Fractured Mind Episode One (A Galactic Coalition Academy Series)

by Odette C. Bell

  Chapter 7

  Sarah Sinclair

  It wasn't hard to get hired at the floating bar. She was attractive, by human standards. And though that shouldn't count for anything in this modern galaxy, it still did.

  At least to certain people.

  Her new boss, Frank – a massive Morxian – seemed relatively nice. Though he had a booming voice and the kind of massive form that made it seem as if he wrestled with cruisers, he didn't hesitate in giving her a job. He spent five minutes giving her the lowdown on the clients, then set her to work in her own pod.

  If she stayed with the bar for a year, she'd get a bigger pod, a better salary, too.

  Right now, she was content that she'd fallen back on her feet.

  She rolled up the sleeves of her tunic, pushed to one knee, and plunged a hand into the matter recalibration unit under the counter.

  It was on the blink.

  Above her, the bar began to fill with patrons. Of every color, of every shape, of every size, of every race.

  It was an education in the Milky Way.

  As Sarah shifted onto her stomach and pulled herself under the counter to get a better look at the matter calibration unit, she took the opportunity to pull up her communicator.

  She checked the screen once more.

  Nothing.

  No call from Nora.

  An uneasy feeling started to settle in her gut, pushing down until it felt as if her legs would turn numb.

  Why wasn't Nora calling?

  Surely the yellow alert had just been a drill. Surely it was over by now?

  ... Nora hadn't changed her mind, had she?

  Before Sarah could dwell too much on her thoughts, the recalibration unit buzzed back into life.

  She shuffled out from under the bench, pushed to her feet, and began serving drinks.

  There was a holo unit up in the far corner of her section of the bar. It kept cycling through various galactic sports. Every 10 minutes or so, it would play the latest Coalition news.

  She locked her eyes on it as another news cycle began.

  Commodity prices. Some kind of disturbance in the Orion Sector. The upcoming Senate elections.

  But nothing on the Academy.

  Though Sarah wanted to throw herself into her work – wanted to use it to distract herself – she kept latching a hand onto her left shoulder.

  Onto that exact point where it felt as if something was buried under her skin.

  It felt as if that thing was pulsing. Vibrating as if it were engorged on energy.

  It was a truly distracting sensation, and she couldn't help but dig her fingers into her flesh as she unconsciously tried to extract it.

  She gritted her teeth, pushing her fingers even harder into her shoulder as she grabbed a drink with one hand and handed it to a patron.

  Suddenly she heard someone clear their throat from behind her.

  She didn't need to turn to see that it was Frank. He had such a massive form that his looming body cut out most of the light.

  She twisted her head and politely cleared her throat. “Can I help you?”

  “Bothering you?” Frank pointed at her shoulder.

  She pressed her lips together and dropped her gaze. “It's an old injury... an... implant that can't be removed properly,” she added.

  When Sarah had decided to strike out and start her new life, she'd promised herself one thing – she would keep her dreams and her condition to herself.

  She was now certain that there was no one out there who could help her. And if she managed her own symptoms, she knew she could keep her condition under wraps.

  The dreams would never stop. She was coming to terms with that. And as for that niggling tingling sensation in her shoulder, she was determined to find new ways to distract herself from it.

  So why the hell had she just told Frank the truth? Or at least part of the truth?

  Frank nodded. He plunged one of his massive eight-fingered hands into the utility belt around his middle. A second later he plucked out some kind of modified scanner.

  He handed it to her. “Use this. Could help.” With that, he turned on one of his massive feet and lumbered away.

  She blinked in surprise. Though she was certain the scanner couldn't help her, that didn't stop her from frowning as she mulled over the controls.

  A second later she realized it was programmed to emit a localized jamming signal on any number of programmable frequencies.

  She shrugged, digging her free hand into her shoulder as that tingling sensation grew worse and worse.

  What did she have to lose?

  Taking a few steps away from the crowded bar as one of the other barmen stood forward to take her place, she soon figured out how to work the scanner.

  And she used it.

  ...

  Lieutenant Karax

  Anarchy.

  Pure goddamn anarchy.

  Hell on Earth.

  Sora was unstoppable.

  He'd managed to pull the Admiral into a nearby room as a full security detachment had taken Sora on.

  But they wouldn't win. Couldn't.

  She obliterated them.

  He was pressed close to the door, ear against it as he tried to listen through the reinforced metal and figure out what was happening outside.

