Chapter Ten: Holden
The Rocinante docked at its usual repair bay. The crew spilled into the area, greeted by its usual sights and smells. Sam approached them, eyes half closed from tiredness. Her usual smile was there, but the typical banter was in short supply.
"Scratch her up again?" she asked Alex.
"Just a tad," the pilot replied. "I'll help patch her up for ya."
"Tickled to hear it," Sam said. "You can start by scrubbing the scorch marks off the hull."
Alex's jaw dropped open. "I was kidding."
"Not anymore. You have any idea how busy me and my crew's been?"
Without waiting for a reply, she stuck a powered cleaning tool in his hands, and turned him around.
"Alright, alright," Alex murmured, as he was nudged toward the frigate.
Holden looked around the room; Fred stood by the exit, arms folded and waiting expectantly.
"I'll take it from here, Naomi," Holden said. "You should get to the sic bay for treatment."
"Yes, captain," Naomi said.
"Amos, find some orderlies to help you take the chests to storage."
"Got it," the mechanic replied.
Holden waited as Fred walked across the length of the repair bay to meet him. The captain handed the drive to the OPA leader.
"Excellent job, captain," Fred said. "You'll be happy to know your pay has been transferred."
"Thank you, Fred."
"Suppose I should be thanking you. This information is priceless. I'll have you sort out the salvage. Then you can meet me in my office for debriefing."
"Sounds good."
• • •
Before long, Holden found himself in one of Tycho's depots. Amos was behind from him, rifling through his own crates. Holden came to his last one. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. He grabbed the last item; a folded singlet. When he lifted it out of the box, something shiny caught his eye in the corner. He picked it up an saw it was a golden challenge coin. It had a familiar notch that Alex's missing coin had; it was unmistakably the same one.
No, it couldn't be, Holden thought. And yet he couldn't deny it. A cold feeling gripped his stomach. His mind raced to make sense of it. How could this be? Had she been one of them?
"Well I'm through here," Amos said. "You find anything?"
"No," Holden said, casually as possible. "Just a bunch of random crap."
He pocketed the coin and nonchalantly closed the crate.
"Yeah, same. Mind if I take off, cap?"
"No, go ahead."
Holden waited until Amos left the room, trying to process what he saw. As difficult as it was, he pushed aside the thought and went to Fred's office.
• • •
Holden stood in office doorway. Fred poured over the lab data on his hand terminal. When he spoke, Holden wasn't sure if he was thinking aloud or speaking to him.
"These findings are impressive. Not enough to win an entire war, perhaps. But enough to turn the tide of a battle. Sometimes, that's all it takes," Fred said.
After a few seconds, he turned the terminal off and motioned for Holden to sit.
"Start from the beginning, if you please," Fred said.
The captain recounted everything that happened, leaving out the part about the coin.
"Well, its a shame you couldn't bring Sauer back alive," Fred said. "But the data is what matters. My clean-up crew has been dispatched to dismantle the cloaking devices. The rock hoppers received their credits and are going home."
"Fred, I've thought about how best to get the findings out to the major comm networks."
Fred smiled apologetically. "I'm afraid that won't be happening."
"What are you talking about? This research could improve countless lives across the Belt, across the system. People should know about this!"
"That's too dangerous, Jim. The system's not ready for this yet."
Holden shook his head. "I was so naive. I should have known. Should have known you'd keep this to yourself."
"The system is in a precarious position, as if I have to tell you. Tensions are at an all time high. If we broadcast the data for the world to see, it would inevitably fall into wrong hands. Peoples lives would be improved for a short time. But the knowledge would be abused before long. We simply can't afford that right now."
Holden pointed a finger at Fred. "So you have the right to keep this to yourself? You decide who benefits from this data?"
"Yes Holden, I do. There will come a day when the system is in its darkest hour. When billions of people need these advancements the most. But its not now. A handful of others and myself, are all that keeps the system from tearing itself apart. Its safest under my purview.
Think about it. How would other OPA factions use this information? The Voltaire Collective or Black Sky? Or if it fell into organized criminals, like the Golden Bough Society or Loca Greiga? And if you think Earth and Mars are oppressive now, imagine they'd do with this."
Holden pushed himself out of his seat, glaring at Fred. The OPA leader looked up at him stone faced.
"Naomi might have been killed. We were almost blown out of the sky by the Faust. This was all for nothing."
