The Chiral Conspiracy – A Military Science Fiction Thriller: A Biogenesis War Prequel (The Biogenesis War Book 0)

by L. L. Richman

  Bolting to her feet, she rapped out a quick, mental {I’m on my way,} and then cut the connection.

  As she raced to her closet, she ordered her wire to connect with the governor’s office using an emergency code she’d never had occasion to activate for something of this scale.

  C’mon, c’mon, answer already, she mentally chanted while she grabbed the first shirt her hands landed on. She heaved a sigh of relief when the connection snapped into place.

  {This better be good,} Finn Davies voice was as sleepy as she’d felt when Sanders had first contacted her.

  {It is,} she sent tersely, slipping the top over her head. {Shield failure, sector Thirty-Three.}

  She heard the quality of his mental tone change as shock washed over him. There was no hint of drowsiness in his voice when he responded.

  {I’ll notify Asato,} he said, {and get her to mobilize law enforcement, both municipal and federal. What else do you need?}

  {Let her know everyone in sector Thirty-Three needs to be removed immediately,} she replied, while shoving her legs into a pair of pants. The apartment holo began to ping and when she saw who it was, added, {Hang on, sir, my night manager’s on the house holo.}

  It made sense he’d try to contact her here; her personal wire was squawking the emergency code and couldn’t be overridden while speaking with the governor.

  Holy shit, I just put the governor on hold, she thought in a detached kind of horror as Sander’s face popped into existence. Worry drew deep grooves into his forehead, bracketing either side of his mouth as he stared back at her.

  “Talk to me. What’s going on?” she demanded, grabbing for a hair tie and pulling her unruly curls back into a ponytail.

  “Radiation levels are stable,” he began, his eyes shifting to look at something on his overlay. “No indication of imminent solar particle events, just the galactic cosmic rays we have to worry about. And the daily dose rate.”

  She nodded her understanding. “Davies is mobilizing law enforcement to help round people up and get them to designated shelters, but that’ll take time.”

  “And it’s stopgap at best, I know,” Sanders added. He sucked in a deep breath. “I’ve called in all shifts, and I reached out to Doctor Travis, too. They’ll rendezvous with us at the plant. Just wanted to let you now so you didn’t waste the time doing it yourself.”

  “Thanks. Be there in a few.” She waved the holo off and returned to her closet for a pair of boots while reconnecting with the governor. She quickly summarized Sander’s news for the man.

  {I’ll get out of your way, then, and let you get to work,} Davies replied. {Think your husband can help us out? I’m declaring that sector a state of emergency and sending Nimitz Base a formal request for assistance. Informally, ask him if the base can’t loan Asato some troops to help out.}

  {You got it, sir.}

  {Glad you pinged me, Cassandra. I assume you’re headed to City Center?}

  {I am. Building’s got a shield, so it’ll be safe to work there.}

  {Good,} he responded, and then there was a brief silence before he returned. {My security detail is here. They’re taking me to the shielded bunker at Nimitz Base. Send me regular updates, or reach out if you hit an obstacle that I can help remove.}

  {Thanks.}

  Cass scrubbed at her face as the governor disconnected, her mind running through possible scenarios to explain the system failure. Coming up with a blank, she shook her head, tossed food into a bowl for Turbo, and then exited their apartment.

  The problem gnawed at her as she made the quick trip to Midway and then City Center. Except for Thirty-Four’s fluctuation and Thirty-Two being down, the status lights had read green across the board for all tubes when she’d left just three hours earlier.

  What in all of crystalline space had just happened to Thirty-Three?

  * * *

  Three tours in the Unit had trained Ell to go from sleep to full wakefulness in a heartbeat.

  She’d not been out long enough for that particular habit to have lessened, so when one of the off-duty officers watching over Sam and Linnet reached out to her, she was instantly alert.

  {Sorry, ma'am, but we've just been pulled off the case,} he said, mental tone tinged with regret.

