11. Testing on the Moon
Dr. Sinclair shuffled across the stark white floors of the cloning lab. "How many Fenrites are you creating?"
Dr. Julios Farmer answered almost evasively. "Around thirty."
Sinclair was not happy. "How many exactly?"
"Twenty seven."
Her reply was sudden, like an instant clap of disapproving thunder. "Why such a small number?"
Farmer hemmed and hawed, but eventually he revealed the truth. "Two reasons, really. I'm not so sure it's a good idea to mass produce the Fenrites and place a large colony on the moon. We have our own moon bases and it would be unfortunate to have another problem."
"You let me worry about potential problems," Sinclair reprimanded. "But if it makes you feel better, I have considered the potential hazards of a Fenrite colony on the moon. I don't care how many Fenrites you create, I'm not about to let them become a threat to anything else up there. If they do, we'll eliminate them with six different poison gases. The sphere will also be charged with explosives. They won't get out, not alive anyway. Now, what's the second reason?"
Dr. Farmer grunted at these rather hostile reassurances as he revealed his other concern. "On Fenrir, the Fenrites displayed amazing reproductive capabilities. I don't know if it was the lizard portion of their genetic map, but their population grew at a staggering rate. I want to try and analyze such growth within our controlled environment. If I keep the number low, I can watch the mating patterns more closely. I can also keep better track of gestation and growth cycles. After all, this is a major component of the Fenrite mystery. They managed to grow from numerous, yet staggered and identifiable colonies, to a mass planetary population. I still don't know how that was possible."
The thought held merit, but Sinclair was not quite satisfied. "We studied that during the first phase of the Fenrite project. I thought our researchers had most of those questions answered."
"Theories only," Farmer countered. "There was indeed confirmation of multiple births and short gestation periods, but I still don't believe that explains the dramatic population increase in full. I've used computer simulations to try and make the initial colony numbers meet the current estimated Fenrir population. In my mind, the numbers don't add up. Unless the offspring were immediately having offspring of their own, there must be something we're missing. Maybe the males are also conceiving somehow, I don't know. That's why I wish to keep the moon-based colony small at first. At twenty seven total Fenrites, eleven females and sixteen males, I can accurately determine all factors of population growth. If we start out with a larger figure, my data will be skewed. I don't want that to happen."
"I see." Sinclair heaved a heavy, dissatisfied breath. "I'm not sure that's as important a factor as some of the other variables. Determining why they advanced technologically is the major concern. If we hamper them with a low population count, we may never understand how they were able to advance so quickly. Your focus may be misplaced."
Here, Dr. Farmer's confidence grew. "I considered that and I am prepared to handle such a setback. If the colony does not grow in size quickly and this seems to hamper their progress, I will initiate two new adjustments. I will immediately clone additional Fenrites. I will also stimulate their technological progress by introducing inventions that the Fenrites made on their own. Give them a little nudge in the right direction, so to speak."
"Won't that in itself jeopardize the findings of this experiment?” Sinclair asked dubiously “We want to see why the Fenrites have advanced so quickly on their own. We didn't provide Fenrir with little devices for them to study."
"That's true, but I'm hoping it won't come to that."
Sinclair moved her large frame slowly around the cloning lab. She crumpled her forehead into a mass of folded lines as she struggled with the issue. She was about to order Farmer to increase the number of Fenrites immediately, but she bit her tongue.
"I'm going to give you want you want, but I'm going to get what I want as well," she finally announced. "I'm going to order a second biosphere constructed. One sphere will have the limited numbers you wish for your study. The other will hold the much larger number. It shouldn't take that much time. The first sphere is being constructed to house five to six separate colonies. The one you need can be significantly smaller. Is that acceptable?"
Dr. Farmer nodded almost happily. "Quite."
#
The larger moon biosphere, constructed to house several Fenrite colonies, received the first collection of cryochambers. Transport techs injected each Fenrite encased in a frozen capsule with tranquilizers before resurrecting them from the cold. They placed the Fenrites upon the ground in a manner similar to the procedure enacted on Fenrir. All transporters and scientists, cryochambers and resuscitating equipment; all signs of human existence were removed before the sedatives wore off. The researchers left nothing within the biosphere other than the plant life which was an exact replica of Fenrir's own ecosystem. The new colony of "aliens" was left alone within this large, translucent half-sphere, but they were now constantly observed, carefully and continuously watched.
