Edward Stevenson sat enfolded in the luxurious leather seat as he was propelled over the jumbled mass of roofs and streets. On his right side the forest of Berlin skyscrapers flashed by at worryingly excessive speeds. He had no real cause for worry, of course, despite the occasional moment of angst when he looked out of the window and over the edge. The sometimes thirty metre high Himmelbahns had all the latest gizmos to stop vehicles flying over the edge. A tragedy like the one in San Francisco twelve years ago could never happen again.
That particular piece of carnage, which killed one hundred and seventy two innocent souls, had been the final motivation to the auto manufacturers and the world's governments to do what should have been done in the first place: make the super highways safe.
It was a sad aspect of human nature since the very beginning of history, he reflected, that it was often tragedy, namely the loss of life, that caused people to put right what had always been waiting to be put right: to finally do those things necessary to prevent disaster. Despite the fact that it was always too late for someone.
He was reflecting again. And his reflections were always morbid, sad or defeatist. Was it a sign of getting old? Did everyone do this as they edged slowly through life, or was it just him? More than likely just him. More than likely he was coming to a point where a decision would have to be made which would change his life.
He rolled his head back and stretched his neck, turning his thoughts away from the speed they were travelling at. It had to be below the regulated maximum anyway. Besides anything else Edward had every confidence in his chauffeur. Karl had been ferrying him backwards and forwards across Europe since he had received the post of Vice President fourteen years ago. Jesus, was it really that long?
He pulled the courtesy mirror toward him and checked the worn contours of his face. Fifty-eight next year, and by God he looked every inch of it. His hair now completely grey had also begun to recede. Begun to recede? Who was he kidding? Begun to finish receding was a more accurate statement.
He ran his fingers through the thin strands, pushing it into place. His once handsome features scarred by worry lines and marked with deep furrows from carrying a permanent frown.
A permanently etched frown, he thought to himself, repeating the words in his head. They didn't include that amongst the many paragraphs in his contract. Was it a hazard of the job? Was it a risk that you took along with all the other risks that you hoped to avoid? Or was it obligatory? Like the office, the secretary and the title? Not that he had ever read his indecipherable contract. Questions, questions and more questions. Altogether too many.
There had been a day, on the fringes of his memory, when he had never asked such questions. Had never worried. A time when he had left his work in his office. Like containing a wild animal within the confines of its cage at the zoo, there was a time when his work life was safely restricted to his imitation oak office. But at some point he had let the animal out to roam free. And now nowhere was safe.
It would pounce on him at unexpected times. In the shower in the morning, or at the dinner table, or watching the vid screens in an evening. Mauling him relentlessly.
Maggie had been nagging him again to look at retirement. That life altering decision that was constantly drifting into and out of his thoughts was one she wanted him to make sooner rather than later. He'd done enough to deserve it, by God. There was no question about that. But it was difficult to let go.
He'd been with the Department of Colonisation at the time of its formation eighteen years ago and when it had been given Premier status he had been made the first Vice President. At such a young age, too.
It had been an honour. It had made the news headlines the world over. Maggie was so proud. He could remember clearly the look on her face, in her eyes. But it had been hard work too, and the cost was plain to see on his face, and unfortunately in his marriage.
They had lost a lot of time that should have been spent together. Stolen by the Department. Maggie was a little gem. She had supported him through so much. Always ready to give. It was only fair that he listen to her pleas and consider letting it go. He would have to one day anyway. Perhaps there was still chance to recover some of those lost moments.
He stretched his neck again, rubbing the palm of his hand firmly against the top of his spine, and then straightened his tie before reclining back in the cream comfort of the Lincoln's finest upholstery. He reflected back over those first years: the golden years.
The idea of combining the various projects in itself had seemed the perfect solution to the vast expenditure individual nations such as the United States, China and Korea had been pouring into the off-world ventures.
None of them could truly afford what they were doing. None would admit to the fact. And none would let up in case they lost ground and missed out. Especially with the massive progress the European Federation was making at the time. In fact that had probably been the overriding factor which eventually brought the distrusted idea into the forefront of actual possibility.
It still hadn't happened. Not properly. But with the success of the Unified Government, and the beginnings of genuine world cooperation for the first time in history, it had been the logical thing to do to combine all the projects into one global effort.
The idea became a plan. The plan became a proposition. And finally when the European Federation announced it was considering combining its efforts with those of the Koreans the proposition became a reality.
If it hadn't been for the initiatives of the E.F. then none of the other governments would have gone along with it. But the threat of the strength of an E.F.-Korean consortium and the advantages that would give them was the spark to light the fire.
There was not one single abstention. Many of the governments were unsure, many openly voiced objections and he'd thought for sure that the Chinese, along with several others, would never go for it. But they all did. Unbelievably, thought Edward. Absolutely unbelievably. Perhaps that would go down in history as the first real act of global cooperation by the Unified Government, he mused cynically.
From unsure beginnings the Department of Colonisation became stronger and stronger as each nation in turn backed it fully, still seemingly afraid that they would be left behind: that there would be a two or three tier level of priority and involvement. Governments and politicians were as yet unused to the orchestrations of unity, of equality with their big brothers, and in turn the big brothers were not wanting to let go of their status, not knowing how to: still trying to lead the way.
It all helped to make the Department bigger, stronger and more and more powerful. And with such rapidity it was breath taking. Those were the heady, exhilarating days. Since then the D.o.Col. had become just another political pawn in the Unified Government's giant game.
It was the politics that wore Edward down more than anything. It had never been his intention to become a politician. It wasn't what he was good at. Maggie said it was because he had a conscience, but he knew that he was simply out of his depth when the game was being played by the experts.
