’ve built. The important new positions your ex-shipmates have carved for themselves.”