Keene and Cavan exchanged looks. Neither had anything to offer. There could be craft up there from just about anyone with launch capability, in who-knew-what state of desperation. This wasn’t exactly a time to be expecting everyone to be displaying rational behavior.
“The beam is definitely coming from the lead ship?” Charlie Hu queried.
“We can’t tell. . . . And apparently it’s not clear that they are receiving our signal. They’re not acknowledging, just transmitting.”
“Who is sending to you? Who do you have on your screen?” the Supervisor asked.
Idorf paused to check off-screen once more. “Dr. Stacey.”
The Supervisor looked around, puzzled. “Stacey? Who in hell’s he? . . . That’s not right. Who’s commanding the Boxcar?”
“Corlaster,” somebody said.
“That’s what I thought.”
“He says he’s the senior person aboard, and in control,” Idorf informed them.
Somebody had produced the passenger list and was scanning it frantically, but nobody had heard of the name.
“Can you copy us here with your incoming channel?” Keene said after a few more mystifying seconds. Idorf nodded and made a signal mutely to somebody. One of the technicians seated at a console near Keene read a code and entered a command. . . . And moments later, Keene found himself looking in astonishment at the features of Herbert Voler. Colby gasped somewhere behind him. Cavan was staring in disbelief. Nobody else in the room knew Voler or recognized him. Fey was to one side of him, Queal slightly to the rear on the other with the shoulder of somebody else showing next to him.
“Well, is this your man or is it not?” Idorf snapped. “Be quick. The range is closing.”
Meanwhile, Voler was imploring, “Please, if anyone there is receiving us, our situation is critical. This is Doctor Stacey, in command of Boxcar BZ650 from Vandenberg, calling Osiris. Repeat, we are being pursued by unknown craft that is armed. Suspect intention is to use us as cover to board and seize your ship. Imperative that you intervene and destroy. Your delegation is aboard with us, and their lives are in jeopardy.”
Then Voler moved to reveal the view along a cabin extending behind him. Soldiers in combat jackets were in the nearer seats. And behind them, farther toward the rear were . . . the Kronians! All of them. Keene could make out Sariena’s black tresses distinctly and, beside her, Gallian’s white crown. Clearly, the image was being faked. As much would be evident to the others in the room as well. Besides the obvious fact that Voler’s people had not been aboard the Boxcar, Sariena was wearing a green tunic, as were the others. When she went aboard the Boxcar, she had changed into freshly supplied light blue Air Force fatigues.
“This is Captain Idorf of the Osiris. We are receiving you, BZ650. Can you hear me?”
But either Voler couldn’t or was pretending not to. “This is urgent. Boxcar BZ650 from Vandenberg calling the Osiris. We are closing to dock with you. . . .” Everyone in the room was looking bewildered. The Supervisor threw his hands up helplessly. “What in hell’s going on?” he pleaded. “Who are those other people?”
“What do I do?” Idorf demanded.
Keene thought frantically. There was no reason for Voler’s group to think anyone might be monitoring this latest stunt, let alone anyone who knew them. They had banked on being able to get away with faking the image because they had presumed this encounter would involve only the Osiris. On the screen, a figure behind Voler moved aside, showing itself to be Beckerson, at the same time uncovering more of the cabin beyond. Several of the soldiers had rifles propped between their knees. The Kronians had been wearing green tunics when Mitch’s force got them out of the turboprop just after it had landed early that morning—the tunics they had been wearing since they were hijacked in Washington. The picture was a superposition of Voler and the others with him, which was genuine—they were up there now, inside one of the ships—and a background taken aboard the aircraft in which the Kronians had been flown to California the day before. The two had been combined to give the impression that the transmission Idorf was receiving was coming from the Boxcar just sent up from Vandenberg. But the ship was transmitting the Boxcar’s correct identification code. The Boxcar with the Kronians aboard was up there in orbit somewhere. It had to be the radar blip that was following.