Why he had never expected to become entangled in politics he'd never know. He struggled to see himself as being so naïve. But naïve he must have been. There was no other word for it. As influential as the Department had once been, it had become an issue equally as sensitive: crucial to the continued unity of the government in so many subtle and delicate ways.
Karl pulled the Lincoln off the Himmelbahn and they started the spiral descent. The giant mirrored glass UG European offices filled the view from the front windscreen and pretty soon blocked out the morning sunlight. Edward took a deep breath and turned his thoughts away from the past.
Whether they were good thoughts, or more likely as not morose thoughts, it didn't matter. He needed his head clear. It was always easy to regress into the past when the future looked tough. And this was going to be one hell of a tough day.

His feet paused briefly on the plush navy carpet outside the imposing oak door. Edward knocked and seemingly waited for the muffled "come" before turning the brass door knob and striding through. His body movement never actually stopped. It sort of semi-paused in a still fluid action which could probably not have been stopped half way through even if Edward had wanted to. It was all a matter of formal nicety. He had long since passed the stage of needing to knock, but old habits from old firms and older bosses died hard.
"Ah Teddy, good morning! Ready for the mind sap?" The wry grin on Dave King's face was a deceptive cover for the hours of worry and the sleepless night Edward knew he had had.
In response he pulled a face and grunted, sliding stiffly into the chair on the opposite side of the giant desk. Not that he really felt that way or would normally allow himself to converse in such a manner, but it seemed to sum up many things that he wanted to say without having to actually say them.
He kicked the wheeled chair back slightly to give himself a little more room. The main Berlin office belonging to the President of the D.o.Col. was impressive but not quite as awe-inspiring as some might presume. Yes it was large with all kinds of luxury gadgets around the place. But it was not huge. Not compared to some of the offices that he had been in belonging to the top brass of other departments. Lesser departments, added Edward a little haughtily to himself.
Edward of course knew of the several private rooms through the door on his left. He had used them himself for several days at a time on occasion. Rare occasion. And in total the complex that came under the heading of Dave's office was as good as any hotel room barring some excessive and garish Las Vegas suite. But it was perhaps wise to look conservative and frugal when you are the head of probably the most controversial department in the whole of the UG.
Dave leant forward and spoke into a small microphone located unseen in the surface of the desk. It was, naturally, perfectly capable of picking up his voice wherever he was in the room. But there are just some human traits technology can never overcome.
"Can you sort us some coffee and muffins out, Julie?"
"Already on its way," came the swift reply.
Dave leant back and raised his eyebrows, "Aren't I the dumb ass."
Edward opened up his briefcase on the edge of the desk and pulled out his portable workpad, flicking the on switch with one hand as he closed his briefcase with the other.
"I take it you haven't heard anything more from Sorensen Four."
"Have I shit," answered Dave shaking his head slowly. "I would have let you know if I had. You know that."
"Yeah, I know. It was a rhetorical question really. I just had this ridiculous hope that what is about to happen maybe won't happen."
Dave laughed, "You'll lose that optimistic streak one day, I promise you."
The door opened and Julie glided in with the breakfast trolley. She was very tolerant of Dave. After all, he had every modern contraption at his fingertips, or at worse a short couple of steps across the office. That included the facilities for coffee, tea, breakfast, or pretty much anything else. He was just too lazy to do it for himself.
She was about forty, not too old to resent doing the leg work for him, and not too young to have an attitude about being asked to do menial sexist chores. Besides that she was damn good at her job. Dave had been on the customer end of her dealings eight years ago when she was with the German Motor Company. It hadn't been that hard to lure her away.
"Thanks Julie. Wow, this looks good. I didn't get a proper breakfast this morning," he said by way of explanation looking up at Edward. "And it must be at least half an hour since I had a coffee."
Edward grunted, "I'm surprised you weren't screaming and shouting for Julie to bring you coffee if it's been a full half hour," he replied, playing along. Julie smiled silently at him as she left the room.
"Anyway, Teddy, this meeting'll be a breeze. You'll see."
"You don't have to give me your Yankee ra-ra speech. Remember I'm home-grown too."
"You've spent too much of your life in London with all that miserable bloody weather – you could do with a good ra-ra."
Edward reached across for a croissant and his steaming mug of black coffee. "I've spent too bloody long in this job. Christ, I was just going over it on the way here – fourteen years I've been doing this. Can you believe it? Fourteen years!"
"No wonder you're in a black mood if that's what you've been mulling over all morning," he said not looking up from his hot mug as he brought it gingerly to his lips.
Edward glanced at the elegant clock face built into the panelled wall on his right. 8:30, just gone. Dave had always been a crack of dawn man. When he said, "all morning" at this time it wasn't a mistake, he had generally been up and at it for hours.
"Anyway, Maggie's been at it again."
Dave pointed his finger at Edward and spoke with his mouth full of ham roll.
"Don't you leave me in it. I told you before, I go first."
"You could've gone two years ago if you'd've wanted. You love it, and don't deny it. You wouldn't know what to do with yourself if you couldn't come in here before sunrise every day. You'll need therapy before you can retire."
Dave, having shoved the rest of his roll in his mouth whilst Edward was speaking, found he was unable to reply verbally. Instead he gave him the finger.

Meeting room twenty-seven, Dave's favourite meeting room, was just as you might expect a meeting room to be. In essence, rooms like this hadn't changed in centuries. The long oval table in a dark, polished wood. Plush swivel chairs nestled on a deep pile carpet. Subtle, soft lighting intended to relax potentially agitated attendees. Yet it was light enough to read comfortably.
One side of the room was pure glass, vari-smoked of course, overlooking the modern quarter of Berlin. Even though this was not the top floor it still looked down on most of the other buildings surrounding it.
