“Missing?” he asked.
“Yeah,” one of the men answered. “Uhm, yeah, sir!”
“At ease, son.”
“Sorry, sir. It was off the Dewey, which was my ship. The scuttlebutt is it was attacked by a sea monster.”
“A sea monster?” Rose asked in his perfect officer’s dead pan, ‘are you fucking serious,’ tone. “Like a sea monster from a movie?”
Mays leaned a little closer. “Flying aircraft carriers, zombies…”
“Stow it,” Rose growled back. “I need a ride to the oil platform.” He scanned the young faces and pointed at the female. “You were quick to answer, can you drive one of those?”
“Yes, sir, no problem.” She almost tripped over the mooring line when she jumped in.
Rose didn’t seem to take any notice. He was pushing 60 and carrying extra tonnage, so he was no ballerina getting on board, either. Mays, being in his early thirties, leaped in like a pro.
“Show off,” Rose said. Mays grinned.
The boat’s dual outboards roared. One of the sailors who wasn’t going untied the boat from its cleat and tossed the line onto the RHIB’s bow, then they were off in flash. Luckily for Rose, this RHIB had seats. Not all of them did. In some, you had to sit on the big, inflated side or stand by the control console and hold on for dear life.
“What do you think happened to the RHIB they’re talking about?” Mays whispered/yelled in Rose’s ear.
“No clue. The RHIB crew could have become a zombie, run off, or the boat just sunk.” I think we can rule out sea monsters, though. As the RHIB cut through the water, he glanced over the side. Nothing but white foam and blue water. He looked away with a snort.
The boat reached the platform and slowed. The ship that was tied up to the rig was big, no doubt about it. It was more than 400 feet long, which put it around 100 feet longer than his new command ship, the Pacific Adventurer. He wished he’d known about this ship; it would have made a better base of operations. He had almost a thousand dependents on a cruise ship with a broken engine.
As the RHIB began to idle and the young seaman expertly used the last of its velocity to bump it up against the dock, a bunch of the men and women moving gear looked over curiously. Rose noted two men standing by the ship, both armed with AK-47s, keeping an eye on everything. They weren’t in uniform despite the assurance with which they wielded their weapons.
“Can I help you?” a man asked. He was a big bear of a guy with a shaved head and full beard. He had a Glock in a holster and four magazines in holders on the opposite hip.
“Yeah, I’m General Rose. I’d like to talk with Dr. Breda about this ship.”
“I’ve heard of you,” the man said. “She talked to you before. I’m Joseph Capdepon, Chief of Logistics for HAARP.”
“Lots of logistics people carry guns around here?” Mays asked.
Joseph’s eye flicked down to his weapon, and he grinned. “We’re also Dr. Breda’s Zombie Squad.” He saw Rose’s confused look. “My friends and I are gun bunnies, you see? When you live offshore, you tend to take all your favorite toys with you. It’s easier than storing them in the People’s Republic of Commiefornia. So, when the shit hit the fan, we were ready.”
“Bunch of red-blooded republicans?” Rose asked, a smirk on his face.
“It’s not that simple,” Joseph replied. “A few of us, yeah, but not all.”
“Hello there, General.”
Rose looked up. Dr. Breda was leaning over the railing of the Helix, staring down at him.
“Dr. Breda, how are you?”
“Fine. What do you need?”
“Got a minute to talk?” She nodded. “Good. Captain, why don’t you and Mr. Capdepon discuss politics or beer or something. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He left the two looking at each other distrustfully and climbed the boarding ramp to the Helix. Lisha was waiting for him. “Where can we talk?”
She led him into one of several cabins behind the bridge. It was not luxurious, but it did have enough room for a couple of people. The cabins on the Pacific Adventurer weren’t nearly as roomy, but more luxurious.
“We didn’t take the ship,” Dr. Breda said immediately.
“You certainly did,” General Rose corrected. “It wasn’t yours yesterday.”
“Okay, point. We didn’t take it from anyone like a pirate would.”
“Will the crew aboard the Fun on the Sea agree with your assessment?”
“I didn’t ask them,” she admitted.
The woman was more than a few years his junior. Still, she was obviously used to getting her way. While not a leader of combat men and women, she was a leader. He couldn’t imagine the level of intelligence and training it took to do what she did. All he knew about genes was that they all had them.
“Why did you take it?” he asked.
She motioned him over to a chair next to the desk. A coffee pot with steaming coffee in it was sitting on the desk. “Care for a cup?”
“I’d love one.”
She put out a couple of Styrofoam cups and poured. She did it with no obvious haste. In fact, he guessed she was using the time to consider what she was going to say. He gave her the time she needed and waited patiently. Once the coffee was poured, she placed a container with sweetener and creamer in front of him.
“You haven’t dealt with soldiers much,” he said. It wasn’t a question. He sipped the bitter black beverage and sighed. “Only the navy uses cream and sugar. Army takes it black.”
She grinned, nodded, and took a sip of her own. “Army and scientists,” she said, smacking her lips.
I like this woman, he decided. “Now that we’re both caffeinated, you gonna give me a reason?”
“I already said we can’t beat this thing.”
“I know; I was at the meeting with the late Admiral Hoskins.”
“Does his death put you in charge?”
