Ship of Ruin

by Lindsay Buroker

  By the time Rache returned from his search of the area, Yas had some results. Alarming results. His bloodwork was normal—he’d tested himself first—and so was Chief Khonsari’s. But Chaplain and the four fighters were showing the first signs of abnormal cellular damage, the same as Yas had seen in the dead scientists from the refinery.

  “We have a problem,” he said slowly, staring grimly and numbly at the microscope as Rache walked up.

  “We’ve been affected?”

  “Not everybody, not yet, but it may be only a matter of time.” Yas stepped aside and waved for Rache to peer through the microscope and see.

  “Is there a way to reverse it?”

  “I don’t even know what’s causing it. I definitely suggest leaving.”

  “Not yet,” Rache said. “I didn’t find signs of another ship having landed, certainly not one large enough to remove those gate pieces, if they were there to start with. I’ve got the men searching deeper in the labyrinth of the wreck. It’s huge, and maybe it’s possible the pieces were moved somewhere else in the ship. If they’ve simply been gone for a long time, it may be possible to find more of the circuit boards like that monkey droid held.”

  “Sir, I think staying here is a very bad idea.”

  “Noted. We won’t stay long.” Rache leaned back from the microscope. “Just long enough to complete the search. Meanwhile, if you can figure out how to give us immunity from whatever is causing this, and how to reverse the damage, that would be ideal.”

  Yas made a choking sound. “I’m sure it would, but I can’t do that with the contents of my medkit. At the least, I’d need a fully stocked lab of—”

  “There’s more medical equipment secured in those cabinets.” Rache waved to a storage area opposite the little mess.

  Frowning, Yas opened a couple of cabinets. There was a lot of equipment, far more than would have been typical on a combat shuttle.

  “You knew,” Yas whispered, unable to keep the accusation out of his voice. “You knew this was a possibility, that we’d be infected.”

  “Of course I knew it was possible. I didn’t think it likely that a pathogen originated down here, but…” Rache twitched his shoulders. “I deemed the possibility of acquiring pieces of a gate worth the risk. This find could change the course of human development and the development of the entire galaxy. And whoever holds and controls that technology would be able to direct those changes.”

  “Worth the risk?” Yas couldn’t keep his voice from rising in disbelief. “You decided that for all of us?”

  “It’s my prerogative as the commander of the Fedallah to make decisions on behalf of my crew every day, Doctor. Stop wasting time, and research how to stop this damage to the cells while we continue to search the ship.”

  “I don’t know how to do that,” Yas said.

  Rache had already been turning away, but he turned back to stare at Yas.

  “I’m a surgeon. Occasionally a toxicologist. Whatever is affecting people—killing them—isn’t a drug or a poison. I checked. I don’t know what it is. If it’s a pathogen, which I saw no sign of in any of the blood samples, I don’t know how it’s being transferred. I already investigated all this when I did the autopsy on the dead archaeologist. I didn’t know then, in the lab on your ship, and I’m not going to figure it out in some dinky field lab set up in the kitchen.” Yas flung a dismissive hand at the tiny mess area.

  Rache wasn’t moving, didn’t seem to be breathing or blinking at all behind that mask. Yas licked his lips. Had he pushed the man too far? He’d been ready to ask him for a favor after talking to Jess, but what kind of bastard would do this? Risk his own crew’s lives, and for what? Empty molds that may or may not have ever held pieces to a wormhole gate?

  “You should have kept the bacteriologist,” Yas added. “Why’d you send her to the damn refinery if you knew you were coming here and might end up infected with something?”

  “In hindsight, that was a mistake,” Rache said quietly. “I didn’t know what to expect from the bioweapon.”

  Yas hadn’t even known there had been a bioweapon. Did Rache keep anyone in his crew in the loop?

  “You think she would be better qualified than you to solve this?” Rache asked.

  “I know she would be. I mean, from what I saw of her record, she’s not a virologist, but this is far closer to her realm than mine.”