  Ell waved a palm over her bedside light. {I thought this had been cleared by your police chief. Do I need to run interference for you?}

  Surprise tinged the officer’s voice. {You didn’t hear? Emergency in Sector Three-Three. Magnetic sheath is down there. All available personnel have been ordered to assist with the evacuation.}

  Ell sat up. {Understood. Can you send me the codes for the remote surveillance units? I’ll head out now and take over for you.}

  {Good luck getting here,} the man warned. {All transportation's being appropriated for the emergency evac.}

  {Ah, good point. Thanks for the heads-up,} Ell replied.

  She dropped the connection and then reached out to Nimitz Base to requisition a transport, only to discover those, too, had all been seconded to Hawking law enforcement for emergency assistance.

  {Best I can do for you is a two-person flitter and a pilot in training,} the soldier at the motor pool told her.

  {I’ll take it. Can you have them ready for me in fifteen minutes?}

  {Will do, Agent Cyr,} the man assured her.

  It had been a few years since she’d opted to wear tactical gear, but her gut was singing to her, and she’d learned ages ago not to ignore that feeling.

  Her hand settled on the case that held her Drakeskin armor, keyed to her ID token. With a decisive twist, she opened it, donning the carbyne-reinforced skinsuit.

  Next came weapons, most of them concealed, except for her service pistol. The CUSP was standard-issue; it wouldn’t draw undue attention.

  Five minutes later, she was out the door of her townhouse.

  Something about the timing of all this struck her as odd.

  It’s crazy to think this shield failure is linked to Peres’s disappearance or the attempt on Thompson’s life, she told herself.

  But what if it was?

  EIGHTEEN

  Midland Plaza Hotel

  Midland

  Sam jolted awake as a priority ping overrode her wire’s sleep cycle.

  Blinking in confusion, she saw a name she vaguely recognized on her overlay. She almost dismissed it, but just then the hotel’s fire alarm started howling.

  With no hope of getting back to sleep anytime soon, she accepted the incoming call.

  {Sorry to bother you, ma’am,} the voice said, {but one of Hawking’s mag-field tubes just failed.}

  Sam’s eyes widened. {I’ll be right there.}

  “Sam?” Linnet’s sleepy voice called out from the adjoining hotel room. “What’s going on?”

  Sam’s head jerked up. She’d almost forgotten Linnet was there.

  After she’d arrived at City Center yesterday, Linnet in tow, Agent Cyr had relayed the news about the incident and had insisted the two women accept protection. They’d settled on Linnet staying at the hotel with Sam, a pair of off-duty police officers posted outside their upgraded suite.

  Her mind shied away from the surveillance devices she knew were installed at the room’s entrances and windows, additional protection against an unknown enemy.

  “Fire drill,” Sam called out belatedly, standing and shrugging into her clothes.

  Linnet muttered a protest she couldn’t make out. Sam smiled and padded over to where Linnet was sacked out. Feeling around in the dark for the room’s illumination panel, she palmed the light on.

  “Owwww, stop it!” Linnet complained, burying her head under her pillow. “You know these things are always false alarms. I’m not going down.”

  Sam dragged the coverlet off her friend. “Not this time.”

  “Nooo. Go on without me.” A hand appeared from behind the pillow, waving weakly before dropping back down to the bed. “Go on. Bye, now. Night-night.”

  Sam began to lau
gh but it was cut off abruptly when her personal dosimeter app sounded a warning.

  It was a tool so ubiquitous to her job, Sam had forgotten to turn the app off. It was set to automatically handshake with a building’s radiation detection program when she entered.

  Usually, that was any number of labs located in the Physics Laboratory at St. Clair. Upon their arrival at Hawking, the app had connected with the habitat’s mag-shield monitoring system without Sam even noticing.

  She was damned glad now that it had. A warning began to sound, alerting her to the habitat’s increased radiation levels.

  Shit. Did the guy say a tube had failed, or the shield had failed? Her pulse jolted, and she gave her friend’s shoulder a hard shake.