Once a great symbol of the progress of mankind it was, it seemed to Edward, looking more and more like a giant carbuncle. An eyesore that paled into insignificance beside the beautiful architecture of the older buildings in the Altstadt.
They did not wait long. Their guests at this meeting were the sort of people who would happily be late and expect others to wait patiently: saying nothing out of turn. But today they were all on time. Those that knew would not want to be late. Those that didn't were more likely too intrigued to risk missing anything.
They were shown through, at which signal both Dave and Edward stood, moving around the table to greet their visitors. There were two representing the military, Admiral Kwarm, Chief of Naval Forces East, a far eastern veteran of the Filipino wars, and his sidekick Admiral Browning. Kwarm was an imposing man despite his short stature. He was not so much fat as thick set. His face hard. His jaw clamped so tightly shut that it instigated surprise from the majority of any audience he opened his mouth to address.
Browning was less so. Though the uniform itself gave that age-old air of a respect demanded. Without it he would probably have blended into the background. A bland face carrying a bland expression, if a little disapproving in that military high-ranking sort of way. An ideal candidate for an undercover operation. Though probably not since he had obtained his high rank.
Each wore their full dress uniform, which normally included a stern and imposing look. The uniform worn better by Browning. The look by Kwarm.
Two shifty looking gents from the UGIS followed. Intelligence for the elite in power who called themselves Steve Latham and Todd Cairns. It was hard to tell but Edward guessed at British and either American or Canadian. The strong proper and clipped English accent gave Latham away immediately, and the dark suit only confirmed it somehow. And maybe Canadian for Cairns because although he appeared to be American from the way he spoke and his more extrovert and loud greeting Edward couldn't place the softer accent. He was probably wrong, though. By extrovert and loud Edward meant in comparison to Steve Latham, not to normal people. These were UGIS after all, and discretion was part of their business.
Guessing nationality was something Edward always did. It was totally out of line to categorise someone by place of birth in this day and age of unity, but he just couldn't help it. It kept him amused.
There was also a top communications engineer called Catherine Declerque, of French origin, whom Edward new well. He knew her to be in her early forties, exactly he forgot for the moment, but with a style and a chic only the French seemed to possess she knocked at least five years off that total.
She had worked with them on numerous occasions when they had developed problems with contacting the various colonies and was always happy to come to their aid when they asked. She was highly regarded, and more importantly, was trusted enough for a high security clearance.
Lastly there was Senator John Madogo. A rather portly Nigerian with wispy grey hair and a lazy left eye, accompanied by his aide Charlotte Newsome. Edward couldn't tell whence she originated. She didn't seem to have an accent of any kind, but was probably from one of the English speaking countries.
She reminded him very much of a stereotypical early twentieth century school teacher in her manner of dress and facial expression. It made her appear to be in her early forties when she was probably around thirty-two or three. Perhaps that was the idea.
Madogo was here because they knew him. He had been involved in a couple of political issues with the Department in the past: one particularly sticky. He had come through pretty much on their side. Not that that was the correct way to put it. But he had kept his head level and looked at the real issues, not just the number of votes it would give or lose him. In the end he had supported their logical arguments.
It had been a great help at the time and now that they once again needed a Senatorial representative, a supremely authoritative presence, they could think of none better. Edward hoped they had not judged wrongly.
Introductions were brief. Hands were shaken, heads nodded: most said something respectful to the Senator, particularly Todd Cairns. But otherwise it was a necessary but annoying delay to the beginning of the meeting.
In a few moments of silence broken only by the shuffling and settling of bodies and the creaking of leather they were all seated. Dave checked once around the room and seeing that all eyes were on him he began.
"Thank you all for coming, most of you at short notice. The Senator here is so far the only one amongst you who has any inkling of what this is about, and I must remind you that anything you hear today is covered by the International Security Act."
He paused for a moment and glanced at each person, as if to say, "So if you can't keep a secret leave the room now". As if anyone would. As if the majority of those seated around the table didn't already know enough secrets to blow Dave's mind into astonished insanity. It was actually a foolish thing to say and if he had considered it he may have felt a little embarrassed. Fortunately he hadn't and he didn't.
"Four weeks ago we received a report from the Sorensen Four outpost about missing persons." Dave placed his finger over a blue square in the glass panel inlaid into the table in front of him. Immediately the panels in front of each of them sprang to life with a soft orange glow.
Edward reached forward and tilted his toward him. Even though he knew exactly what was coming up it was impossible not to follow along with everybody else. His heart was beating a little faster than normal, he knew, because of the endless possibilities that lay before them. The innumerable different reactions and courses of action that could be given and taken.
"As you can see, the colony itself is one of the older ones, it's been going now nearly forty five years and supports a population of eighty one thousand two hundred and sixty five. Not huge compared to, say, the Maxin project, but still a reasonable size and age. Here at the D.o.Col., as I think most of you know, we have a rating system which takes the many different aspects of a colony and summarises them into a simple percentage.
"Without boring you with the specific details which you probably know anyway, I will just tell you that ninety is basically self sufficient and one hundred percent is independent. The rating of this particular colony is at the moment seventy four percent. So as you can see we view this colony as well developed, remarkably advanced for its size, and stable.
"All right then. Without any more spiel from me we'll move on to the reason we're all here. The report we received on the fourth of May."
Dave turned his attention to the screen in front of him and ran his hands over the panel again. The display changed to a frozen portrait of a young man, no more than twenty-eight or nine, in a police uniform. His short hair slicked back neatly and his large brown eyes nervously staring just off centre to where his report would be scrolling. His youth and perhaps inexperience having given him cause to ensure his report was prewritten. His confidence in his own ability not yet developed to the point of sitting in front of a camera and merely saying what he needed to say.
