Chapter 12

By the time we reached Earth space, Danny still hadn't got back to me, to Branny's intense disappointment. Then came an even bigger disappointment: Earth could not be seen from Lipskiy base.

As soon as the Isaac Newton was in orbit around Luna, I got a call ordering me to report to Lipskiy base immediately. The tone of the order did not sound pleasant.

"AI, how do I get to Lipskiy base?"

"Report to the main hangar deck. The main transporters are situated there."

"Thanks. Roger?"

At my call, Dad quickly came into my office.

"I've gotta go down to the moon. Keep an eye on things while I'm gone. AI? Please ensure Roger and Imogen have all the necessary system accesses for while I am off the ship."

"Confirmed." The AI did not sound happy.

Ten minutes later I met Melissa at the transporter pads, and we were quickly whisked down to the moon. It was instantly obvious that we were on the moon, the gravity for one seemed almost none-existent. "This could be fun," I said in a dry aside to Melissa. Assuming I really meant it, she started to argue, then caught the look on my face and subsided with a scowl.

"Excuse me," I asked an apparent receptionist in front of me. "I'm Llewelyn Carter and this is Melissa West. We've been told to report here?"

The receptionist, if that's what he was, consulted a list on a PDA he was holding, then nodded. "Room A2W. That way," he pointed along a corridor that led away to his right.

We thanked him and followed the corridor. There were doors on both sides of the corridor, but only numbers, no letters, but the numbers, which started at eight, were at least getting smaller. We reached number two, halted, paused for a moment, then knocked.

There was no reply. I knocked again, and again there was no reply. Unfortunately there was also no door handle. "Shit now what?" I asked.

"Push?" suggested Melissa.

I shrugged and pushed and to my slight embarrassment the door opened easily. Inside was a small open-plan office, with desks for about ten, but there seemed to be almost no one there. "Excuse me?" I called to the one person I could see, a young man at the far end of the office, tapping at a computer.

He looked up, his face a picture of astonishment, and then jumped up and came running towards us. "Get out, get out, this is a secure office, you can't be in here. You know you're not supposed to enter any office until you've been invited in, or escorted in."

We retreated but only as far as the door we had entered by.

"We were told to report here," I shouted over his shouts.

He paused, then shook his head. "Not here you wouldn't have been. Not this office,"

"Office A2W?" asked Melissa.

The young man paused again, and I could see the thoughts whirling in his mind.

"Ah. No. This is A2N. Out the door, left, to the end, turn right, second door from the far end."

"Oh. Okay. The door just said 2."

He nodded. "This is level A, the top level, which contains most of the offices, level B contains ... er, this is the North wing, hence the N, you want room 2 on the West wing, which is where the senior officers all have their offices. Office two will be," he paused and blanched, "Shit, get out, go, run, you're late."

He practically bundled us out of the office, and though we didn't run - it wasn't possible in that gravity anyway - we hurried as best we could.

"You should have been here ten minutes ago," yelled the occupant of the office, when we eventually found it. "In fact, you should have been here two months ago. When you found out you were in Intelligence, why did you not report here straight away?"

"Because we didn't know this place existed until a few days ago. No one on the ship... ," I started.

"I don't give a goddamn what anyone on that flaming ship knew," he said, practically spitting his fury at me, "you should have got off."

"But sir," started Melissa.

"NO BUTS," yelled what I assumed was our boss. I still didn't know his name. "I should have the pair of you court-martialled for dereliction of duty." He paused, but there didn't seem any point in saying anything so we just waited it out. "The third member of your little menage-a-trois only escaped his bollocking because Soloat has been asking for an intelligence officer for months, and when you all happened to be there he got chosen as the most suitable of the three of you." His voice rose again. "And I see he's applied for a transfer. DENIED!"

The man in front of us ranted and raved for what seemed like an hour before finally relenting. "You," he said pointing at Melissa. "Room A9N. Go. Now. Fast."

Melissa looked at me despairingly and left, quickly. She didn't ask, and I hoped from what we'd been told by the previous person we'd spoken to, she would be able to work out, hopefully, where to find the room she needed.