  “Linnet!” Sam’s voice cracked like a whip, concern lending a harsh edge to the word. “Get up. Move it!”

  Her friend shot up, grogginess vanishing as she registered the threat in Sam’s tone. “It’s really on fire?” she asked as Sam shoved her clothes at her.

  “Worse. The habitat’s magnetic shield is failing.”

  Linnet gulped and shoved her arms into her sleeves while stepping into her shoes. Snagging her bag, she followed Sam out the door.

  Their guards were nowhere in sight.

  Both women raced for the lift, but their progress was slowed when hotel guests began pouring out of rooms, ahead of them.

  “This way,” Sam turned, following the signs to the nearest stairwell. The women pushed their way through a crowd of confused and irritated guests, Linnet calling out, “Medical doctors! Make a hole!” as they ran.

  Sam slammed the mechanical door open with the flat of her hand, and began pounding down the steps.

  “Okay, so what’s the plan?” Linnet’s voice sounded winded behind her as they passed the first landing and kept going.

  “I need to help figure out what’s going on,” Sam tossed over her shoulder as she pushed at the emergency exit door.

  On the other side, she could hear the muted sound of shouts and screams, police drones broadcasting a siren followed by an evacuation order.

  She paused, looking Linnet in the eye. “You know the protocols for radiation sickness, right?”

  “You think we’ll have patients?” Linnet asked, and Sam sucked in a breath.

  “I’m not sure. It depends on the flux and the Q ratio,” she admitted. “If they’re high-Q—alphas, ions, protons—you might end up with a few. It’s more likely you’ll be treating the usual injuries associated with an evacuation. From the sounds of this mob, it’ll be strains, breaks, and the like.”

  Linnet eyed the door with some wariness. “Yeah, I can believe it.” She blew out a breath. “I’ll head for the hospital, then.”

  “Okay then. Ready?” she asked, and at Linnet’s nod, she pushed the door open and they surged into chaos.

  Sam’s first thought was to try to reach Cass as she fought her way through the rushing crowd. Her initial attempt was met by an SI that refused to connect her. Instead, it shunted her to the City Center Maintenance offices, which were currently closed.

  {Your message will be delivered to the proper authorities, in the order it was received,} the City Center SI told her. {You will not lose your place in line.}

  {Shred my place in line, you pompous piece of circuitry! I need to talk to a human, now!} she began, but the SI had already dumped her back out into Hawking’s public net.

  Clenching a fist and looking around in frustration at the mass of people on the streets, she worked her way through the crowd, angling toward City Center as she thought who to call next.

  A quick glance at the notifications on the pubnet caused her to stumble when she caught sight of the size of the evac order. It was for an eighty-kilometer-wide swath of the cylinder.

  Holy mother of all novas, she thought. That’s…sixteen thousand square kilometers of space! That has to mean a tube has failed.

  Sam kept an iron grip on Linnet’s arm, pulling her along behind her. “Keep trying to reach someone in authority!” Sam shouted to be heard over the crowd. “Pull me into the connection the minute you do. I’ll keep trying as well.”

  She spied a pair of law enforcement officers, directing people to designated radiation shelters. Both were dressed in full, powered armor.

  Good, she thought. That’ll shield them.

  She headed for the nearest one, and as she drew closer, she realized some of them had military insignias.

  “Excuse me,” she called out, but the Marine working crowd control interrupted her, ordering Sam to follow the flow of people to the nearest shelter.

  She resisted, and the Marine grabbed her roughly by the arm.

  “Sergeant!” she snapped, slamming her security token against the Marine’s personal shield. “Look at the damn ID! I’m a radiation physicist, dammit. Just pass my token along to the people up the ladder and ask them how I can help.”

  “Sorry, ma’am,” the Marine stepped back, then after a pause, waved another soldier over. “Get these two over to the task force command center, private,” she said.

  Linnet backed away from the woman and pointed to Sam. “I’m a medical doctor, headed for the hospital. She’s the one you want.”