As Edward studied the fresh face, knowing what was to come later, he considered what the next few days would bring for him. What events would bring him that experience, that perspective on what was, and what was not, important in life.
"Listen if you will, please," said Dave dramatically and the officer came to life.
"Police Inspector Hamilton, the Sorensen Four Police Department, eleventh of April eighty-two.
"In the past month we have had an alarming increase in the number of missing persons filed here. So much so that I feel it necessary to file this report to you for your appraisal.
"In total over the four Earth week period eight people have gone missing. Now I know that may not sound like that many to you, dealing with such places as New York, Cairo, and the like. But please bear in mind one or two facts.
"Firstly those eight people represent almost point zero one of a percent of the total population. Not only that but in the past ten years only six people in total have been registered as missing. In each of those previous instances the cases were in circumstances where death was a known and accepted danger and recovery of a body not a guaranteed certainty.
"For example, the last one of those six occurred last year. One of the solar engineers went missing on location at the generator on the far side. I have enclosed the case records, which contain the specific details if you require. The case number is SOR4MP35.
"The cases over the past month in comparison consequently show a huge increase in trend. Naturally with this transmission I am sending you all the case details, but also I am sending those from the last ten years for ease of comparison.
"If you study them carefully you will notice that there are several distinct differences. The previous six cases were almost all working in a solo situation, or they were away from their colleagues for some time. I would appreciate that you also cross reference with similar case reports from other colonies. Reports that I unfortunately do not have access to.
"This pattern then changes when you consider the latest, recent cases. Case SOR4MP46 for example shows an instance where, although working solo, this person was in continuous contact with the main complex by voice-comm, a necessity to complete the particular task being undertaken. Unfortunately the conversation was not recorded but the witness reports state that it was cut off mid-sentence.
"Also take case SOR4MP49, where two persons working together in a non-hazardous location went missing, leaving their vehicle and tools behind. Their effects and tools were orderly laid out across the ground as if they had been interrupted mid-way through their activities.
"In none of these cases has there been any sign of struggle or indication of violence. We have no physical evidence what so ever. It is as if these people simply vanished into thin air. We have no theories on any of these cases. Bear in mind, if you will, the geography and climate we have. There is nowhere to go out here. Missing for any period of time usually means dead.
"The immediate response has been a tightening of security throughout the colony and a complete ban on working solo. Also I have had agreement from the Council that we can increase the police force to above the set budget limits, which I am in the process of organising.
"I am filing this report in the hope that there is a precedent on another colony. Any help or advice would be much appreciated. Other than that I shall naturally continue to keep you updated on any further developments.
"Report complete. Encryption coding at priority level one."
The screen went dark, and the room fell to silence.
"Presumably there is more," said the UGIS man, Todd Cairns, impatiently. Of course there was more. A gathering such as this was not called for a regular, if a little alarming, missing persons problem on a far off colony.
Dave raised a finger, "Oh yes, much more. But before we go on I just want you to take a look at this. It is a graph of the occurrences of missing persons against time. Something our young Police Inspector omitted to tell us, or didn't realise himself at that time. You will see an increase: one in the first week, two in the second and third, three in the fourth."
He paused for a few seconds allowing everyone to absorb the implications of the graph. It was not important that they studied it in detail. Merely that they understood the simple fact that the occurrences were becoming more frequent. They would return to the same graph shortly.
"A week later we received his next report, this time slightly less verbose. A little less prepared and a little more to the point."
Again the screen flickered to life revealing the same smartly turned out young man. Only this time there was a difference about him. His eyes before had portrayed nervousness, and although the same was true this time it was a different form of anxiety. Previously he had been a young naïve officer making a rare and daunting report back to his superiors on Earth, including unnecessary detail and waffle. This time the self-consciousness was gone.
Certainly it was often a problem to recruit experienced professionals from their settled life on Earth, or even from more established colonies. Edward didn't mean to put the young man down. The colonies were founded on the young and the adventurous. There was nothing wrong with his earlier report.
It was the difference between the first and second report that Edward found startling. A subtle, at first unnoticeable difference, which once seen shouted out of the screen. It was in his eyes. The anxiety arose no longer from the concern of giving a report, but from the subject matter itself.
"Police Inspector Hamilton, Sorensen Four Police Department, seventeenth of April eighty-two.
"Further to my last report of six days ago I am transmitting to you the case files of a further seventeen missing persons.
"We are still unable to determine the cause of these disappearances and request assistance from Earth immediately. Tensions are high within the colony. The police force is continuing to be expanded and the colonists are currently being organised into self-protection groups. We do not know if this is a natural phenomenon, a crime wave, or something else entirely.
"Please study the cases I have sent you and advise as soon as possible.
"Report complete. Encryption coding at priority level one."
Again the screens went dark. Dave leant forward and brought up the graph they had been studying a moment ago.
"If we add these figures to the graph we have what basically amounts to an exponential curve. There was also a report sent at this time from the Council on Sorensen Four but I won't play it. It is full of long-winded official speak. In essence it says nothing different than our very short and concise summary from Hamilton.
"Studying the seventeen reports shows up a variety of unusual characteristics about these disappearances, as you can see by flicking through the prepared statistics on the following pages.
"Note that these are not cases of people wandering off into the unknown because of some sickness of the mind. These are people disappearing from right under the noses of colleagues they work with or people they live with. There is never any sign of a struggle, and there is no specific type of person, age, sex, colour, whatever.
"I have decided not to go through individual cases with you. Please trust me when I tell you that they give no clues. In case after case a person simply vanishes. Surroundings are not altered and give no appearance of a struggle.