  In the corner of the room, Admiral Forest worked frantically. The room was some kind of office. She'd found a desk, and she was currently underneath it as she frantically pulled out the guts of its computer.

  It wouldn't count for anything.

  Karax knew that.

  Karax knew they had seconds.

  No matter how many security guards threw themselves at Sora, she would rip through them all.

  Then she'd come for the Admiral.

  “Almost there, almost there,” the Admiral spat.

  He turned his pressured stare toward her, one hand pressed against the metal, his fingers leaving sweaty tracks down the smooth silver.

  She was trying to cut through the communications blackout to get a message to the outside world.

  The traders had taken near complete control of the Academy systems.

  Karax watched her for a few heart-pounding seconds until he wrenched his gaze around and stared at the door.

  Just in time.

  Half a second later it opened.

  He pushed away, striking his back and rolling backward onto his feet.

  He stared up at Sora.

  Blood – real blood – was splattered over her armor.

  It dripped down her chest and arms, pooled at her feet.

  But it wasn't hers.

  She brought up that rotating gun, the pulsing, flashing tip directed right at him.

  He could try to push forward, try to shove into her, try to kick, try to strike, but what was the point?

  Instead, he stared up into that helmet and waited.

  Just as she stretched her hand back and locked it on the trigger, she appeared to hesitate.

  For a second.

  For a second where his life hung before his eyes, every memory, every regret, all flashing into his mind with the rapidity of bullets.

  He had time for his eyes to widen, for his heart to stop, for his sweat to turn to ice as it slicked down his back.

  Then she fired.

  ....

  Her aim wasn't true.

  Just at the last second, her shoulder yanked to the side, pulling the gun out of alignment and seeing the bullet sink into the floor by his hand.

  The heat was enough to instantly scorch and bubble the skin up his wrist, but it didn't tear through his face and slice him in half.

  Sora began to thrash.

  A stifled scream cracked from her mouth as she dropped the gun, staggered to one knee, and clutched her left shoulder. That odd black triangle sunk into her armor, to be precise.

  She began to dig at it, gouge at it as if she were desperately trying to excavate it.

  By now the Admiral was on her feet.
/>
  She had time to shoot Karax a stunned silent look before another scream tore from Sora's mouth.

  She lurched forward.

  Karax thought she was going for her gun, so he got there first and kicked it out of the way.

  It didn't matter. Not only did the holographic gun suddenly disappear, but she wasn't even clutching for it.

  Instead, she grabbed a chair, snapped the leg off in a jerked move, and began slamming it against that odd triangle in her shoulder.

  Blow after blow, scream after scream issuing from her throat.

  “What the hell is happening?” the Admiral croaked.

  Karax knew better than to think this was a chance to dispatch Sora. Sure, he could try to find a weapon, try to open a window and throw her out – but it would mean nothing.

  She was light. As long as the holo emitters that sustained her were still online, her program could be recalled and restarted at any point.

  It was the Academy's distributed computer network that was their true enemy, not Sora as she convulsed at his feet, trying to tear that triangle out of her shoulder.

  She kept striking her shoulder, kept clutching whatever weapon she could find until her combined attack began to shatter her armor. Fissure lines struck down her shoulder plating, deep into her chest plate and up into her helmet.

  He stood there, ramrod straight, half a meter back, fingers covered in sweat, heart pounding through his chest. Maybe he should use the opportunity to slip past Sora and tear away, but something locked him to the spot.

  That something kept him there long enough to see those fracture lines march all the way across her helmet.

  As he sucked a sharp breath deep into his lungs, her helmet shattered.

  It fell into chunks by her feet.

  And he saw her face.

  ....

  Sarah Sinclair.

  It was Cadet Sarah Sinclair.

  It was... it was... it was Cadet goddamn Sarah Sinclair.

  So much surprise slammed into his gut it felt as if it would curl arms around his middle and throw him out the window.

  His breath was locked in his chest, a cold, terrifying sensation leaping down his shoulders and sinking into his hands.

  She kept digging at her shoulder. Trying to gouge something from the skin.

  She ignored him and the Admiral completely.

  A second later, she pushed to her feet and began ramming her shoulder into the wall. Choked screams kept issuing from her closed off throat as she jammed her shoulder harder and harder into the wall, the whole room shaking from the force of each terrifying blow.

  His lips cracked open. “Sarah? Sarah? It's me, Karax.”

  If she could hear him, she made no move to acknowledge his presence.

