Jim shook his head. “No way. Stephanie gave her enough poison to kill a horse.”
The woman shrugged. “Things can go wrong. Who knows? She was certainly near death when she arrived. I’d call it a miracle that she survived long enough for them to get her on a respirator. And they have some kind of machine to clean the blood, remove the nerve agents. Something I’m not familiar with, but apparently it worked.”
Now Jim looked at the doctor more closely. She was about five feet six inches tall, stoutly built, with short black hair - almost a military cut. He didn’t recognize her.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Jill Bartlett,” she replied. “I was on the third slave ship, the one that left from San Francisco.”
“How on earth did you get here?” Jim asked.
“They pulled a bunch of us out of the slave complex on Deriko just as we landed. We all had medical training of some kind. They shipped us here and forced us to set up a medical facility for humans.”
“There are other humans here?”
“Yes. Forty total, I think. Two doctors, three nurses. Thirty-five prisoners.”
“Where did they get the prisoners?”
“Captured from the rebel force on Deriko, or from damaged or destroyed ships during the battles. They torture them for information. Or sometimes just for the hell of it.”
Jim was overwhelmed and confused. He sat down in the chair again, trying to think.
“You have to get her out of here,” said Jill. “And soon.”
“What?” asked Jim.
“She’s going to come out of her coma soon. Any day now. Maybe tonight. Then they’ll be able to extract information from her in short order. You’ve got to get her out of here.”
“You mean she’s going to live?”
“For a while,” said Jill. “I don’t think she’ll make it for long. There’s too much damage to her internal organs. But she’ll live long enough for them to get what they want. You have to get her out of here.”
“But…if we unplug her…won’t she die?”
Jill smiled somewhat sadly. “No. She’s been breathing on her own for several days. We’ve been faking it - giving her drugs to keep her under. But they’ll figure it out soon enough. We don’t have much time.”
Deciding, Jim stood up again. “OK. Will you help me?”
Jill nodded vigorously. “Yes. I’ll do anything. Where do we start?”
“Start by getting her unplugged from those things and get her ready to go. I’ll go check out the corridor.”
Jill nodded, began turning off devices, removing tubes and wires from Rita. Jim moved to the door, stepped into the outer room, and peeked through the door to the hallway. It was still dark. Nothing moved. Closing the door, he checked the time.
Angel, are we on schedule?
Perfect.
Jim returned to the inner room. Jill had removed most of the tubes and wires from Rita. His wife looked small and vulnerable now, lying passive in the bed. It was hard to look at her. Shaking himself out of his funk, he turned to the doctor.
“Dr. Bartlett, in nine minutes, all hell is going to break loose. We need to be ready to travel by then. Can you do it?”
“Yes. I’ll be ready.”
***
Nine minutes had come and gone, and then another nine minutes. There was no distant explosion.
Something had gone horribly wrong. Jim realized the plan was shot to hell.
Jill leaned over toward him.
“We have to go, Jim. We can’t stay here any longer. Someone will come soon.”
Jim nodded. He turned to the bed and picked up Rita.
They had to make a break for it.
Jill carried Jim’s pack; Jim put Rita in a fireman’s carry over his shoulders. It seemed strange to carry his wife that way, but at this point, survival outweighed appearances.
Jim had given Jill a pulse pistol; he carried his own silenced pistol in his right hand, placed in front of his body. They moved as quickly as possible down the corridor, back the way Jim had come, toward the cargo bay.
They made it half-way before their luck ran out. They turned a corner just in time to run squarely into a big Ashkelon guard carrying a rifle slung over his back - and a pistol in his hand. The Ashkelon reacted quickly, bringing the pistol up for a shot. Jill was faster - her pistol was already up as they rounded the corner, and she shot the Ashkelon square in the face, his brains blowing out the back of his head and making a bloody mess on the corridor wall. He went down like a slab of beef, his rifle making a loud clatter on the floor.
