Quiet Invasion(159)

There followed a series of rumbles and whooshes familiar to anyone who had traveled in space, as more airlocks opened. Then, Helen Failia, looking as straight-backed and determined as ever, marched down the narrow connector.

“Welcome home, Dr. Failia,” announced Tori over the intercom.

Helen looked only a little startled. “Thank you, Tori,” she said in the general direction of the open intercom. Then Helen faced Michael and Ben. “A full welcoming committee, gentlemen?”

Ben practically beamed. “It’s not just us.” He swept a hand toward the intercom. Helen’s eyebrows rose as she identified the rushing noise as voices and exclamations.

“Well,” she said, sounding slightly pleased. “We’d better not keep them waiting.”

“Helen.” Michael quickly sidestepped into her path. “There’s been a couple of developments you need to know about, right now.”

Helen frowned, but Ben scowled. A dark-red flush crept up his neck.

“Okay.” Helen glanced around. There was a small lounge off the corner of the clearing area for the occasional passenger who came down sick and dizzy from the transitions between weightlessness and full gravity. “Gentlemen…” She gestured for them to follow her.

But movement caught his eye, and Michael glanced back toward the connector. Josh Kenyon and Veronica Hatch walked out into flight control. Veronica caught Michael’s eye and lengthened her stride.

“I’d like to talk with you,” she said as she brushed past him. Then she set her jaw and headed for the hallway, shouldering her way through Helen’s crowd. Michael looked back again at Josh. Josh simply nodded and turned away, vanishing back into the scarab for reasons which he obviously did not feel like sharing.

Deal with that later. Michael hurried to catch up with Helen and Ben.

The three of them crowded into the lounge, with its small table, a couple of chairs, and an old-fashioned fainting couch. Helen walked to the back wall, turned around, and folded her arms.

“Well?”

Which first? Michael thought of the cheering crowds and the recording of Helen’s conversation with Mother Earth.

“We know who sent the photo to the C.A.C.”

Helen took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. Michael couldn’t help glancing at Ben. He’d gone ghost white, and Michael smiled inwardly with a kind of grim triumph.

Helen looked from Michael to Ben. He saw the realization come to her. Her face shifted, the expression turning from impatience, to shock, to disbelief, and finally to sorrow.

“No, Ben. You didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben spread his hands. “I…I wanted you to see what Mother Earth really planned for us. It was the only way.”

“Trying to push us into a revolution was an answer?” demanded Michael. Ben looked regretful, but not at what he’d done. He was only sorry he’d gotten caught. “I’d hate to hear the question.”

Ben just shook his head. His color was returning, and now he was a little too pink. “You did hear it. You just weren’t listening.”

Which didn’t even deserve an answer.

Helen collapsed into one of the chairs. She pressed her forehead against her palm and huddled in on herself as if she were cold or frightened. Michael didn’t blame her. He’d felt the same way when he saw the files. Ben wasn’t who he’d pretended to be all these years. He had lied and manipulated them all from the start. This was just the latest in a long series of deceptions. Michael wasn’t even sure it was the worst.

Michael opened his mouth to tell Helen, but she lifted her head. “Well, it doesn’t really matter,” she said.

Michael choked. “What?”

“We need Ben.” Helen got to her feet. “It would have come down to this sooner or later anyway. I need you both to keep Venera working.”

“I’m with you Helen,” breathed Ben, all sincere loyalty.

“Holy God!” Michael swung around to face him. “You! She doesn’t even know who you are!”

Helen stayed still, swaying a little on her feet. She must be exhausted, thought Michael. Or just stunned. Maybe that’s good. Let me show her how bad this is. Shock her back to her senses.

“His name is Paul Mabrey,” said Michael, looking straight at Ben. The pink tinge to his skin faded, then darkened, until he turned red with what? Shame? Anger? “He followed Fuller through the Bradbury Rebellion and then disappeared under cover of an alias, leaving the Paul Mabrey identity as one of the sharpest clip-outs our two U.N. security drones say they’ve ever seen.” Ben’s eyes narrowed, just a little, and Michael wondered what he was thinking. It didn’t matter. “He used you, Helen. He used you and Venera.”