The monitors at Earth-Moon Observation Fenrite (EMOF) covered every moment of inception. The sphere itself was constructed not just to replicate the environment on Fenrir, but to facilitate the full reach of surveillance. Every event was recorded and examined by dozens of researchers.
Of the Fenrite subjects placed here, some were deposited in large gatherings, others in small groups, and a few were completely isolated. The process of following each Fenrite from its moment of consciousness was covered with painstaking detail. The researchers at EMOF would take no chance in missing the key link to discovering the Fenrite's accelerated advancement.
Within the sphere, the true moment of inception came at the first fluttering of a Fenrite eyelid. Slowly, the Fenrites began to show signs of waking. A few grunted. Some rolled about while others rubbed their eyes.
More attention was placed on this moment of so-called birth than had been previously performed at the moment of inception back on Fenrir. Scientists studied every move of the Fenrites - how they awakened, how they stirred upon the ground, and how they finally rose to their feet. The focus never waned.
Two moments were of vital interest - the first communication between individuals and the ultimate gathering of the main colony.
Two of the first subjects to rise carried themselves with apparent curiosity. They first examined their own bodies, scanning their arms and legs and feeling their heads. Once satisfying this seemingly common ritual, they began to focus on the others. They moved about the grass covered grounds as they inspected those that still languished in partial sedation. When these two fully awake members finally came face to face, they simply stopped. They both, two females, appeared to struggle for long moments. Amazingly, one spoke a simple yet strange greeting to the other. "Good Harvest" was the phrase given.
They spoke in New English, the accepted language of Regency. The researchers knew the Fenrites used New English, it was the monitored communication from Fenrir, but they never expected to see this test sample develop the words so quickly.
The two continued to communicate. It was rough at first, as if they had to struggle to remember every other word, but still a stunning development.
Other members of the new Fenrite colony joined the conversation. It was as difficult as it was entrancing for the scientists to study. The communications were labored and slow, a battle to find a word or phrase, but they continued, and the Fenrites displayed an amazing patience. Adding to the intrigue, the isolated stragglers and some of the smaller parties joined the larger group and entered the conversation with similar adeptness of language. No one was treated as a stranger or invader.
As this joint meeting unfolded, the Fenrites discussed their immediate food and water sources, the need to explore the land. They spoke of building shelters and cultivating the soil with an intuitive understanding for survival. There was a general acceptance of their surroundings as well as their situation and little time was lost on discussing their sudden existence. They selected a leader almost out of necessity and the process appeared goodwilled and effortless, as if they knew who was best suited to organize them.
The gatherings of all Fenrites, whether in large groups or in smaller parties, took on an almost logical path. They addressed immediate needs as if they had all been trained in basic survival. In each case, the meetings took but one strange turn, a moment when they all made a reference to "Finding the true Mother". Not a single Fenrite gave further explanation. The Fenrites seemed to know who this "Mother" was, and the importance in discovering the entity was understood by all.
Much of the same happened in the second, smaller biosphere. The twenty seven Fenrites woke, began communicating and quickly working together. A reference was also made to the "True Mother", though again, no further description was given.
After inception in both spheres, Dr. Sinclair called for an immediate meeting.
#
A screened transport with a handful of Espial field agents (Espial is the security and information gathering branch of Regency) departed from the Propelled Planning Station with a landing curtain in full generation. It was the one thing both the Authority and Regency Govern could agree upon, though the Authority was not informed that the request came from Dr. Sinclair's Fenrite Discovery Council. Everyone had questions, and Espial field agents mastered the training and controlled the means to obtain the answers.
The craft took a low profile approach, keeping the system's sun directly at its tail as it entered Fenrir's atmosphere. It dove to the surface with lightning speed, leveling off at tree-top level. The landing curtain remained in full coverage throughout the journey as Espial agents dropped to several locations upon Fenrir soil. The transport never invoked its Boscon Props, relying instead upon ancillary engines and gravitational flying techniques to reduce the craft's signature. Such careful procedures were normally not applied, but the agents moved with a care generated by the unknown.