  “Very well, Doctor.” Rache opened a channel to speak with the whole team. “Chaplain, Chains, come with me. We’re taking a short trip. Chief Khonsari, join the rest of the men in the wreck and see if you can help them find some interesting technology while we’re gone.”

  “Yes, sir,” numerous people said.

  Yas, however, blurted, “Wait. Where are you going? You can’t just leave Jess and the others down there. And are you leaving me too? I can’t even get a network signal down here. If something happens to you, we’ll all be marooned.” Marooned until they ran out of air and died, which wouldn’t take very damn long…

  “Then pray nothing happens to us.” Rache headed toward the pilot’s seat. “I’m going to bring you help.”

  Yas stared at his back, realizing he’d just condemned that bacteriologist to being kidnapped. Again.

  Kim leaned over the microscope while the computer analyzed blood samples the team had taken from four different bodies. All manner of results came up for bacteria and viruses that were typical human companions and usually lay dormant, occasionally rearing up to cause some illness during times of stress. She didn’t see anything that would explain what they were seeing. As Ayik had said, these people had died of intense cellular damage, which had caused multiple systems to shut down.

  Every sample she looked at was filled with massive clumps of misfolded proteins, the kind of thing that happened over time in degenerative diseases and could be caused by age, mutations, and environmental stressors. Acute radiation poisoning was the only thing she could imagine causing such an abrupt response, but she’d had Dr. Angelico check the ship for excess radiation, and she’d checked the bodies and the galaxy suits the crew had been wearing when they’d died. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nor did the bodies have any of the outward signs of acute ionizing radiation poisoning, such as bruises, bleeding, and hair loss. On the cellular level, the damage was more akin to what one might expect to develop over time from slow doses of non-ionizing radiation. But these people had all died in days.

  Kim leaned back and rubbed her lower back. Her head throbbed, reminding her it had been a long time since her last cup—make that squishy bulb—of coffee.

  She craved espresso shots from The Roasting Tree on campus back home. She could imagine the rich velvety coffee caressing her tongue, making her feel alert and alive as it warmed her throat. God, she missed her life. As it was, she would probably have to find some caffeinated booster in sickbay so she wouldn’t have to deal with withdrawal symptoms while she was trying to work. She couldn’t keep herself from giving the microscope a disgusted sneer.

  “How’s it going, Kim?” Angelico ambled into the lab she had claimed and leaned an elbow against the counter.

  She hadn’t invited him to use her first name and bristled inwardly at the familiarity, but she reminded herself social conventions did not matter now. “I’m aching for a good cup of coffee, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure we’re not dealing with a viral or bacterial infection.”

  She wished they were because that would have been far more in her wheelhouse than this. Not only was she mystified as to what was causing this; she wasn’t sure how to stop or reverse the damage. Might some of the proven anti-aging therapies out there help? And if so, would this research ship have any of the equipment necessary? People typically went to specialized medical spas for treatments.

  “Coffee,” Angelico said. “There’s an addiction if I ever met one. You should wean yourself off it. Why rely on exogenous substances to feel normal?”

  “Because they taste good. Can I help you with something
?”

  “Sikou wants a blood sample from you. She’s taking them from everyone on the team to see if we’ve been infected. Or, if you’re right, I guess it would be affected?”

  Kim wondered why he used Sikou’s last name and presumed to use her first name. Then she wondered why it bothered her.

  “I’ll go see her in a minute,” Kim said.

  She’d thought of testing herself earlier, as soon as she’d realized that her hazmat suit wasn’t likely to do anything to stop this, but a part of her didn’t want to know. It would be easier to do research and think clearly if she wasn’t worrying about her own impending death.

  All she’d wanted when she’d asked Casmir and the others to head this way was to find her mother. How had she gotten herself tangled up in all this?