"The person's personal effects are usually in the locale, although on one occasion an entire vehicle disappeared. There is nothing unusual about the scene of the disappearance except for the fact that they are usual. Normal."
"I'll take that as read for now," interrupted Todd Cairns, so far the only other vocal member of the group, "But I would like to know what the effective ability of the resident Police Force is. Perhaps there are plenty of clues but they just haven't seen them."
Dave nodded, "Granted, there is that possibility which also raised itself to my mind. Recruiting experienced personnel can sometimes be a problem. However, money for equipment never has been, and I can assure you that the Sorensen Four authorities have all the very latest equipment. The reports contain readouts from this hardware. I am satisfied that inefficiency is not the problem here."
"But there are no experienced high rankers up there," persisted Cairns.
"No. And I take on board what you're saying. I think that has to be considered. But if we can just note that and I'll continue?"
Cairns nodded his head and relaxed back into his seat, silent once more.
"It is hard to believe," continued Dave from where he left off, "that it is a natural occurrence because of the previous stability of the planet. Admittedly that is something that can possibly change, but there is also a complete lack of any other reading, seismic, radioactive, or anything else.
"Naturally all these case reports will be made available to you for you to study them at your leisure. And I do recommend that you do. But for the moment please take my word for it – these are not ordinary disappearances.
"It is also hard to believe it is some kind of psychopath because, frankly, a close look at the cases will show you how impossible that would be. Especially from the examinations of the scenes, all of which are outside on a planet which is at the very least inhospitable."
"So what are you suggesting, Mr. King," asked Charlotte Newsome in a typically reproachful school teacher kind of way, "aliens?"
Dave gave her one of his don't get smart with me looks, and carried on regardless.
"Two days after we received that report we lost all communications with Sorensen Four for eighteen days. This is something that just doesn't happen. Catherine, I've invited you here because you are one of our leading comms experts. Why would we lose them for so long?"
Dave of course had been through all this with Edward, he knew the answers. Catherine was here as the resident expert for the benefit of the others. His question, though it was not, sounded staged.
"Well, I don't know really. There should be no reason in itself and it makes no sense unless it is coupled with some other major catastrophe. There is a complete second communication network, transmitter, everything. If there was a serious problem with the main system then they need only take the second system out of storage and take it to a suitable site. Set up and power should take no more than two days."
"Would you clarify what you mean by catastrophe?" asked Todd Cairns.
"Such as something that they, the colonists, would be too preoccupied with. A volcano, meteorite, nuclear explosion, earthquake and so on."
Kwarm turned to her and punched out his question with staccato formality, "What if there was an earthquake which took out the existing comms and even those in storage?"
"Well yes, of course it is possible, but that would be one hell of a quake. All stations are supposed to be quakeproof. For both sets to be taken out by the same natural occurrence would probably also destroy the main complex if not the whole colony.
"Also, the original communication system would have to be out of action before the quake started because otherwise it would have automatically transmitted the seismic activity as part of its normal operation. That would have been the last transmission we would have received."
"And it wasn't," concluded Dave, trying to keep things concise. "So, Catherine, let us try to imagine. The comms go down. Is that a normal or regular occurrence?"
"Well, it isn't abnormal. It happens. The station carries all the necessary parts to repair any minor fault. Not a problem. If it is a major fault, and we have only ever had one, then as I say, the secondary unit is designed for set up in less than two days."
"And these communication transmitters. Where are they sited?"
"They are sited on the best possible location for a good clear transmission. Far enough from the main complex so that the two would not normally suffer from the same natural disaster. But not too far away that it cannot easily be reached and repaired."
"But always away from the main complex?" asked Dave, wanting to clarify the point.
"Yes. For clarity reasons also. On Sorensen Four about seven kilometres, that's all."
"So," Dave pressed ahead addressing the whole table, "what we have here is a downed transmitter, which is almost certainly not from any natural occurrence. The colonists then are choosing not to repair or replace it. Possibly because to do so would mean leaving the main complex. We can't know exactly why the comms have gone down at this point but that is not the important factor. We do receive a further report but the reasons for the comms not being repaired are not mentioned. The really important thing here is that they didn't repair them."
Dave paused allowing that point to register. "At least not straight away. Eventually they did re-establish communications and we received, as I said, a further report."
The screens flickered to life again. Hamilton's face reappeared, his hair unkempt, his face haggard beyond his years. His uniform was unbuttoned and there was a small tear on the left shoulder. The change in his appearance was incredible considering the few days it had taken to happen.
"Police Inspector Hamilton, Sorensen Four, the seventh of May eighty-two.
"Have re-established communication network at last."
It was obvious that he was no longer reading from a prewritten report. His eyes stared directly out from the screen in front of Edward, as if he could reach out and physically grasp salvation from them.
"We lost the team that went out to do it. We lose anyone that goes outside now. I've stopped filing reports on the missing. I have no time for paperwork.
"The polar testing station lost contact with us a week ago, followed by the two mining installations and the veyor team. There's just us now in the main complex.
"We've secured ourselves in but I don't know if it'll be enough. We don't have weapons to defend ourselves with, and I don't know what use they would be anyway.
"I spend most of my time keeping the peace here. We've had two riots, the worst when they stormed the Council.
"For God's sake send help. Send the army. We need help and we need it now. The situation here is desperate and I don't have the resources to contain it. We're under attack but we don't know who from or how to hit back.
"The people here are losing hope, and when that happens they go mad. We need the armed forces in numbers as soon as they can get here.
"I hope you're not too late.
"Report complete."
For the final time Hamilton's face faded from view. Dave eased himself backwards.
"That was received by us two days ago. They've received nothing from us because two hours after that brief plea their comms went down again."
There was a brief silence before Todd Cairns spoke again.