While observation posts at the Planning Station pinpointed surface radar facilities, intelligence on other means of Fenrite detection and surveillance remained limited. The station receptacles failed to record other wave patterns emanating from Fenrir, but such an absence didn't mean that the Fenrites were without the technology to spot airborne craft. With such accelerated advancement, it would not be unreasonable to assume they might have made major breakthroughs in other techniques. From spectrum enhancement to wave displacement and particle disturbance, the use of such technology might detect the wake of the transport and threaten the mission as well as the lives of the agents. Such a threat forced careful measures.
Considering the Fenrites a threat became a necessity. They already displayed missile capability and a willingness to engage. Now that they had suffered the loss of an entire city, it was not unreasonable to assume they might be working feverishly to invent and employ new methods of surveillance. Given their speed of advancement, expecting the impossible became standard procedure. And if the Fenrites could indeed detect incoming ships, it was a considered a definite possibility they would attack.
With such considerations at the forefront of a reconnaissance mission, over a dozen Espial agents moved on foot toward pre-coordinated observations points with full surveillance gear. Some worked in pairs, others alone.
Starr Jerrings stalked her path without a partner.
She moved from her desert landing point to a pre-located hollow in a nearby rock formation. A small Fenrite settlement that had developed into a
complex industrial park was her main target. She would not approach at dusk, but just after midnight local Fenrite time. As the transport could not facilitate optimal landing times for all operatives, it remained the agent's responsibility to remain hidden until the proper time of reconnaissance.
A planetary surface scan performed by the Planning Station revealed the hollow, and no Fenrite life signs were detected in the area. It would conceal her for the few hours necessary before she could begin her independent mission.
Starr took all necessary precautions upon making her drop site. As she made her way to the hollow, she activated an independent curtain, not so much a cloak of invisibility, but more a personal field of wave static. She crossed the hard rock surface of this desolate area in an all out sprint, remaining crouched over like a hunting cat. She slowed only upon reaching her initial destination.
Two sandstone monuments marked her cover point. Ages of wind had pressed opposing rock collections together and compacted sand into a hardened sculpture that looked like the back of a double-humped camel. Below the crevices and between the rock bulges waited the hollow.
As animal life other than the Fenrites was never introduced to this planet, Starr did not have to worry about disturbing a desert snake or poisonous lizard, but her training kept her from simply diving into an unknown hole. Her caution revealed a surprise. She peered into the opening among the rocks and saw not a simple hollow but a long descending path which led to darkness.
She flattened herself against the sandstone, but maintained a position just outside the breach. She took a small glow-stick and carefully scattered the darkness about the very edges of the cave-like entrance. It was supposed to be a small cavity, large enough to fit several humans, not a deep cave as it appeared.
Maintaining silence, she moved into the opening, opting to explore this unanticipated finding rather than abort the mission. She waited in pure stillness, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark as she killed the light from the glow-stick. The fading sunlight drifted into the cave, and her widening pupils allowed her to scan farther down the path. She moved forward; slowly, carefully, but inspecting the sides of the rock with her hands. The opening section of the cave was smooth and natural, but deeper within the crevice, the rock revealed scars and uneven markings. The tunnel was not formed by the presence of wind or water battering the insides of the original hollow, but by manufactured forces, tools of the Fenrites.
Starr considered the discovery for but a moment. Her main objective, to survey the industrial park to the northeast, remained paramount to supplementary issues. It held information that could not be ignored. The Authority needed to know the defense capabilities of the Fenrites, including their manufacturing base. Still, she had several hours before her original mission could commence, creating an opportunity to explore this tunnel without delaying her main objective, but she could not break transmission silence to gain higher approval. In the end, it was her call, and she decided to explore the tunnel.
#
Dr. Sinclair had new questions, pressing questions, and she was abrupt with her demands.
"What the hell happened in that biosphere? And don't give me any flippant responses. This is not the time for humor. I want to know how they were able to communicate so quickly."
She looked harshly upon the man in charge, her expectations clear. She would not accept indecision or uncertainty.
"Dr. Farmer?"
The geneticist did not hesitate. "In all honesty, it shouldn't have been that easy, but we already have one plausible explanation. As the Fenrites had no other opportunity for development, we must go back to their very creation. It is here where the answers must lie."
In response to Sinclair's impatient glare, he quickly ordered the retrieval of data pertaining to Fenrite conception.