  She was fixated on her task. It looked like she was trying to remove her entire shoulder. If she'd had access to a bone saw, he was sure she would have lopped it off.

  She began to slow down. Her movements became gradually less violent as if she were growing too tired to perform them.

  Eventually, she stopped altogether, slumping against the wall, head tilting to one side, eyes never closing as they locked their dead stare on the floor.

  He couldn't help but plunge down to one knee, lock a hand on her shoulder, and stare into her face. “Sarah—”

  Just before he could fear this was the real thing – that she was somehow Sarah Sinclair – the hologram began to crack up, lines of light flicking through it.

  The Admiral locked a hand on his shoulder, jerked him to his feet, and shoved him toward the door. “We have to get out of here while we still have a chance.”

  “But Sarah—”

  “If you are referring to Cadet Sinclair, I very much doubt that's her. We need to get out of here.”

  “What the hell is happening?” he demanded as he followed her out into the corridor.

  The Admiral wheezed through a pained breath as her gaze locked on the destruction waiting for them outside.

  Numerous security officers were injured, if not dead.

  Though the sight slammed through him like a blow to his jaw, Karax didn't hesitate to lurch down and grab up a gun. “What the hell is happening?” he demanded again through clenched teeth. “That thing in there... it looks like—”

  “I have no goddamn idea, Lieutenant. But we have to find out before it tears through the Academy.” The Admiral led him forward. Rather than power down the corridor and try their chances with one of the lifts, she headed toward a relatively plain section of wall.

  Before he could ask what she was doing, she brought a hand up and pressed it flat against a nondescript section of the cream wall.

  “What are you—” he didn't bother finishing his sentence.

  A second later, a door formed right out of the wall.

  The Admiral pointed him forward with a stiff movement of her now white and completely bloodless hand.

  They both shunted through the door just in time. Behind they could hear footsteps.

  Though it was just a guess, Karax knew it was the traders. No doubt come to check on their broken hologram.

  Hologram....

  Sarah...?

  His mind couldn't catch up.

  It kept locking on the second Sarah's helmet had fallen off her face.

  He could even remember the distinct clink, clink, clink as the broken sections of metal plating had fallen by her feet.

  But that was nothing to mention the look she'd given him as she'd stared up into his eyes.

  Total and complete desperation.

  Fear the likes of which no ordinary human should ever experience.

  The door in the wall closed behind them before the traders shot into view. It remained open just long enough for Karax to twist and see their distinct brown cloaks.

  Once it was closed, the Admiral didn't pause, she pointed him forward.

  They appeared to be in some kind of narrow tunnel. Though his first instinct was to say it was some kind of maintenance shaft, he quickly realized that couldn't be the case.

  For one, there hadn't been an access port on that wall, or at least not a visible one. For another, as he concentrated, he realized he couldn't see any of the usual equipment you would associate with a maintenance shaft.

  Rather, this was a tunnel. Obviously a secret one.

  They both ran in silence, footfall reverberating through the metal floor.

  Though it was hard and strong and loud, it couldn't compare with his thundering heart.

  He'd never felt fear as distinct and all-encompassing as this since he'd left his home world.

  After a few minutes of running, they entered a room.

  It had no windows and was unadorned, its only decoration several metal crates stacked up neatly in a corner.

  “What is this place?” He calmed his panting breath long enough to push his words from his stiff lips.

  “There are tunnels like this throughout the entire Academy now. We had them installed, in secret, after the Axira incident. After it became clear that the Academy was no longer the haven we'd once foolishly believed it was.”

  “Where do they lead to?”

  “If you follow them, and you know what you're doing, they can lead you right under the city and out into an abandoned section of forest 70 km away. If you don't know what you're doing, you will trip a security alarm, and be transported straight to the brig.”

  “... I take it you know what you're doing, Admiral?”

  She didn't answer.

  That wasn't good enough for Karax.

  As the Admiral scooted down to one knee and began to open one of the crates, he crossed his arms. “No more lies. No more appeals to the chain of command. What the hell is happening? And how in the hell could you let it get this far? Those traders have complete access to our holographic—”

  She put up a hand.

  A part of him wanted to ignore it. But somewhere within the storm of anger swirling in his gut, a scrap of reason remained.

/>   It gave her the time to pull something out of the crate, turn, and face him with a stony expression. “I have no idea how this happened. Whether you choose to believe it or not, Lieutenant, I too appreciated the risks of acquiring this technology. And I will now freely admit to you that I had my suspicions that the Corthanx Traders were still working with the Barbarian Empire.”

