Chapter 2: Grand Distances
Director Winston watched his monitors in the darkness. They showed the security teams running around the station, arresting and interrogating suspects and talking to witnesses. The only monitor he was interested in was the interrogation of their only true suspect, a lab technician by the name of Steve Reverend. The files said that he was specialist in the realm of the new space-time field manipulation using high energy radiation and chief design engineer behind the development of the portable portal that was used to steal the whole of their research. He was a highly intelligent man and spent years developing research data for the military though he never actually joined with the armed services.
Winston toyed with the notion that had he actually joined the military he might have gotten away with his sabotage and his attempted escape as well. He watched the scientist collapse to the floor as the interrogators pummeled into cooperating with their investigation.
His face jerked in another flash of pain, and spots before Steve's eyes before he fell to the floor with the force of the last punch. At least this time I hit the floor, Steve thought, they won't punch me again until they right me. At least I get a moment of rest before they start again.
The man running his interrogation smiled and swiftly drove his size twelve steel toe boot into Steve's stomach. He watched and smiled a little as he lay there trying to cover himself while his hands were tied behind him. He kicked him again and again, pausing for only a moment to ask his only question so far.
"So?" He said, "Who are you working for?" Steve did nothing but cough on the floor. He kicked him again. "You know this hurts worse than what I could do with only my fist right?" He bent down close to Steve and whispered into his ear, "Just tell me what I want to know and I can go back to my room and sleep. Just pretending like this never happened and you can nurse your wounds back in your cell. Huh? You like that idea?" He straightened himself up and placed his boot under Steve's neck.
"I have to say I admire your spirit. You're my enemy now, this is true but that shouldn't mean that I don't respect you. I admire a man that will die for a cause." Then with a sharp yell he lifted his foot and straightened up Steve in his chair and finished with a swift kick to his jaw. Steve mumbled in pain but his interrogator only laughed.
"Don't worry my friend. Your jaw is not broken, just bruised. You will be fine." He took a chair from the corner of the tiny room and sat in front of Steve. "So you can't say you can't talk. Okay." He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag, "You are lucky that this is not in Russia my friend. I was recruited by the Americans you know. Did you know that? My papers say I am artist. Ha. I would love to think of myself as artist. They say this is art." He lifted Steve's head and asked, "What do you think?"
"That will be enough for today." The intercom spoke. It was Director Winston. "We know who you work for Steve. We know what you plan to do and why. You will be returned to your cell and then we will decide what to do with you later. Is that understood Petrova?"
"Yes, Director. Perfectly clear." The interrogator said. He turned to Steve and smiled. "At least your journey of pain is at an end." He took off the restraints on Steve's chair and escorted the prisoner to his cell.
Nicoli sat back and watched them leave the cell and switched the monitor to scan the station. He rubbed his eyes and face trying to stay awake. He watched the scanning display of the ships tracking the portal's exit. As the prisoner was being detained the ship's crews had captured the ring and found it was rigged to be destroyed after its use on the escape pods. Luckily, the explosives used were only suitable for oxygenated environments. Even with the detonator active and engaged there would be no possible way for the ring be blown to pieces in deep space. The recaptured portal had been opened but its exit point was still unknown. For all Nicoli knew it could have opened up into any random space or joined with an existing worm hole in space. The pods could have even been aimed at a star or black hole if they knew what they were doing. He sighed as no progress was being made and decided that if he was to be of any more use he would need steady nerves and rest.
A long time military man from the start, he was trained as a child that order meant success. His father was an Admiral with the British Naval fleet and was serving as an unofficial liaison between the British and Russian governments. It was during a tour in Russia that he met his future wife and Nicoli's mother. She was also from a military background and was raised by a former director of the KGB itself. She rose quickly but felt she was often held back by her status as a woman. Eventually they grew fond of each other through their government's negotiations for trade and commerce when the Soviet Union fell and she followed him to a better life. Soon after ward she was with child.
Two generations of military excellence gave rise to the third and Nicoli was born. To anyone else being raised by two military parents would be a living hell to a child but to Nicoli it was a constant adventure. Learning the art of warfare from two different worlds and the vast rich history of the blood shed of two ancient nations was more exciting than any gory story a simple comic book could ever be. Later in life his parents immigrated to the United States and he joined the military of his new adopted country and quickly excelled earning commendations and a free education in the finest officers' academy. To him, his parents were much more strict and orderly than the military and found ways to better train his own squads and troops, but before he would see service though he was transferred without warning or notice to a top secret research facility in the early fifties and was deployed into the farthest reaches of space to sit in his chair eternally dull and filled with feelings of regret.
He reached into his desk and removed a bottle and a glass tumbler and poured himself a helping of bourbon and settled into his chair for a relaxing nap. His eyes began to slowly close when his own intercom called his name.
"Director Winston," The intercom called. He opened his eye and unmoving pressed the answer key on his intercom.
"What is it? Have we made progress?"