"During the cloning process, we instilled the Fenrites with the knowledge of basic agriculture. That was done for both the new, moon-based colonies as well as the original Fenrites placed on their home world. Most of the information was in the form of illustrations. We didn't try to tell them what do. The brain wave infusion was meant to show them how to grow food in an efficient manner. This was done with a collection of images, pictures for the mind to recollect through memory cells in the brain. It was impossible, however, to eliminate all references of our own language from the knowledge transfer. If we did, we would have jeopardized the importance of communication. Just as knowledge of agriculture was implanted in their memory cells, portions of our language were infused as well. I believe that the Fenrites are drawing upon those references to recall our own language."
The panel of researches hummed in agreement.
"It really does make sense," Farmer continued. "The first greeting contained a direct reference to harvest. That in itself is an obvious link. We see that they struggle to find the proper words. That is also an important clue. They are searching their own memory, but they have no memory, only what we implanted through the brain wave infusion. We may not have intended to give them a working knowledge of our complete language to start, but looking back at our procedures, I believe that was inevitable. We had even addressed this in an earlier meeting before the first Fenrir project. No one had an objection to the Fenrites using New English. There were some concerns about jeopardizing the secrecy of our actions, but in all, everyone was most enthused about the Fenrites speaking our language. In all honesty, this should have been expected."
Sinclair was far from happy. "I'm not arguing about them using New English, I am concerned about the speed in which they have gained proficiency. We did not implant brain wave or memory knowledge of our language. They were not given the type of intelligence or the instinct modification to fully understand New English, yet they only showed limited difficulty in developing full communications. I want to know how they adopted it so quickly. That continues to be the question. Why is it that they are able to do everything in an accelerated fashion?"
Farmer frowned, but he attempted to describe his own beliefs. He folded his hands in front of his lips as he tried to organize his own thoughts. "I'm not so sure this is an accelerated process. Under these circumstances, using the technology and the genetic patterns we chose, we were simply bound to create this kind of aberration. At least I think so. We know gorillas have their own form of communicating. It is instinctive. It came with their genes. It is still in the Fenrites. We expanded their brain capacity, both for the moon colonies and for those upon Fenrir itself. Our intention was to establish an organism that would pass as an alien with the ability to grow. Now take all the factors and combine them. The inherent ability to communicate, the expanded intelligence, and the knowledge infusion with references to our own language."
"So this wasn't their own development?" Sinclair questioned sternly. "They didn't have to rely on advancement because we gave them this ability?"
"That's my belief." Dr. Farmer started tapping his fingers together. "Actually, though this in itself may not indicate a discovery process, it may help to explain part of the accelerated advancement back on Fenrir. With no language barrier, the Fenrites had one less obstacle to overcome. That in itself can't explain everything, but it is a start."
Other researchers agreed, pointing to earth's history of thousands of languages and dialects.
Sinclair huffed. For the most part, she was satisfied, even enthused about this theory. It offered a working assumption for explaining part of the Fenrites' accelerated development. It did not, however, answer all of the questions which arose from the moon colony inception.
"Well then, can you tell me who is this ‘Mother’ they keep talking about?"
Farmer just shook his head. "That I can't answer."
#
Hot air drifted up from the steep-angled tunnel, warmer than the winds coming off the cooling desert just outside the camel-humped rock formation.
"Air vent," Starr murmured to herself.
She checked her portable, both for elapsed time and electronic impulses. She still had several hours before she needed to return to the tunnel exit and begin her primary mission, time enough to explore more of the tunnel. As for scanning wave patterns, there was a definite trace of slight radiation, like the emissions of older model terminal screens. There was also an electronic pulse equivalent to microchip discharge. Definitely the signs of an underground communications or command center.
Travel through the tunnel was not easy. It was not a path created for access, but instead a crudely dug ventilation passage to allow air circulation. In truth, its existence offered its own puzzle. Advanced underground command centers normally did not have such unrefined ventilation systems, but this is exactly what she discovered.
She made quick recordings of her findings, and again she detected waiting contradictions. There were mainframe computers of ancient design working in concert with microprocessors that rivaled the efficiency of her own portable. Vacuum tubes covered an entire wall of confused electronics just as deftly architected silicon chips controlled highly sophisticated guidance systems. A pile of punch cards almost brought a cynical laugh to her lips, until she spied a lasercable uplink.
The entire scene was a pure illustration of inconsistencies, containing signs more of a hoax than of any true finding. Starr, however, understood the Fenrite development. They were moving so fast in technology invention, they did not have time to keep all the facilities updated with the most current advances. She wondered how many more incompatible designs she would find when she reconned the manufacturing center. Unfortunately, she would never get the chance to carry out her main objective.