  The soldier nodded. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.” Turning to Sam, she gestured a gauntleted hand. “This way, Doctor Travis, please.”

  Fifteen minutes later, a skimmer deposited her at Midway’s City Center, where the private handed Sam over to a pair of military MPs guarding the entrance.

  After a quick sign-in, she was ushered into a room that filled with tense, grim-faced people, all speaking softly in small groups, while glancing over their shoulders at the man and woman clearly calling the shots.

  Sam thanked the soldier escorting her and then turned to face Cass and a woman her overlay identified as Marisol Asato, Hawking’s police chief.

  “Cass,” Sam called out, lifting a hand. The engineer’s head snapped up. The police chief looked on with a frown, and gestured for a security to intercept Sam, but Cass’s hand shot out and stopped her.

  “Hey, Sam,” the relief in her voice was palpable. “Got any magical solutions you can pull out of your back pocket to patch up a hole the size of two mag-gen tubes?”

  NINETEEN

  Portsmouth Capitol

  Portsmouth

  Back in Portsmouth at the habitat’s Capitol Building, the main communications node went down under the heavy influx of messages being sent, due to the emergency evacuation underway. The backup node snapped into place seconds later, but several thousand packets were lost in the collapse.

  The officer of the watch called in extra personnel to help manage the heavy load, and she assigned a small group of them the unenviable task of filtering through the failed node to see what lost packets were recoverable.

  Half an hour later, one such lost packet resurfaced, and the specialist forwarded it to its intended destination: the personal ID token of a Doctor Linnet Thompson.

  A sniffer routine lurking in the background noticed the hidden deGrasse origin tag and flagged the message, but it was too late; the message had already been delivered.

  It changed nothing. Thompson had already been tagged for deletion.

  TWENTY

  Mercy Medical Center

  Midland

  Ell was relieved to learn Sam Travis was already safely with the emergency task force, inside the secured environs of the City Center complex. With one less person she had to worry about, she could concentrate on Doctor Thompson.

  Now all she had to do was get to the hospital.

  The spaceport was absolute chaos, the streets outside just as bad, with hundreds pushing to enter the shielded area. Tension was palpable, the people wound so tight it would take very little for them to break.

  Law enforcement felt it, too. They worked hard to keep people’s panic at bay, yet Ell could hear the strain in their own voices.

  She was the lone figure moving against the flow. Twice, Marines had motioned for h
er to stop, only to step back and wave her on when they saw ‘NCIC’ displayed as a holobadge on the front and back plates of her Drakeskin suit.

  Things went much faster once she made it past the press of people and onto an empty street that paralleled the evacuation route. She broke into an easy, ground-eating jog and soon spotted the sign for Mercy Medical.

  The hospital was one of Midland’s designated shelters, which meant there was a steady stream of people trying to get inside. Ignoring the occasional indignant shout, Ell pushed past, reaching mentally for Mercy’s hospital net the moment she was within range.

  Thompson’s ID token was a welcoming sight when she queried the system and it listed her as ‘active, on site.’ It seemed the doctor had made it to Mercy Medical Center without incident, after all.

  Ell let out a relieved breath and set out in the direction of the flashing icon indicating the doctor’s location. She stopped just short of the emergency room and peered in.

  The area was busy, with doctors, nurses, and SI orderlies moving about in a brisk, efficient manner, treating various sick and injured. Ell turned to study the area as she connected with the security SI overseeing this section of the hospital.

  Her credentials once more paved the way, and within a few minutes she was tapped into surveillance feeds and had set up a small suite of defense drones. Feeling marginally better about the safety of her charge, she began a slow perimeter sweep, analyzing possible threat vectors.

  Quinn’s call came as she began her second circuit.

  {I have news,} he announced. {DeGrasse decided they couldn’t wait any longer, but they still need someone to fill Peres’s position. They pinged to tell us they sent out offers earlier today to a couple of people, to see if they couldn’t get one of them to fill the position temporarily.}

  Something about his tone of voice warned Ell the other shoe was about to drop. {And…?} she prompted.