“Quick now,” hissed Jill. “That noise will bring others!” She moved quickly to one side, letting Jim go first, since she wasn’t sure where they were headed.
“Roger that,” said Jim, kicking himself into a dogtrot. It was brutal to trot with the added weight of Rita on his shoulders, but he knew they had no choice. The sound of the pistol shot and the clatter as the guard’s rifle had hit the floor would bring others, and soon.
His thought was prophetic. As he approached the next corner, he heard a guttural shout behind him. A rifle pulse hit the roof over his head, close enough to send shards of burnt metal and paint down on him. He heard Jill behind him firing, the staccato bursts of her pistol mixed with the low frequency “thumps” of the Ashkelon pulse weapons. He heard a cry of pain from Jill - then he was around the corner, protected from the shots behind him, trotting, head down, trying to put more distance between himself and the pursuers behind. Reaching the end of the corridor, he turned the corner into the next corridor, stopped, reversed, and peeked back around to look for Jill.
He saw her. She was crouched down at the far end of the corridor, firing her pistol around the corner. Blood covered her left arm, which hung limply. More blood pooled under her. She fired several times, then turned briefly to look at him. She gave him a pushing gesture - the gesture clearly indicating for him to run, leave her behind, go quickly. A wan smile came across her face - the smile of someone who knows they will be dead within seconds.
“Remember my name!” she yelled.
Then she turned and with her good arm, began firing around the corner again.
Jim knew she was right. If he didn’t leave now while Jill protected his rear, all was lost. He re-positioned Rita and began running again, down the next hallway toward the service area.
***
All hell had broken loose on the Ashkelon space station. Alarms rang continuously, lights flashed in the corridors, and guards ran through the corridors in every direction. Jim had barely made it to the maintenance room twelve meters up from the cargo bay - the same place he had originally started his trip. He huddled now below the small window in the door, the lights turned off. He couldn’t get down the corridor to the cargo bay; there was a constant stream of guards moving back and forth in the corridor. One even rattled the door knob as he went by. Jim had locked the door from the inside; the guard peered in through the window, saw nothing in the dimness, and went on his way.
He no longer had his pack; Jill had been carrying that, and Jill was gone. She was dead by now, he was sure. And they would be coming for him next. But he had only one last door to get through, and he would be back in the cargo bay. If he could just get out the door, down the hallway and into the cargo bay; then if he could get onboard a shuttle.
If, if, if… Jim knew the odds were against him. But he had to try.
He looked down at Rita, lying on the floor beside him. She was still breathing, but otherwise there was no sign of life. She looked so helpless. It tore at his heart.
I have to get her out of here, or else we both have to die. We can’t let Zukra have either one of us.
Outside, the corridor seemed to be quiet for the moment. Jim raised up slightly, peeked through the window. He saw nothing.
Well, hoss, time to toss the dice.
Jim tucked his pi
stol back into the shoulder holster, bent over and picked up Rita, putting her back on his shoulders. He unlocked the door and cracked it open slightly. Looking to the left, he saw an empty corridor. He pushed the door open a bit more and stuck out his head, looked to the right. Nothing.
He pulled out his pistol and positioned it in his right hand in case he needed it. Quickly he opened the door fully, stepped out, and closed it behind him. With Rita still over his shoulders, he took the dozen long steps to the cargo bay door as rapidly as possible. He reached and opened it, pushed through, and entered the bay, gently closing the door behind him.
It was still dark; perhaps he had reached it before the Ashkelon had deciphered his destination. There before him were several shuttles, parked in their landing slots, ready for the next day’s operations. Jim moved to the one closest to him and gently laid Rita down on the floor. He laid down his pistol as well, to open the shuttle ramp.
And the lights came on.
Jim spun. There behind him stood an Ashkelon captain, flanked by two burly Ashkelon guards. The two guards had their rifles fixed on him. He didn’t stand a chance of reaching his pistol before they shot him.