  Before he could react – go with the anger that flared in his gut, and start shouting – she brought up another stiff, white hand. She spread her fingers, her knuckles moving hard under the skin, the tendons pronounced streaks of white that pushed all the way into her wrists. “Yes, I deceived you.”

  He clenched his teeth together and pared back his lips. “Why?”

  “Because I wanted you on this job. Knew you were the best. But also knew you wouldn't play along if you thought you were working with a group that benefited the Barbarians.”

  “You were goddamn right, Admiral,” He couldn't unclench his teeth. It would have taken a blow to the face with a crowbar to separate his clenched jaw. “And so was I. All along. We should never have trusted the traders. We should never have given them access to our systems.”

  “We didn't. Not directly. And before you go questioning why we risked this, there's something you need to know – we are losing.”

  There was something so direct about her statement, something so shocking about the look she followed it up with, that for a second his anger ground to a halt. It settled into an uneasy confusion that loomed over his back like hands ready to grasp his throat.

  He peeled his lips open. “What are you talking about?”

  For a second she said nothing. She kept staring at him with that unsettling, terrifying look. “We are losing against the Ornax. The Coalition has mostly been able to keep it under wraps for now, but that won't last. It can't. The more we fight them, the more they apparently learn about us, and the more undefeatable they become. In the last two weeks alone we have lost three heavy cruisers and 16 other ships. I'll let you figure out how many lives that is.”

  “... What?”

  The Admiral brought up a hand and pressed her messy hair from her eyes. “There is nothing we can do against them. We can't even begin to understand the way they fight. And every day that passes is a day they push further into our territory. They haven't pushed into full out war yet, but they will,” her tone dropped, seemed to sink through the room as if her ominous words had the weight of a stone. “At the moment it's clear they are learning as much about us as they can. When they are finished, they will attack. And there is nothing we can do against them. So that, Lieutenant, is why we risk this. We have already confirmed that the Corthanx Traders were not lying. That the Sora program really is Ornax technology. We knew the importance of obtaining it. But we also knew the risk. And we acted to mitigate. I had my best, most trustworthy officers working on this. They shadowed the traders, followed their every move. And no – I never gave them access to our computer systems.”

  Though Karax's gaze had sunk toward the floor, he now snapped it up and stared at her. “So how did this happen?”

  It was the Admiral's turn to drop her gaze. The thick veneer that usually hid her true feelings cracked. What he saw within was not something he expected.

  A person. Just an ordinary woman in an extraordinary situation.

  Admirals were always larger than life. They had to be to shoulder the responsibility they carried.

  But underneath that, they were still just people.

  And people, no matter their race or species, always make mistakes.

  Especially when they have a gun to their head.

  Though his thoughts roiled at everything he'd just learned, there was one fact that was ever-present in his mind. His body, too. It locked every muscle with such tension it was like it was slowly turning him to stone.

  He took an unavoidable step forward. “What the hell does this have to do with Sarah Sinclair? That hologram looks exactly like her.”

  The Admiral appeared to freeze. Her gaze locked on the floor, and he could tell her mind span behind her fixed eyes.

  She shook her head and clenched her teeth, the move so hard he could see the muscles down into her neck knotting.

  It reminded him of what the hologram had done to its neck. The way it had dug at that left triangle in its armor.

  Instantly he remembered that Sarah had done almost the exact same thing. Though she hadn't gone to the extent of breaking off a chair leg and trying to gouge out her flesh, she'd always poked and pried at it until a permanent scar had appeared.

  He shivered, such a cold sensation tracing down his back it felt like an icy hand clutched around his heart.

  “I can't give you an answer, Lieutenant, because I have no idea what's going on. Perhaps that hologram only resembles Cadet Sinclair—”

  He shook his head. It felt as if he could snap the thing right off and throw it at the Admiral. “It's her. Admiral, it's got to be her. The real Sarah always had a problem with that side of her neck, too.”

  “That means very little, Lieutenant. As much as I hate to admit this, we simply don't know enough about the Corthanx Traders or this technology. Perhaps they simply programmed Sora to resemble Sarah in order to disrupt you. You appear to know her well. Perhaps they knew that—”

  “That makes no sense. I've barely had anything to do with Sarah. Granted,” he swallowed involuntarily, “I know her, but there are any other number of staff within the Academy who I know better. If they were programming the hologram to disrupt us, they could have chosen anyone.”