"In the eighteen days without contact, what did you do about the situation?"
"Well, we diverted a ship into orbit to try and contact them. It was simply a passing ore transport that was conveniently in the neighbourhood. Nothing fancy, no elite forces or anything. But we wanted to know what was going on from an external source if nothing else.
"The crew sat their ship in orbit and then all but the co-pilot put down in a shuttle. The co-pilot lost contact with them shortly after. He's on his way back to Earth right now.
"The timing was such that they put down one day after we received the third report from Hamilton. It was then that I informed the Senator."
"OK," said Cairns thoughtfully, "So now you've told us the basic facts of the story, what few there are, but we've all only just heard it. You've been there through the whole thing. You must have a few theories."
Dave shrugged. "Yes. I have a theory or two, of course I do, but none of them add up. I've, of course, been through the different possibilities time and again. The most plausible one is terrorist action. Or some kind of plot to discredit the colony projects. But either way it doesn't make too much sense.
"If it's terrorists then why all the messing around?" Dave asked, refuting his own theory. "Terrorists like to hit something big and hit it hard. Shock the world; announce who they are and why they did it. It's something we've always been worried about. But this doesn't fit the profile.
"A plot – a little more plausible, but still it seems the long way round. There isn't any clear cut objective or obvious consequence that tell us the motive. A contrived accident killing hundreds in deep space is what we've been dreading for so long, and would probably be easier to arrange."
Todd nodded. "Do you think this Hamilton is involved?"
"Quite possibly, though there's nothing in his records to suggest he might be that way inclined."
Kwarm leant forward, his hands clasped one over the other before him, resting flat on the table surface.
"Am I to believe you are wanting me to authorise the use of the Space Corps?"
"Ah, my dear Admiral," boomed the deep voice of Senator Madogo in his thick African dialect for the first time, "There you cross the line from history to future. And I believe you jump there a little ahead of our host's schedule. But yes, we must now decide what to do about the situation. First, however, let me outline the political framework we have to work within.
"We all know how controversial the colony projects have become, mainly due to their extreme cost, but also it is a pride issue. More importantly a votes issue. The governments who originally ran their individual projects now bicker over who has contributed most. Which bit belongs to which country. As if it could ever be separated now it is all in the hands of the UG and run as a joint venture.
"Those governments who were glad in the first instance to be handed a free entry into the race for colonies now backtrack on their original commitments. The rest merely complain about the ever mounting costs, saying they never wanted a part of it anyway.
"But I simplify and speak to those who know and understand. I dare say better than myself on occasion. We are all knowledgeable to some degree or other in this. It's in the news every day. I think only the Space Corps is more controversial these days."
Madogo coughed, as if his throat could not deal with his deep powerful voice speaking continuously for any great length of time. Recovering himself he continued unabashed,
"So we can not be responsible for fuelling the fires. Let me make that completely clear. Whatever we do, we do it without antagonising an already delicate situation. We must keep this thing out of the eye of the media. Terrorism, deaths, riots, whatever is going on up there, would finish the colonies off for good, and in the process could bring down several of our most powerful governments.
"I am not about to suggest manipulation of the truth. Nor that we deal improperly. If it is the fate of the colonies that they cease: so be it. If this crisis does become the catalyst for that, then that is the way of things.
"But our actions must not be the catalyst. We here in this room have a duty to deal with this in a way that preserves the stability of the Unified Government. I do not think I can express enough how dangerous this is. We must do nothing what so ever which will be noticed until the situation becomes clearer. Do we all understand?"
There was a general air of nods and silent agreement. The Senator had been given the respectful opportunity to speak without interruption. And everyone had listened. True, most of them could have probably rendered the very same speech themselves. But it was necessary for Madogo to make the assumed knowledge vocal.
Whether those who sat around that table stood for or against the colonies was immaterial. This thing could rip apart the structure of the UG – that was how volatile the subject had become over the last few years. The preservation of the UG was something that was the duty and job of most of those present regardless of personal opinion. Only Catherine Declerque was exempt from that obligation.
"So," said Dave, "In answer to your earlier question Admiral, an official call to arms for the Space Corps is out. They go launching off and that's guaranteed to set the world alight."
"Well yes," answered Kwarm, "Obviously. I am fully aware of the effect the Space Corps have on the world's media."
"You are invited here for no specific reason. I had no preset agenda. You are the voice of the military in any decision we would make," said Dave in what sounded a very formal statement. But Edward understood its necessity. Kwarm had assumed a motive behind his presence and that was not true. They had invited who they believed could contribute positively to a solution. They had simply invited the navy, and Kwarm and Browning had been sent. It was important that they all kept an open perspective.
"So can I ask," interjected Cairns, "why the police are not represented? You have the armed forces, the intelligence service, and the political presence. But why not the police?"
"Namely because the police forces of Earth have nothing to do with the colonies. It is a separate entity. And the coordinating and controlling of colony law enforcement is done here at the D.o.Col. There is a head of that department but we felt he was not appropriate to this meeting.
"Hell, we could have a hundred different people representing all kinds of authorities. But we wanted to keep it tight. Like the Senator said. Close and controlled."
"Sure. I get that," replied Cairns apparently satisfied.
There was a moment's silence as was normal in meetings at such a juncture. One line of conversation had ceased and the meeting waited for someone to begin again, or to connect a previous strand to the next. It was Kwarm who took the previous subject and continued it as if there had been no question from Todd Cairns.
"My problem is that I can't consider involving any other military unit. That is totally out of the question. All those resources creating a Space Corps and you show it's possible to use conventional forces. No thank you. That would be even more volatile, believe me."
"Great," said Steve Latham, his first contribution of the morning, "We have a potential terrorist action on a world with no weapons or inherent self defence. We can't send the troops we have specifically trained to do the job, but we can't send any other troops either.