Her portable flashed yellow with motion detection below her and to the right. She froze in the tunnel, still entrenched enough in the vent to remain concealed.
Two Fenrite sentries - dressed in what amounted to sixteenth century armor, only the metal was lighter and more flexible - appeared upon the ground below. They seemed to be transfixed with their own computer, something similar to one of the bulkier laptop models of the late twentieth century, but they showed definite signs of concern and alertness. They traversed the area in a spread pattern, peering behind corners and searching the crevices behind massive equipment.
The creatures were slightly shorter in stature than the average human. They spoke in coarse tones, but they spoke in a language she could understand.
"False alarm?" One asked the other.
The Fenrite holding the laptop shook his head. "No, something was here. Crows in the wheat."
"Crows in the wheat," the first agreed.
Starr bit her lip. She knew the Fenrites had never seen a crow; birds were not introduced to Fenrir. She also knew that the cloned Fenrites were instilled with basic agricultural knowledge. "Crows in the wheat" could mean only one thing. Invaders. They knew she was there.
She checked her position. She avoided their detection for the moment because they checked ground level access points. Eventually they would peer upwards. When they did, she wasn't deep enough in the shadows to elude their discovery. She also wasn't too pleased with what she could distinguish of the laptop. It was obviously a sensor of some sort, not quite a motion detector, more like a low level scanner. It probably worked on the ability to detect heat. The air flow in the vent was masking her presence, but she knew that wouldn't last for long. One flux in the air temperature and they'd know right where she was.
She gauged the distance between her and the closest Fenrite. She had two choices - drop in the room and take them both out, or flee up the shaft. She didn't know how large this command center stretched and didn't know the level of security. For now there were but two sentries, but one had made a reference to an alarm, more might be on the way. She decided to flee rather than fight, hoping to avoid detection. If she was noticed, she would rely on her lead to reach the desert first and lose any followers in the darkness topside.
She moved with great care, but her first motion set off another alarm.
The Fenrite with the laptop could not localize the disturbance, but he called a warning to his partner. "The sky is red, the sky is red!"
The reference to coming storms forced the second sentry's attention to the ceiling. The female guard pointed to the shaft.
"There!"
The Fenrite said nothing further. It bounded across the floor and leapt toward the air shaft.
Starr's lead quickly diminished. She bolted up the tunnel at full speed, but it remained a difficult climb as the shaft was steep and narrow.
The Fenrite had no such difficulty. It's slightly smaller frame fit easily through the opening. Its inherent ability from the gorilla portion of its genes allowed it to handle the steep incline with much greater swiftness. In but a heartbeat, it had obtained a firm hold of Starr's ankle.
The strength of the Fenrite was surprising. The guard pulled fiercely, snapping Starr's lower leg, and then dragging the Espial agent back down the vent.
Starr bit down on the pain, crushed a scream within her while she made one last attempt to free herself. Ignoring the anguish, she flipped herself downward, using the slope to accelerate her fall. She came down heavy on the Fenrite's back, but she simply bounced away and slammed against the shaft wall. This time she could not keep from screaming, but only for a moment.
The sentry kept her hold on the agent's broken leg as she dropped from the ceiling vent. The Fenrite landed its feet, but Starr was whipsawed downward. The agent's neck broke clean as her head crashed against the floor.
#
Dr. Sinclair spoke through a secured channel to the new liaison between the councils and the Authority.
Aron Skysdale did not approach his appointment like other coordinators. He was more of a fact-finder, a communicative link. That wasn't exactly want Sinclair had wanted out of a liaison, she had hoped for someone who might sway the Authority generals back into a stance of cooperation, but she doubted that this was possible in the short term. Authority Command was being as obstinate as ever on this particular issue, and all commanding officers displayed a downright abhorrence to work with any council, even Regency Govern.
Skysdale had served in the Authority as a Station Subcommander. It was not his duty to question orders, only to see that they were communicated to the proper personnel. For this, he had gained the trust of the highest ranking officers within Authority Command, and Sinclair regarded this aspect of Skysdale's appointment as extremely important. If she couldn't get Authority to agree with the councils, at least she wanted to know what they were up to.