"You don't know how to play the long game, Holden. As usual, you look before leaping. Just like you did after the Canterbury. You stumble upon one revelation after another, and your first thought is shout it to the rooftops. The data stays safe on Tycho. It won't be released to the public until conditions are right to do so. There will be no arguments."
Fred turned his attention to his hand terminal. Holden was incensed at being ignored so quickly. He started to back out of the room when Fred spoke again.
"The executive suites are open to you and your crew, as recompense for your actions on Galatea."
"Oh, the executive suites!?" Holden asked, soaking the words in as much sarcasm as he could. "I'm sure that means a lot to the miners about to die in inferior suits. Or ice haulers, about to be gored by meteorites that stronger armor could resist. Ever see what happens to someone's body that's only ever had low quality juice?"
Fred pushed out of his seat, rising to face Holden. The captain braced himself for the worst, when a voice came from behind him. It was one of Fred's staff officers, holding a large hand terminal.
"Critical information you've been waiting for sir," he said to Fred. "For your eyes only."
Fred waved the officer forward. The young, crisply dressed man handed the terminal to Fred. He turned his back to Holden and started reading the terminal.
"Dismissed," Fred said, over his shoulder.
Holden's hairs stood on end, anger swelling. He balled his fists and clenched his teeth, refusing to leave. As far as Fred was concerned, Holden could have been invisible. He poured over the terminal, asking the occasional question to his officer. Realizing he was beat, Holden grudgingly stepped out of the office to find his crew mates.
• • •
Holden entered the suites, to a panoramic view of the stars. Servers went around the tables, offering slices of real citrus fruit. A bartender served drinks to one side. Holden guessed each of the bottles behind the bar had been imported, and cost more than most salaries on Tycho, and he was right. The soft toned music playing in the background seemed to mock him, given the state of mind he was in.
Holden's nose picked up something he hadn't recognized in a long time, the smell of cooking meat. Actual, Earth raised meat. Memories sprang up of his Sunday dinners on his family's farm in Montana.
He reached into his pocket and felt the coin, turning it around in his fingers. Alex stared out the scenic window. Holden felt he had to make a decision. Reveal what he had seen, or let Alex have hope. It would be a decision he'd frequently revisit for a long time.
He grudgingly let go of the coin, letting it slip back into his pocket. Crew morale was critical, they needed to stay in good spirits. Holden needed his pilot happy. Better for him to know that his friend was out there somewhere. Alex was the bond that kept everyone together. Ignoring the knot in his stomach, he forced himself to side up to the pilot, admiring the view. Alex spoke first.
"Should be a couple of weeks, then the Roci will be good as new."
"Great," Holden said, less sincere than he wanted to sound.
Alex turned to Holden, the captain looked at him, fighting back guilt.
"I called over and over," Alex said. "All night. Nothing, not a single reply. I mean, we had something Holden. A connection. We were like, kindred spirits. She was a pilot too, you know. Maybe we could have brought her along. And...and I can't get a hold of her."
Holden forced a smile, and slapped his back reassuringly. "Its a big galaxy out there, Alex. People come and go all the time. Things happen. Just...keep trying, at least a little longer. If it wasn't meant to be..."
"I know," Alex replied, unconvincingly.
"Well, I've got check up with the others. Going to be alright?"
"Oh you know me. Some time in the simulator, I'll be right as rain. Always clears my head."
"Glad to hear it."
Holden turned around. Amos sat in the corner, brooding. He stared blankly at the surface of his table, shot glass and bottle of bourbon in reach. The captain knew it was best to leave him be, when he was like that. He found his own table, to wait for Naomi. A few moments later, she entered the suite and found him. She smiled warmly and took the seat opposite his.
"James, aren't these rooms wonderful?"
"Sure, yes," he said, feigning being impressed.
"How are you?" she asked.
"Well, I'd say I feel like crap. But that seems a silly, considering you were shot."
"My armor took most of it. Just got the fragments. A little recovery time with some medical gel and regen drugs, and you'd never know anything happened."
Holden offered his hand, and Naomi took it. He savored the moment of peace between them, as they enjoyed the star studded panorama.
"Do you think we'll survive this Jim?"
"Crew we, or us we?"
"I was thinking us we."
"I really hope so, Naomi. I've been difficult the last year, I know. If there's anything I can do..."
"There is."
"I'm listening."
"Next time we hunt pirates, try to talk them down?"
Holden grinned. "It's a deal."
Hand in hand, they silently admired the stars, as the Tycho continued spinning in the Black.