"You. Why you were chosen for this I don't fuckin' know. We don't need more flamin' Limey's, we're already overrun with the fuckers. Room A15E." He grinned at me maliciously. "It's almost as far from here as it's possible to get. You've got ten minutes."

I left, but instead of turning towards the end of the corridor, I turned the other way. About half way along the corridor there had been a small alcove, not unlike the one we had arrived on, I was guessing, hoping, there would be a transporter there that would take me direct from the middle of the West Wing to the same place on East Wing. To my eternal relief I was right, and with probably only seconds to spare, I got to my destination.

I took a couple of deep breaths to calm my shattered nerves, and knocked.

"Come," yelled a voice.

The room was similar in a way to the first office we had entered, but this time there were three people in it, and a whole raft of empty desks. That they were normally occupied was obvious by the amount of personal clutter on many of them.

"Hello. I'm Commander Harding, and I'll be your line officer while you're on Lipskiy," said the same voice that had invited me in.

Commander Matt Harding was a lot smaller than I had expected, probably only five foot ten inches, short dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a thin, almost pinched, face. His face suggested bitterness, but he sounded cheerful, confident and friendly. Up close, his accent was from the north East of England. When I found out later he was actually from Newcastle, I knew it was the authentic Geordie accent.

"Hello, Lieutenant Carter reporting for duty, sir."

"Oh, no formalities here. No uniforms either," he said nodding at my uniform. "Except you've just come from Wilkerson, so that was a good idea." He grinned. "Didn't expect you for another twenty minutes, so either you're better in the point one Lunar gravity, or you're..." he trailed off with a questioning smile.

"I found the transporter pad to take me direct from west wing to east wing."

He nodded. "Bit naughty, but we've just finished for the evening, so we're not busy.

"Oh, sorry. Is it not allowed?"

"Technically, no. In theory old battle axe Wilkerson who's just sent you to me will rip your nuts off if he saw it. But since I know he only gave you ten minutes to get here, that would be the only way to do it. If he complains I'll just get my boss to squash him." He grinned nastily. "Don't worry. Lot's of little turf wars going on here."

"What rank is he?"

"Wilkerson? He's a Major. Ignore him. You don't work for him. You work for me. And if you need his services, go through me and I'll see you talk to the right person on his staff. Okay?"

I just nodded.

"Well, you've ended up in a pool job. Sorry. It's very important, but almost any monkey can do it. In reality people are only in here until there's a project for them. In here it's just collating and filing. In theory the AI's could do it just as well, and faster, but they won't spot things that a Human might, so we do it and we do it better." Matt Harding proceeded to give me a quick, verbal, tour of the base.

"Lipskiy base is basically a square block dug down into the lunar surface," I was told. "We are hard against the north wall of Lipskiy crater, built partly into it in fact. Level A contains most of the offices, and only north wing and a small part of east wing are inside the crater wall. Level B contains conference and meeting rooms, plus all the technical stuff, most of the AI's, the power supply, the main replicators et cetera, plus file rooms for all the paperwork we generate. Level C is part accommodation, plus the refectory or mess hall, the gym, the theatre which doubles as the cinema and other recreational type places. Levels D through H are straight accommodation levels. Only level D has apartments above ground, all the rest are totally below surface level, though all levels are at least partly buried. If you ever find yourself in a corridor and realise you've lost your bearings, look at the colour of the line painted down the centre of each corridor. South wing is white, east is red, west is blue, and north is black. The arrows point to the nearest emergency access stairs. There's one in each corner. If you're even daft enough to forget which level you are on, head to the nearest transporter pad in the centre of each wing, so the opposite direction to the arrows, and look on the wall behind it. If it's blank, you're on level A, otherwise you'll see the letter painted three foot high."

I nodded my understanding, and he continued. "The transporter pad on North wing level A, where you came in, is normally the only way in and out of the base, though in an emergency all transporter pads can be used. All the transporter pads on every level can link to each other, and under normal operating conditions, the only way between levels is by transporter pad. This is for security reasons. In an emergency however, doors open allowing access to stairs between levels. There's no atrium or similar, so all the levels are individually closed off from the others. About once every three months there will be emergency drills. Make sure you read up on what you have to do."