  “I’ll let her know.” Angelico stepped closer and rested a hand on her shoulder. “If you do like coffee, there’s this place on the Odin Orbital Station with all these pools and waterfalls and trees that serves all manner of fancy drinks. You can sit and have a great view of the planet while you imbibe your chosen poison. They’ve got great green smoothies too—those are my stardust. Super healthy, you know. We should go have a drink sometime after we survive all this. Take in the views, chat about work. Or recreation.” He smiled and squeezed her shoulder.

  She stared at him in disbelief. Was he hitting on her while there were corpses in the other room and they were trying to keep more people from dying? Why? He couldn’t even have a good idea of what she looked like through her suit and faceplate.

  “After this, I’m looking forward to enjoying the views of Odin from Odin. Thanks.”

  He chuckled. “Maybe you’ll give me a chance to change your mind later.” He patted her on the shoulder, letting his hand linger for intolerable seconds, then winked and ambled back out.

  Kim decided that was a good excuse to step into the lab’s little sanitation room so she could thoroughly decontaminate before doing a quick blood draw. She may have scrubbed her shoulder more than necessary.

  When she was done, she checked her blood herself, trying for her usual calm detachment as the test ran. It was just another blood sample. No reason for the moon rocks of dread weighing down her stomach.

  Relief flowed through her veins when her blood didn’t show any more than normal signs of aging, at least not yet. Was it possible that only people who went down to the wreck were affected?

  No, according to Ayik, the crew members who’d died here on the ship hadn’t gone down there. They were the ones Angelico had used for his autopsies. Kim wondered if they had all had contact with the returning team. Unless she went over all of the ship’s internal camera footage for the last week, that would be hard to discern. The only people left living on the Machu Picchu had been locked up in quarantine when that team returned to the ship.

  “Scholar Sato?” Sikou said from the doorway to the lab. “Did Dr. Angelico—”

  “Yes, I just tested my blood.” Kim waved to the display. “It’s negative, so far. I can send you the results.”

  “Good. The people inside the quarantine still read as normal too. As does our team. Let’s hope that continues.” Sikou frowned and looked toward the exit to sickbay, then held up a finger and left.

  Kim followed her out to the corridor and looked in the same direction. She hadn’t heard anything, but noticed the marine who’d stationed himself at the door was gone.

  An alarm wailed, and red lights flashed.

  “Security is compromised,” the ship announced in a female voice. “Weapons fire is taking place in the corridors. Security, dispatch a team to sickbay.”

  If the entire crew was in quarantine or dead, there was no security team to be dispatched.

  Sikou cursed and stepped back into the lab, waving Kim to go with her.

  “Roark, report,” Sikou said.

  A boom sounded, and the deck shivered.

  “Was that an explosive?” Kim looked around for something she might use as a weapon. Unfortunately, she didn’t see anything deadlier than small scissors and scalpels. Both would be useless against combat armor.

  “Roark,” Sikou shouted this time. “Report!”

  Two men in black combat armor charged into sickbay. Shit. Those weren’t Kingdom Fleet colors.

  Another explosion reverberated through the walls, much closer this time. Shards flew, and Kim glimpsed a blue-armored man skidding across the deck outside, arms flailing, a blackened hole yawning in the chest of his armor. That was one of the marines. He struck the wall and didn’t get up.

  One of the black-armored intruders sprang through the doorway and into her lab. Sikou scurried out of the way, pressing her back to the counter. The intruder didn’t seem to notice her. He lunged for Kim.

  She sprang to the side, but he moved faster than should have been possible, and he caught her shoulder, a steel grip latching onto her suit. She cried out in anger and slammed a palm strike into his side. It hurt her hand far more than it hurt him through that armor, but she hardly cared. She struck again, trying to knock him back so she could twist away and flee into the bowels of the ship.

  But he didn’t let go. He hoisted her over his shoulder and strode out of the lab.

  She twisted enough to slam her elbow into the back of her captor’s helmet, but she didn’t get so much as a surprised grunt. The arm wrapped around her tightened, and she could barely breathe. Her captor strode through the deserted corridors, passing charred and warped bulkheads.