Slowly Jim stood. There was no way out.
Might as well face it like a man.
The Ashkelon captain stared at him, as if he recognized him. Then he spoke, his words in English, strangely accented but understandable.
“Commander Jim Carter, I believe,” he said.
Jim stared. And then it came to him. He had never met the Ashkelon who stood before him; but he knew him by the slight reddish streak of hair peeking from under his cap.
“Captain Orma, I believe,” Jim responded.
“Yesss,” Orma said, with the stretched-out sibilants that were common in both the Nidarian and Ashkelon languages. “We meet at last. Under unfortunate circumstances, however.”
Jim nodded. “Yes. Very unfortunate. Well…”
Jim gathered his thoughts for the last time.
“Go ahead. Do what you have to do.”
Chapter Nineteen
Ashkelon System - Planet Ridendo
Naval Spacedock
A strange kind of smile passed across Orma’s face; a smile recognizable in spite of the abbreviated muzzle of his face.
A smile of sadness, Jim thought.
“Yes. You have said it. I will do what I have to do.”
And with that, Orma made a gesture to one of the guards. The guard handed his rifle to the other guard. Then he moved forward, past Jim, and walked to the nearby shuttle. He keyed a code and the hatch opened, the ramp falling to the deck with a slight thump. Then the guard turned aside and stood beside the ramp, almost in a position of attention, waiting.
Jim looked back at Orma in puzzlement. Orma pointed to the shuttle. “Please carry your wife aboard the shuttle, Commander Carter.”
Jim shrugged, turned, picked Rita up and carried her to the shuttle. He climbed the ramp and inside found a long, cushioned seat. Carefully he laid Rita down on the seat. Then he stood and turned to Orma, now standing at the base of the ramp.
Once more Orma showed that strange, sad smile. “Regrettably, your comrade Helen is dead, Commander. I wish it had been otherwise. But I cannot face Zukra empty-handed. I assure you; she will receive a proper military burial.
“Have a good trip, Commander Carter. The shuttle has been pre-programmed on a vector to Deriko. From there you may travel anywhere you wish - the codes on the shuttle authorize it to go anywhere in the system. I wish you luck. And when your Admiral awakes, tell her I remember the day she released me to return to my family. Tell her one good turn deserves another.”
And with that, Orma gestured to the guard. The shuttle ramp began to close. In a few seconds, Jim was sealed inside the shuttle with Rita. He heard the engines start spooling up. Outside he heard the dock’s airlock door opening. With a lurch, the shuttle lifted off the deck and shot out the launch bay.
Ashkelon System
Ashkelon Shuttlecraft
Jim half-expected missiles to come flying after him as he departed the Ashkelon space dock - but nothing happened. The shuttle flew serenely on its course, directly toward Deriko, for two hours.
He approached the planet with a heavy heart. He had been unable to rouse Rita from her coma. He had tended her, re-positioning her arms and legs to ensure she was comfortable, putting a folded blanket under her head. He had draped another blanket over her body to keep her warm.
He wiped her face with a damp cloth. He spoke to her, rubbed her arms, kissed her. He placed water against her lips in case she would be able to take a sip. But nothing he did gained any reaction.
Jim was confused. The doctor, Jill Bartlett, had said she would wake up soon. But she simply lay, still in a coma. Just breathing.
At least she’s breathing without a respirator. That’s progress.
The AI of the shuttle spoke.
Jim laid the damp cloth across Rita’s forehead and returned to the cockpit. In the holo he could see they were approaching Deriko, now only about a half-hour out.
But Jim knew the fleet was no longer at Deriko. Bonnie had moved on to Dekanna, preparing to fight the Ashkelon there. There was no point in going to Deriko anymore.
“Shuttle. I see that you speak English. Can you understand me?”
“Do you understand Human spatial coordinates for this system?”
“Annotate the holo with the location of Deriko in Human coordinates.”