  “We don't know anything for sure—”

  “Except Sora is meant to be some kind of true intelligence hologram. What if she's not a hologram?”

  “She's made of light and sustained by holographic emitters,” the Admiral's tone hardened, and yet, though she spoke through clenched teeth, he could still see a glint of uncertainty flaring in her gaze.

  He latched hold of it. “Granted, I'll admit she's a hologram. But where does its true intelligence come from? I tried to look at the trader's code. They wouldn't let me, but I tried to isolate a section of Sora's program and delve as deep into the code as I could. It was unlike any holographic program I've ever seen. There was no AI written into it.”

  “My best engineers looked at the program, too, but I couldn't find anything wrong with it.”

  “Your best engineers?” he spluttered. “Aren't you starting to suspect they turned on you? If you're so adamant that the Corthanx Traders did not obtain access to our systems, then how in the hell did they overtake the Academy?” He was way beyond insubordinate now. If he was an Admiral and some upstart Lieutenant was speaking to him like this, they would be out on their ear.

  Though the Admiral's jaw hardened, she didn't demand his immediate expulsion from the Academy. Instead, she darted her gaze to the floor, half closed her eyes, and shook her head. “Of course that thought has crossed my mind, and others.”

  She appeared to hesitate, as if she was wondering whether to tell him something.

  He pressed forward. “Admiral, what is it?”

  “The Academy has never been the same since the Axira incident. Members of our own unit turned against us. There were spies in the top brass.” She hesitated once more.

  And it struck him. “And there are still spies within the top brass, aren't there?”

  Slowly she nodded her head. “I thought I'd rooted them out. Now this incident makes me realize I haven't. Just when I think I'm getting on top of the division within our ranks, a new fissure opens up.”

  He paled. It felt as if his cheeks became so cold and stiff they'd never move again. If he tried to speak, let alone smile, he could shatter his face and it would fall to his feet.

  “There are enemies within the Coalition?”

  Slowly she met his gaze. “There have always been enemies within the Coalition. Especially now. Especially as we quicken toward the final battle.”

  His stomach lurched. “The f
inal battle?”

  She would not blink, would not drop his gaze. In fact, it became all the more intense as she took a step toward him, her boots resounding against the metal floor. “There is an enemy beyond our space.”

  He jerked his head back and shook it at her confusing statement. “What on earth does that mean? Beyond our space?”

  “Outside this universe,” she now spoke so stiffly it half sounded as if her words could shatter like glass. “It's coming,” she added in a harsh breath. “It's coming.”

  Nerves. Fear. True fright. They came upon him all at once, dousing his back as if somebody had thrown him into the ocean.

  He began to shake his head again.

  The Admiral shook her own. Once. Stiffly. “None of that matters right now. The only thing that matters is you getting out of here and figuring out what's going on, Lieutenant.”

  “I'm not going to leave you behind,” he began.

  She brought up a stiff hand and practically stuck it straight in his face. “You are. You will. I have to stay behind, have to do what I can. But you have to follow this route—” she brought up her WD, typed something into it, and sent it to his wrist device. “—and get the hell out of here,” she spoke through a clenched jaw, her lips barely parting, her teeth nothing more than white flashes that accentuated her hard, stiff words. “We don't have much time, Lieutenant. The Corthanx Traders will eventually figure out these tunnels exist, especially when they realize I've suddenly disappeared. You have to get out of here, and you have to find out what's going on.”

  He wanted to protest. There was still more he had to know. Still more she had to answer. Though she'd already told him how this had happened, he still couldn't understand it, still couldn't understand how the Academy, let alone Admiral Forest, could let this happen.

  As he stared into her determined gaze, he realized she wasn't going to give in. She pointed a stiff finger toward the tunnel behind them. “Follow that. I've sent you the map. Now get the hell out of this city. Figure out what's going on and keep in contact.”

  “What?” His brow dug deep against his eyes.

  She brought a hand up and tapped her WD. “Figure out what's going on and contact the correct authorities. Also keep in contact with me.”

  “How? The communications system is down.”

  She shook her head. “I managed to make an independent connection between your WD and mine. Theoretically, when you try to contact me, I should be able to find a way to bypass the jam on the system.”

  He shook his head, barely understanding a single word. “But, Admiral—”

  “Just go,” she said, words like hisses. “We don't have much time.” She turned her head and focused her gaze back through the tunnel.