"Yes sir, on multiple fronts. The engineers have discovered the other end of the portal and can open it once again. And the prisoner is willing to speak with you directly, sir."
"Very will then. I will see the prisoner first and send a scouting team to the portal to investigate the emergence point. I want to be sure that it is safe before sending anyone through that portal."
"Affirmative, Director. I will inform the warden of your pending arrival." The intercom clicked off and Nicoli stood from his chair and straightened his uniform and studied himself in the mirror for a moment. He wondered what his life would be like if he hadn't been so brilliant and what accomplishments he would have by now. He left his quarters and headed town the corridor to the elevator and then the prison area.
"Now there doesn't seem to be any major injury but I suggest that you don't to anything too strenuous for the next few days." The drugs were still clouding his head and made thinking difficult for Steve as the surgical team leader looked over his shoulder. The bullet had gone straight through his arm and shoulder and missed the major arteries but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt.
"Does terrorism count as a strenuous activity, Doctor Sheppard?" Nicoli stood in the doorway like a haunting specter to Steve.
"Given his condition I would say it is, sir." Sheppard said, "At least if you get caught." He added. He had a disliking for Nicoli. He felt his cold demeanor and violent tactics were so wrong for a man in charge of a top secret organization that has its hands into everything. Even the furthest depths of space were nothing compared to his piercing eyes. It was almost as if Nicoli had no soul to call his own to Dr. Sheppard.
"So the great Director himself has come to see me?" Steve said with a slight smirk on his bruised and beaten face. "Well what is it then?"
"I see you don't believe in idle chit chat and wasting time, Steve." Nicoli said. He knew by that smirk on his face that Steve thought he was in charge. That he and he alone controlled the situation. He tightened his already balled fist and waited for his mouth to get him into trouble yet again. "Well neither do I, point of fact I hate it but you called me."
"In exchange for my cooperation I want a decent meal, clean clothes, a shower, a living quarters instead of a cell, you know like a suite or something that's usually for the higher ups and a…" Steve once again spun like a top and fell to the ground.
"In exchange for your services," Nicoli began wiping the blood from his hand onto the stunned Dr. Sheppard's scrubs, "I will treat you as leniently as is possible for a back stabbing little weasel like yourself should be treated and will try and refrain from smashing your head in with a brick or my boot." He grabbed Steve by the throat and lifted him along the wall till Nicoli's long arms had him over his head, "Lastly I will seriously consider the possibility of NOT throwing your worthless carcass out the nearest jettison port that catches my eye you piece of shit. Is that negotiable enough for you? Or do you want to try again?"
"Director, let go of my patient!" Dr. Sheppard said. "I will not have you accosting patient in my hospital!"
"Dr. Sheppard, may I remind you that you are not in charge of this hospital, only its surgical team. And I would also like to remind you that you were not chosen for your experience or your expertise in the field but because you can keep a secret and keep it well."
Nicoli then returned his attention to the gasping and coughing pile known as Steve. "All we need from you is a simple answer Steve. We know your name and background, we know you work for some kind of religious oddball group that despises our work and has some how managed to keep up with us even here and we know the destination of the pods. So what we need from you is why your organization chose to send the crystal to earth?"
Steve smiled through his pain and laughed, "It's headed for the closest sun you fool!" He laughed himself into more pain but didn't care anymore. No matter what they did to him now his mission was completed, they could do no more. He looked at the Director and smiled as he reached into his coat for what he guessed was a pistol.
"What are you going to kill me?" Nicoli removed a small, slim monitor from his jacket pocket and handed it to Steve. It was a projected map of the calculations that he had made to predict the path the pods would take to avoid the most traffic from planets and their gravitational fields though their travels throughout the solar system as they drifted toward the sun and destruction. "So you found my files, big deal. There's nothing you can do now."
"Actually you sent them to earth, not the sun. Press the green arrow in the corner. I can assure you the math is correct."
Steve looked back to the monitor and with some apprehension and confusion pressed the green arrow in the corner of the display screen. There was no problem with my calculations, he thought, none at all! The graphics showed small silver rings, representing his portal ring devices, and small white dots, for the escape pods, entering the rings. They appeared again just before the predicted orbit of mars and sailed though the empty space. Then it struck him, the small blue orb seemed to swerve into the path of the white dots and they disappeared.
"Your mathematics was correct but the fact of the matter is that you did not alter your formula. When you predicted sending them though space as projectiles without the aid of a portal you sent them at comet speeds toward the sun with clear indications that no planetary fields of gravity would be in the way. Using the portals not only removed the factor of intruding space of other objects but you removed the factor of time as well. Thank you for your answer."
Nicoli left the room and nodded to unseen figures in the corridor. Guards entered and dragged the weeping scientist back to his padded cell and locked him away where his cries would be heard by no one.
"Send word to the station at earth and headquarters that the infiltration has been identified and neutralized and that that the pods are expected to arrive at earth shortly." Nicoli said to the communications officer. He then returned to his office and his drink, ready to relax a little before the next report. It was out of his hands now and he had a station to continue running.