"And whoever we do send, as I assume we must actually send someone, will not know what the exact situation is until they get there. Which is OK because the really important thing is that they don't tell anybody else where they're going or why."
"It is reassuring to see," answered Madogo, "That we have here astute and wise people who can recognise the requirements of the situation immediately. We won't be sat here long after all." His reply had been spoken in the same ironic, almost humorous, vein as Latham's statement. But both were totally serious in content.
"Let's just stop there a moment," said Dave controlling the meeting well so far, "Steve, you just said that you assume we must send someone. Is that something that we all feel is the right thing to do?"
Admiral Browning rumbled to life, "I can't see any other option. Military doctrine would demand a reconnaissance. Making a decision before knowing the situation and conditions would be foolish, or even irresponsible."
"What about sending the Space Corps on a training mission in the vicinity?" asked Dave. He and Edward had previously discussed this option believing it was the best. He was surprised that Dave was playing the card so early.
"I mean, I assume they must have space training from time to time."
"Of course," answered Kwarm, "But at the moment every movement is closely watched by the media. During training missions troops are outnumbered two to one by reporters. And that's the way the top brass want it right now. The Space Corps are on a huge P.R. exercise.
"And before you ask if we can't siphon a few off the answer is no. The risk would be too great. It would be a logistical and bureaucratic nightmare. We would have no chance to keep it secret."
"There are other options," added Dave, "Message relays, automatic search and scan probes, evacuation even."
"All of which would add to the evidence put before us," agreed Browning, "which at the moment is scant. But a complete evaluation by a scout would be invaluable in these circumstances."
"Nothing beats a man on the ground. Even in this day of high tech toys," summarised Todd Cairns.
Dave shrugged and opened his hands in acceptance. By doing so he was trying to say that it was only a suggestion put forward as a choice, not necessarily his. He was prompting them to explore all the possibilities. Especially as his preferred choice had been casually but firmly rejected.
"All right," said Cairns, "What about an undercover UGIS squad. They pose as regular crew and get up there: check the situation out. They're trained, capable, and fully experienced in keeping everything quiet."
"That offers the same risks as sending troops out," countered Browning, "If the media hear of the UGIS in space that really will make a bang."
"They won't get to find out. Undercover agents posing as crew members. Regular and straightforward. Nobody will question it."
Edward shifted uneasily in his chair. His turn. He had been quiet for long enough.
"I'm not so sure. The crew of the ships that travel the colonies are a tight knit bunch. There aren't that many of them and they know each other pretty well. Same for the ground crews who would normally prepare the ship. When rookie personnel come in they never let more than one on a ship at a time. So they wouldn't be able to pose, impersonate. It would have to be a secret launch to avoid any questions at all. If we can manage that then we can use the Space Corps."
"I'm sure we can deal with those details. A ship is made ready for a regular trip. At the last minute the crew is changed. Or perhaps the crew go aboard one night when nobody's around. We can set these sorts of things up. It's what we do best."
"OK, maybe. But even if we get past those details, as you call them, do you have a crew? I can't think that you do. How long will it take to train your guys up to pilot a ship?" asked Edward. The idea of a secret UGIS crew in space gave him a cold shiver.
"Well OK," said Cairns, "Let's start with this: how many people do we want to send out? Do we want a ship full armed to the teeth? Because if we do, I'm sorry but it has to be the Space Corps. We can't get around that.
"If we're talking recon party as the good Admiral here suggests, which I think we have to be, then we can manage with a crew sized party. In which case we have to decide who they're going to be and how we're getting them there."
"I think," said Madogo, "We're talking about a small reconnoitre at this point. If this is less than we are building it up to be then we are all going to look very foolish when soldiers start leaping around, brandishing high-tech laser rifles. It won't just be the heads of state that they string up."
"What about a team sent up to fix the communications?" said Catherine quietly, "I think it is going to have to be announced that the comms are out. Family and friends will start to wonder why there has been no contact, so will various companies that are linked with Sorensen Four. If we try to cover that up people will get suspicious."
"Good point," said Dave, "We say that there has been a breakdown and we have to send out a team of engineers to fix it. It gives us a reason for the special trip, so we can pull together people from across the board to suit our purposes. We should also be able to slip in a UGIS man.
"We can send them out on a legitimate trip. No lies – no possible slip up. Great, I like it."
"Surely," said Edward, "you're not suggesting that we keep the crew themselves in the dark."
Dave shrugged and tilted his head. Edward knew him well enough to know that he was about to say probably not. Cairns however answered.
"Sure, why not. No possible leaks at all. One of our biggest security leak risks has got to be that the crew will tell loved ones, family, close friends, where they're going and why. Best not to tell them in the first place. With our man with them he can do the recon and stop them walking blindly into danger. Pull the team out if it gets too hot, that kind of thing."
Edward shook his head. "This is a volunteer only mission. When are you going to tell them? When they land? Hey guys, you thought you were here to solder some wires but wow, look, it's a war zone."
"Look," continued Cairns, "We tell them its dangerous. Say the planets unstable or something. That's why the comms are down. Hell, for all we know that could be true."
"That way we can still make it volunteer only," added Steve Latham in an attempt to mollify Edward's objection.
"And seriously," continued Cairns, "We don't know what is going on up there. Yes, it's dangerous. But we know squat else. There isn't anything else to tell the crew. They volunteer for a dangerous mission – nothing else. Danger is danger."
"Under the circumstances," said Madogo quietly, "I concur. We are, at the very least, compromising civil liberties. However, if nothing serious is wrong then no harm is done. If something major is happening here then that in itself justifies the withholding of information. I believe that the circumstances demand it."