  As if to prove her point, he suddenly heard a thump that reverberated all the way through the floor. It seemed to sink hard into his heart, seemed to clutch two hands around the muscle and shake it.

  He took a snapped step back, cheeks paling and feeling as cold as the heart of a glacier. “Admiral—”

  “Just go, Lieutenant.”

  Though he began to shake his head, another bang reverberated down the corridor. Before he knew what he was doing, he turned on his foot and speed forward.

  “Go,” the Admiral called one last time before her voice cut out.

  The Lieutenant turned over his shoulder and stared at her until he was out of sight.

  He shifted his head forward and pumped his arms at his sides, pushing his muscles as fast as they would go.

  No, this couldn't be happening. Events were spiraling out of control like a burnt up cruiser free falling through the atmosphere.

  He jerked up his WD, manipulating it as he never stopped running, his boots pounding on the floor, every step echoing around him like the thump of a hammer against an anvil.

  There were far too many questions vying for his attention, but no matter what he thought about, no matter how often his mind tried to jerk back to the Admiral's insistence, his thoughts always skipped back to Sarah.

  Sarah. That hologram had resembled her perfectly.

  What the hell was going on?

  He sprinted around another corner, jerking up his WD to check his route.

  At one point he almost took the wrong turn, but stopped just in time, boots screeching against the floor as he grabbed a lip of metal and shifted direction.

  Perhaps the Admiral had overstated things when she'd said taking the wrong route would end up tripping some security system and getting him transported to the brig. Perhaps she hadn't.

  He couldn't afford to take any risks. He had absolutely no idea what was happening in the rest of the academy. The sinking feeling in his gut told him it couldn't be good. The Corthanx Traders had been too smart in their attack, too well prepared.

  Even if the Sora program had failed somehow, they would still have a stranglehold on the Academy's main computers. For all Karax knew, the traders could've rounded up every last member of staff and every last student by now. They were too powerful to underestimate. So there was every possibility that he was the last member of the Academy left on the run. It would be up to him to make it out and raise the alarm.

  ... Then what? Would the Coalition forces on the rest of the planet push their way into the Academy and take the grounds back? At what cost? Sure, he didn't know that much about the traders, but he could guess that if they had hostages, they wouldn't shy away from killing them to make a point.

  The tunnel system was long. Had to be. Not only did it wind its way through Academy grounds, but according to the Admiral and his wrist device, eventually it would take him underneath the city and far out to some secluded section of forest.

  It would take hours at his top sprint to make it that far, and he knew he didn't have hours. Fortunately, however, he soon came across some kind of transport substation, within which was a special kind of hover bike.

  He wasted no time in pulling it out of its recess, vaulting on top, and revving the engine.

  Then Lieutenant Karax hunched over the handlebars, sweaty brow pressing close to the sleek metal, a single expletive splitting from his lips as he gunned the bike and shot forward.

  The Academy had been attacked.

  He'd left the Admiral behind.

  The traders would have tens of thousands of hostages. And somewhere, somewhere out there was Sarah Sinclair.

  He had to get to her before it was too late.

  ...

  Admiral Forest

  She didn't make a single movement until Lieutenant Karax was well and truly out of sight, the faint reverberating thumps of his footfall no longer audible.

  When it was clear she was on her own she moved.

  Admiral Forest sat down. She reached past the collar of her uniform and drew out the device.

  She waved a hand over it.

  Her expression was now blank.

  She tilted her head to the side, hand now stuck in the air as the device turned on.

  The small flat disc of metal had sat close to her skin under her top – indiscernible from the outside. Now it bulged as it turned on, the metal warping in and out as if something was breathing from deep within it.

  Her expression remained blank. Her hand still hovered in the air.

  Her mind was blank, all thoughts far away. Held back. By a wall.

  The device stopped bulging and settled down into a single form.

  A small, perfect metal cube.

  It let out a beam of blue light from its top. The beam of light was as thin as a pin, yet strong enough that it pushed all the way to the ceiling above.

  Her body was hunched over, muscles locked in the same position, never moving.

  “What now?” she asked in a raspy tone.

  “Wait,” the device instructed her, its strange far-off tone issuing from nowhere in particular.

  “Until?”

  “Until we find out what will happen next.”

  With that promise echoing in her dead mind, the A
dmiral rested back on her haunches. She sat down, crossed her legs, settled her hands on her lap, and locked her far-off gaze on the wall.

  And she waited.

  As instructed, to see what would happen next.