In the small cockpit holo of the shuttle, readable numbers appeared beside the icon of the planet Deriko. Jim checked them against his memory. They were correct. Clearly Orma had pre-programmed the shuttle to understand Human commands.
That was a bit scary.
That son of a bitch knows far too much about us. This is probably some kind of a trap. But I don’t see how. And I don’t really see what advantage he could gain by letting me escape, then setting a trap. He already knows the fleet left for Dekanna. So…
“Designate point Charlie-Four as follows: 106.2, 105.2, 53.1.”
“Mark Point Charlie-Four on the holo.”
A dot appeared in the small holo in the cockpit. Jim checked it. It appeared to be properly located - well off in the Kuiper belt of the system, 53.1 AU away.
7,965,000,000 klicks. A long journey in a tiny shuttle.
But that was the location where a packet boat should be waiting for him and Helen.
Helen. She’s dead. I have to get word to Ollie. He’s gonna be devastated.
But I can’t send a message from an Ashkelon shuttle. I’m sure they’re monitoring all transmissions.
“Execute.”
Ashkelon System
Fleet Assembly Point
The bridge of the Ashkelon flagship Revenge was busy. The barely audible whine of cooling fans in the electronics, and the slight susurration of air coming from the vents, added to the background of low voices from the officers and technicians working at a half-dozen consoles.
Admiral Zukra’s Flag Aide, Damra, stood the precise two meters from his Admiral as demanded by protocol. “M’lord, the fleet is ready to depart.”
Zukra lounged comfortably in his well-padded command chair. Ashkelon warships didn’t utilize a raised Flag Bridge as did the Nidarians and Humans; but Zukra’s elevated chair raised him a full twelve inches above the rest of the bridge. In the ten-foot diameter holo in front of him, the Ashkelon fleet appeared in loose formation at their assembly point 25 million klicks from Ridendo. With the
battlecruisers in the middle of the cloud of warships, the cruisers surrounding them, and destroyers making up the outer layer, the fleet spanned fifty thousand klicks. A covey of supply ships, corvettes and utility boats brought up the rear.
“Very well, Damra. Move ‘em out.” Zukra made a flip of the hand at Damra, giving him permission to carry on. With a slight bow, Damra turned to the Flag Captain of the Revenge and nodded.
Flag Captain Rizdo nodded in return and spoke to the ship.
“Revenge, start the fleet moving.”
Zukra gazed in satisfaction at his bridge crew and the holo of his fleet. In the holo, his advance guard of destroyers began moving. Taking a line toward the Dekanna system, they were soon followed by the rest of the fleet, first the cruisers, then the battlecruisers. In a half-hour, all ships were heading for the outer system and the point where they could sink out to FTL.
Zukra lounged in his chair with a great feeling of satisfaction.
This time. This time I have them. That new Admiral - Bonnie they call her - what a joke. Promoted from destroyer commodore to admiral. They must be desperate. But no matter - it just makes my job easier. This time I’ve got them. Dekanna is their last stand.
Damra returned to a point just outside the railing around Zukra’s command chair and stopped, looking at his tablet. He didn’t put a hand on the railing - the last officer who tried that was missing a hand.
“Message from Admiral Tanno, m’lord. The Nidarian fleet will rendezvous as we planned at point 14-Z, one light outside the Dekanna system. They are on schedule.”
Zukra grunted in acknowledgment. “Good, good,” he finally spoke. “That will double our fleet size.”
“Do you think the Humans will try an end run around us to escape, sir? When they realize we’re coming?”
Zukra thought for a second, then smiled.
“Actually, I hope they do. We’ve got scout ships watching that system every minute. If that new Human admiral tries to run, we’ll know it instantly. And we’ll chase her down - she knows that. She knows I’ll chase her right back to Earth, and then cleanse that whole planet. So no, I think she’ll stand and fight. Animals that they are, they have enough intelligence to know running is pointless.”
The Short End: Broken Galaxy Book Four Page 20