  “I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” Kim gritted out, reluctantly accepting that her martial-arts training was worthless on someone protected by combat armor, “but everyone on this ship is afflicted with some killer disease that can pass through galaxy suits and combat armor. You’re an idiot for coming here.”

  “Really,” came her captor’s dry reply.

  It was a familiar dry reply, though it took her a moment to place the voice. It almost sounded like Casmir. Casmir with a more cultured Kingdom accent.

  Kim groaned. “I was hoping I’d never see you again.”

  “How distressing for my ego.” Rache set her down in front of an airlock hatch but kept his hand around her neck, the pressure of his grip all too noticeable through her hazmat suit. A normal human might not have been able to hurt her through it, since it was as strong as the material used in galaxy suits, but he wasn’t normal. “Any chance you’d like to come along voluntarily, so I don’t feel like an ass for kidnapping you?”

  “You’re asking me this with your hand around my neck?” she asked in disbelief, her fingers curling into fists. She wished she knew one vulnerable spot on that armor, as she would gladly risk herself for a chance to send him flying. “After you just killed the marines sent along to protect us?”

  “I suppose my timing could be better.”

  “You are an idiot. I don’t know how that could be possible, all things considered, but it’s as clear as Glasnax.”

  “An idiot who needs a doctor to help his men down at the wreck.”

  The wreck? The wreck where her mother had last been seen? She did want to go down and look for her, but not before she found a solution to their medical mystery and not with some murdering pirate.

  A second man in black armor jogged up. “Nobody’s coming after us, Captain. Made sure of it.”

  “Good.” Rache waved him through the open hatch into a shuttle. “Scholar Sato?”

  “I’m not volunteering, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Unfortunate.” He lifted her and spun her toward the shuttle.

  Furious at the manhandling, even if her suit protected her from injury, she twisted in the air, coiled her legs, and slammed a side kick into his chest. She knew it wouldn’t hurt him, but she trusted that he needed her alive, and it felt good to protest. Childish, but good.

  “She’s feisty for a doctor,” one of Rache’s men commented.

  There were two of them in the shuttle, each carrying weapons that looked more li
ke cannons than guns. They’d probably been designed to take down aircraft. Or men in combat armor.

  Kim shook her head bleakly as Rache, unbothered by her mighty kick, strapped her into one of the two front seats. She wondered if Dr. Sikou or anybody else who’d come over with her was left alive. Not certain where she was going or how long she would have reception, she thought about sending Casmir a short message, but she knew he would worry.

  6

  Casmir woke up with a pounding headache and stared up at a gray ceiling, confused. Where was he? He wanted to be home, with his mother taking care of him, but unfortunately, awareness returned quickly, and he remembered where he was. And that he’d had an allergic reaction to the drug he’d so wisely volunteered to take, and broken into a wheezing hive-speckled mess in front of the cute nurse. How lovely.

  The nurse’s concerned face came into view, and she touched his shoulder. “How do you feel?”

  “Alive,” he croaked. His throat hurt, but at least it wasn’t swelling shut anymore.

  “That’s good. You scared me.” She smiled quickly, but the worry didn’t fade from her eyes. “Doctors Sikou and Angelico are over on the other ship, and I didn’t know… I mean, I’ve administered epinephrine and diphenhydramine for allergic reactions, of course, but then you had a seizure.”

  “Yeah.” Casmir patted her arm, wondering what it said that he needed to comfort her. Just that he was used to his life, and she wasn’t, he supposed. “Like I said, Rache took my meds.”

  “You should have told me that you’re prone to seizures.”

  “You didn’t ask. And I wanted the drug to work, so I could clear my name. It’s been a very confusing month, and I think the authorities are, unfortunately, even more confused than I am. Uhm, you don’t, by chance, have some rivogabine in here, do you? I can print off my prescription for you if you need it.” He made a vague gesture toward his embedded chip.

  “I’ll check the inventory, but people with seizure disorders aren’t allowed into the military, so I’m not sure…”