Edward wanted to say no – it's immoral, it's unethical. But he was surrounded by admirals, secret service agents and a Senator. There didn't seem much point.
Dave turned to Cairns, "If I give you a list of all available crew would you be able to check them out? I can supply you with personal information and background. We need crew that've had military training, or past experience of dealing with emergencies. If you can do a more extensive check? I don't know what will help, but it would be better than just throwing it open and getting anybody."
"No problem. Let me have that list and I'll find you a crew."
"Won't there be a slight problem if they don't want to volunteer?" asked Edward.
"I'll find you your crew. You make them an offer they can't refuse." And in that statement made by Todd Cairns all the pretence of honest and moral behaviour evaporated.
"Very good," said Madogo, "This is excellent. You have my express permission to continue. Just remember to keep it all hushed until we get our reports back. Mr. King, I assume you have recorded and minuted the meeting but I suggest you do not issue copies. I will, however, leave you all to sort out the finer details. I do have a rather pressing engagement."

Edward closed his eyes and put his head back. He was once again speeding through the Berlin metropolis. This time on a routine visit to one of the companies involved in manufacture on one of the primary colonies. Normal business continued despite the crisis.
This kind of meeting was a breeze. Unlike the one he had just endured. Agreed he had expected worse. He had prepared himself for a slanging match between the navy and the UGIS, or a lengthy and heated political debate. At least it had been calm and swift, even the gritty details after the Senator had left had been sorted relatively smoothly and quickly.
It was the conclusion that stuck in his throat. There was a disaster going on on Sorensen Four and the best they could do was secretly send a single UGIS agent to have a look and report back. That would take four months. Whatever they were going through up there would be over by then. One way or the other.
He had genuinely been expecting the decision to be some kind of military involvement. The Space Corps were controversial, yes. But how controversial was it to not use them when they were needed? He had not said anything in the meeting. Dave had said enough for him and anyway he could sense the rejection of military involvement from the outset. Sure, he could see all the arguments plain enough. But he still felt uncomfortable.
He so hated politics. Can't send the troops. Can't tell the press. Can't inform the crew. Can't do fuck all. He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Maggie was right. She really was.

Steve Latham shut the door of the office behind him and sat down opposite Cairns. The lights were all low. Cairns face was lit by the soft orange glow from his screen. It was eleven at night. All the youngsters had cleared off and gone home. All the youngsters meaning all those who hadn't been with the Department that long and still had wives at home.
"I've got the team sorted," said Cairns without looking up.
"Thought you might have. Any problems?"
"Not really. Had a choice in the end. It seems quite a lot of ex-military wind up in space. I set a criteria of special forces if possible. Otherwise elite units or anyone who has actually seen action."
Finally he looked up and leaned back, as if suddenly realising that he actually had a visitor. Not that there was any formality between them. They had worked together for long enough to dispense with such nonsense.
"Young," he continued, "With no past record of irrational behaviour or antisocial activity, fairly poor on the financial side, and single."
Latham nodded. "Yeah, I follow your train of thought on most of that. Young so they've still got it if it gets physical. Social and morally obligated to help their fellow man when they see he's in trouble, and of course we are asking them to save the UG's neck. Down on the cash side so they won't turn down the chance for a little extra pocket money.
"And single because you may just be sending them to their deaths and you're a soft bugger: you want to spare the anguish of as many loved ones as possible."
"Single because I may be sending them to their deaths and I don't want their minds full of sentimental clap-trap," Cairns corrected
"And because you're a soft bugger."
"OK. If you like."
"What have you gone for, all men?"
"Soft I may be," answered Cairns, "But no-one ever accused me of being old fashioned. I've three guys and two gals so far."
"And so now you just need to fill the last vacancy with a UGIS agent. I had a quick scan of the personnel we have available. Punched in a few criteria but it wasn't good. We have no ex-spacers in the Service."
"No that's right, but then I didn't really expect any. There are few enough spacers anyways, and they usually flow in the opposite direction."
"Which means that since every single one of us came from a military background we're all equally qualified from a previous experience point of view. Unless you want to consider ex-pilots as a better option."
"No, actually, if you'd have checked that we have surprisingly few ex-military pilots. Plenty who can fly, but I think the civil boys have the mega-bucks to lure the top guns away. They certainly don't seem to end up here."
"Actually I didn't check that far. I just gave it a quick scan when I had five minutes. In any case I knew you'd have your own ideas."
"Yes that's right," nodded Cairns as he reclined in his creaking chair, rocking it slightly backwards and forwards.
"And so who do you have in mind for this little jaunt?" asked Latham checking his chrono.
"I thought I might bob along myself." Cairns said carefully watching Latham's face for expression. Latham looked up and caught his intense gaze.
"What? Am I supposed to be surprised? I've known you far too long for that, Todd. When I saw there was no obvious candidate it crossed my mind. Your name was on that list before we'd finished the meeting this morning and you haven't found a good reason yet to replace it. I may look stupid, but it's only a front."
"So you're not going to talk me out of it? Tell me to send one of the younger guys in instead? Tell me I'm an old fool who should stay behind his desk where he belongs?"
Latham laughed, "Apart from there being absolutely no point, you mean?" Then as abruptly as he had started to laugh he stopped. "No. I won't talk you out of this one. This is important; we can't do with a cock up. As a loyal UGIS man I say go – you're the man. But as a friend I'll say this much, watch yourself. This is a bad one, I can feel it. Don't take any risks. Do the job and get out. I really don't like the feel of this one Todd."
"No, nor do I Steve. That's why I couldn't give it to anyone else anyway."
"Like I said earlier," said Latham as he stood to leave, "You're a soft bugger."