Anchor Station
9.FEB.2283

TANIA KEPT HER gaze on the floor. She pulled down a baseball cap she’d borrowed to hide her face. Surprise would be lost if anyone recognized her too quickly.

Two guards manned the security desk. They hunched over a well-worn board game and paid little attention as the cleaners arrived. Routine behavior, their reaction said. Both were lightly armed, with handheld toxin-based immobilizers and standard batons. Both were out of shape.

“Your weapons please,” said one of the cleaners. Another opened a canvas bag and held it out to them. “Slowly.”

The two guards looked up from their game, bewildered. From the back of the group, Tania observed unnoticed. The guards focused completely on the weapons now pointed at them. After a brief exchange of glances, they placed their weapons in the offered bag and slumped back, waiting.

“Show me the duty roster,” the leader said.

One of the guards cautiously picked up a clipboard from the desk and handed it over.

The cleaner did not so much as glance at it. Instead he passed it over his shoulder to another in the group. His attention never left the two confused sentries. “Access cards.”

The men hesitated, if only for an instant, before producing their key cards. These, and the clipboard, made their way back to Tania. She glanced at them and flashed a quick nod at the leader of their mutinous party. She realized she had forgotten his name.

The guards waited, confused.

“Where are your quarters?” the leader asked.

One of the guards said, “Green fifteen.”

“Green seventeen,” said the other.

“Lead the way.” Four of the supposed janitors followed as the two guards stood and shuffled toward their rooms. The other cleaners took positions around the security desk, pretending to do their jobs.

Time for Tania to play her part. Without a word, she turned and ran along the upward-curving hallway. After a few hundred meters she came upon another large cleaning crew milling about the door to the main computer lab, which had been propped open with a black plastic bucket.

Tania acknowledged them with a flashed thumbs-up and moved through the open door without breaking stride.

Inside the lab, she took a sharp right and angled toward a pair of double doors marked SECURITY PERSONNEL ONLY.

Karl waited there. She showed him the keys, flashing a smile, hoping it conveyed confidence. In truth, she felt nothing but dread at what they were doing.

“Good work,” Karl said. “Any problems?”

“They cooperated. I didn’t have to talk to them.”

A loud clack emanated from the lock as she swiped the card through the reader.

“No one enters,” Karl said to the crew at the main door. Then he led Tania inside the Anchor Station security control room.

She went immediately to a panel of monitors, swiped the card again, and tapped the screen until they were looking at Red Level. The cargo dock.

Karl stood next to her, and together they watched the second phase of their plan unfold.

On the screen, a maintenance crew mingled with four security guards. Tania replayed their planned story in her mind. The workers would tell the guards on duty that they were being punished for a well-intentioned but poorly executed prank against their boss. Their penalty: perform a full inspection of all climbers in dock, and check all the airlock doors for leakage. The guards laughed and waved them in.

Play on the universal disdain for bureaucrats, Karl had said.

Brilliant, Tania thought.

Fully inside the docking area, the disguised workers floated into positions around the laughing guards. Red Level duty was considered a “short straw” security post, unlike the two slackers Tania’s group had encountered. These guards would be younger and prone to fight back. Karl’s words, and right again.

A melee erupted on the screen; a clumsy battle in the weightless environment. One guard had the sense to turn and push himself, flying toward an alarm panel ten meters away. No one gave chase.

The guard reached the lever and pulled it. And pulled it again.

“So predictable,” Karl said, tapping away on the adjacent monitor.

Tania watched as the man turned back to the fight. The other guards were clearly losing. And now three workers fanned out to take on this last. Tania held her breath. Weapons were drawn, and the idea of more bloodshed on the station terrified her.

Thinking better of his choice, the remaining guard let go of his weapon and raised his hands. The gun drifted away, and Tania breathed a sigh of relief.

Within a minute the guards were bound and gagged. According to the plan they would be locked in one of the offices on Purple Level, pending further instructions.

“It’s time, Miss Sharma,” Karl said.

Tania hesitated. “Can’t you do it?”

Karl gave her a gentle pat on the arm. “I clean toilets,” he said, “as far as these people know. A voice of authority is critical now. A familiar voice.”

She nodded. He was right, but it did not make this easier. “This is all happening so fast,” she said, watching the guards on the monitor get escorted offscreen.

“Neil has a plan,” Karl replied. “We’ve got to trust it.”

Tania wondered if Neil had really thought all this through. More than anything, she wanted to speak with him. No, she thought. More than anything she wanted to get back to her research and have no further part in activities like this.

Instead she would have to speak to the entire station. With trepidation, she picked up the microphone.

“Attention please. This is Dr. Tania Sharma. Due to an increasingly dire rift that has formed within the Orbital Council, I’ve been asked by Neil Platz to take control of the security situation on Anchor. Be assured I take no pleasure in this act. However, after a violent and unprovoked attack on Platz Station yesterday, I felt action was necessary to ensure the safety of everyone here. I have Neil’s full blessings in this matter.

“Security personnel have been temporarily relieved of duty, due to their association with Alex Warthen, who ordered the attack on Platz Station.”

“When the differences within the council are resolved, the situation will return to normal. Until then, Neil has appointed me director of Anchor Station. I ask that you go about your normal duties. The station is supplied with ample food, water, and air.

“It saddens me to inform you that external communications have been temporarily suspended. I know many of you have family elsewhere in orbit. I promise you this will be reversed as soon as this crisis is resolved.

“I’ve called a meeting at ten this morning with all department heads so I can answer questions and explain the situation in greater detail. Please direct your concerns to them. Thank you for listening.”

Tania turned off the microphone and buried her head in her hands.

“You did fine,” Karl said.

“It won’t matter,” Tania said through her hands, “if Neil doesn’t resolve this soon.”

The important part done, Karl set to doling out specific orders to the rest of his group. “I need to think,” Tania said, and wandered to the back of the lab.

Alone, she slipped into the research room and logged in. The high-resolution image from the telescope’s nightly scan awaited her. She took one more glance at the door and then filled the bank of screens with the picture.

The Builders’ ship sat in the center, a dark mass against the blackness of space. She enlarged that portion and studied the telltale oblong shape. Because of the dark material there still wasn’t enough detail to discern any purpose, but she could just make out what looked like a shield covering the nose of the vessel.

Tania walked around the desk to stand directly in front of the screen. She traced a finger along the vessel’s length, looking for any other differences, and found none.

She stepped back and took in the whole scene. A few small discolorations caught her eye. On the left monitor, near the top corner, a tiny gray blob could just be seen. Another sat near the center. She studied the monitor on the right and found another.

“Multiple ships?” she whispered.

Concerned, Tania moved back to the console and set up Natalie’s program again, flipping the image through the entire sequence captured by the telescope. Only three images had been captured, but when they were shown in sequence Tania could see the tiny blobs moving in loose formation with the new Builder ship, which dwarfed them in size. Even with just three pictures to study, Tania realized the small objects were breaking away from the craft.

She counted five in all, and what purpose they served she couldn’t begin to imagine.