Skysdale reported his findings in a casual manner, dropping the formal and respectful style he used when dealing with the military. It was a tone he learned to adopt when speaking to council members, an inflection that made everyone a little more relaxed. He found he liked his position, and he learned to adapt into the role of liaison. For his own purposes, and even his own curiosity, he wanted to get information from both sides.
"They're not liking what they're finding out," he began rather pessimistically. "Apparently, the Espial agents got strong intelligence on a number of tech plants on Fenrir. Their progress doesn't seem to be slowing. In fact, it appears they've recovered parts of the Spearheads that didn't detonate. They've got samples of our guidance chips, communication links, and fuel sources. No one's happy about that."
Sinclair voiced her own disapproval. "They should have realized that was a risk back before they decided to drop me from the council. I would have never made that mistake. Someone should be putting Jack Lasonelli up for a medal for having that transport destroyed before the Fenrites could get a hold of it. He was the only one that appeared to be thinking straight that day."
"I don't think we want to bring up that name right now," Skysdale interrupted. "Many Authority generals are still using his insolence as a reason for not cooperating with Govern. By the way, what's the word on Coordinator Lasonelli? Both Govern and the Authority are concerned about this Rath Scampion. According to all reports, he's a loose cannon. The Authority wants to know how that's being handled."
"You never mind what's going on with Jack," Sinclair reprimanded. "I've assigned him to take care of the problem with Scampion and I'm sure he'll handle it. I want you to be concerned with what's going on at Fenrir and what's happening between Govern and the Authority. What else did the agents learn?"
Skysdale hid his annoyance. He wanted that information from Sinclair. He had hoped to use it as a bargaining chip to learn a few of the more guarded Authority plans. No one but Espial security and Sinclair knew how the coordinator planned to take out the scout, but he knew others cared about it. It would have made his job easier. For now, he outlined what he was aware of back on Fenrir.
"Espial also got info on Fenrite leaders. More bad news. It's almost an apolitical society. There's no power struggle, no opposing political parties or factions. There are absolutely no restrictions in the form of political impasse. Every leader is simply chosen based on his or her ability to coordinate the most efficient use of their resources. That restricts Espial ability to use subterfuge and counteraction. If there's no rival faction to the group in power, there's no way to flame internal strife. They're all just one big happy family."
Sinclair's brow furrowed in frustration. "You don't know how tired I am of hearing that. Why can't one of these sociological experts explain how that happened?"
"Well I know I can't, but there's one last bit of bad news you should know about. A few agents did not return to the pickup sites. The Espial director is none to happy about that, either. He's in a difficult spot as it is. He's trying to keep everyone happy; the Authority, Govern, even you."
"Well, I'm not happy," Sinclair ranted. "And I don't give a damn which director is upset. Regency Govern has given this council unrestricted power. I hold the chair, which means I have unrestricted power. If he gives you any problems at all, make sure he knows I'll have him removed."
"He could side with the Authority if I do that," Skysdale offered. "I mean, I'll tell him whatever you want, but I think you want him on our side. Right now, he's holding his allegiance to Govern. He's allowing service requests to the Authority out of standing practice, but if he starts getting annoyed with us; he could easily offer his agency's vast resources and information to the Authority on a more permanent basis. That would not help us."
"What are you talking about? Some kind of coup? That's ridiculous. This is Regency, not some two-bit past earth government."
"I'm just letting you know what could happen. Espial is a unique agency. It reports to Govern, but in all honesty, it doesn't have to. Any message we send to Espial should be through Govern, and my advice is not to ruffle any feathers over there."
"Do you have any other advice?" Sinclair demanded with an edge of sarcasm.
"Actually, I do. The Authority is not backing down to Govern on anything right now. They're playing a waiting game on Fenrir, but I can't say how long that will last. I've talked to some people with connections on the Planning Station out there. They're considering another strike, one that probably won't fail."
"We've developed our own plans for such a contingency," Sinclair interrupted. "If it needs to be done, we have a way to do it clean."
"Authority doesn't care about clean," Skysdale insisted. "They want the threat removed, and they remain very anxious about another council sponsored failure. They're up in arms about a good many things right now. I suggest we give them a spot of good news, something to relax them. That's why I wanted to know about the Scampion problem. If we can tell them how that's being handled..."
Sinclair didn't let him finish. "Just tell the generals we finally got Espial clearance to dispose of Mr. Scampion."