“The military is complicated. You can’t order around a member from another service just because you outrank them.”
“Last time I looked, we’re short a president.”
“Yeah, she’s spread all over Coronado. We’re looking for someone to succeed her. We can’t find anyone from the line of succession. They’re supposed to ensure someone remains available. Still, you have a point. Just now, they’re nominally listening to me. We have a rear admiral on the way.”
“The fleet from the east coast?” He nodded. “With their alien?”
Rose laughed and shook his head. “Man, rumors are faster than radio. Still…”
“Yes, yes.” She sighed and took another sip of coffee.
He wondered why she was so hesitant. She didn’t appear guilty or seem to feel bad about helping herself to a multi-million-dollar ship. Quite the contrary, actually. There was something more.
“One of my people may have accidentally found a counter for Strain Delta.”
“A cure?!” he said, almost spilling hot coffee on himself.
“No,” she said, holding up her hands. “Don’t get carried away. It might be possible to clean it out of someone. However, removing the virus won’t stop the infected from becoming blood thirsty killers. Strain Delta rewrites the brain, reforms it entirely. Without the nanovirus, it can’t continue to mutate their brains.”
“Mutate? What?”
“I’m getting in too deep. The countering process, if it proves out, can’t make you human again. It will allow us to purify food and water, though.”
“We can do that already.”
“Sure, by cooking it until it’s leather. What we’ve found is an astoundingly low-energy solution involving radar or, perhaps, low powered microwaves.”
“You don’t know?”
“It’s too soon,” she said. “Weasel just did it.”
“Weasel? Is that a computer or something?”
“Close enough,” she mumbled. “We acquired the ship before we had the breakthrough. I’d decided we needed to protect the data we have. Staying on
the oil platform wasn’t a good long-term solution. We were sitting ducks.”
“You have security provided by the military.”
“General Rose, having watched this situation develop and the fiasco at Coronado, I have come to the conclusion that the military can’t even protect itself.”
Rose scowled, and Lisha took a drink of her coffee. She had a point. Dozens of ships had left over the last day and a half. As the Reagan went down, so had the confidence of the Flotilla’s civilian elements. Sure, most had stayed. Still, the number of departures were discouraging. He’d even done a brief interview with the reporter on the Ford, Kathy Clifford. When the damned carrier shot into orbit, dozens more ships lit out for parts unknown. Shit was coming apart at the seams, and the east coast fleet was still a couple days out. But they hadn’t checked in since morning, a fact which was not public knowledge, for obvious reasons.
Who knew if they really had an alien? A few days ago, he would have laughed at the idea. Now, he’d seen an aircraft carrier fly to space and back, so he kept his opinions to himself.
“Okay, you might have a point. Where are you going?”
“Nowhere, yet. The guys are going to get us fueled up and provisioned first.”
“Where are those provisions coming from?”
“Somewhere legitimate, I assure you. Also, I plan to ensure we preserve all my data.”
“Including the illegal genetic research?”
Dr. Breda’s smile remained, but it left her eyes.
“Yes. I’ve done some research in our database. The military keeps a lot of data offline, and just before the Ford took its trip to outer space, they found a workaround for the military network connectivity issue. It was some kind of virus, but they figured it out.”
He took a sip of coffee. “You were being investigated by our nation and Interpol. Your research has been called borderline eugenics, and you were out here because your supporters were afraid you were going to get raided.”
“There’s a lot more to what we are doing than so called eugenics.”
“Such as?”
“Have you studied genetics, General Rose?”
“Not since high school, no.”
“Then I probably can’t explain all of it. Regardless, you must realize I’m just about the only authority when it comes to Strain Delta. I’m all you’ve got. So, what do you plan to do?”
Rose nodded and finished his coffee. It wasn’t too bad or too hot. “If you leave, let me know.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to go with you.”
“I thought you were in it for the big win?”
“When we came here from Texas, I thought what we had here was a lot more than it was. Enough forces to take back the land and save as many people as possible. A lot of effort was spent trying to save the president, on her orders.” He spread his hands wide. “I’m the ranking US Army officer present, so until they dredge up a presidential successor, I’ll do what I want. I agree with you and your data. It might be our only chance to save humanity. So, Dr. Breda, I’m your protection going forward.”
The smile returned to her eyes. “Some more coffee, General Rose?”
“Don’t mind if I do. And, please, call me Leon.”
* * *
USS Gerald R. Ford
150 Nautical Miles West of San Diego, CA
Jeremiah Osborne wasn’t thrilled to find himself back in the same conference room he’d been in a few days ago. He was afraid then that he’d regret letting the navy have one of the alien drive devices; now, he was having to deal with the aftermath of the decision.
“Mr. Osborne,” Captain Gilchrist said, “you were not very forthcoming about the capabilities of the alien device you found.”
“So you had one of your sailors steal a drive off my ship.”
“It was part of an investigation,” the navy captain said without missing a beat. “The contents of the drive prove you knew far more about the alien technology than you led us to believe.”
“We were still learning about it,” Alison McDill said. “Most of what we learned was from trial and error.”
“At least we weren’t stupid enough to slap it on a 100,000-ton aircraft carrier to see what would happen,” Alex West said.
Commander Tobias, Gilchrist’s XO, looked mad enough to chew steel and spit nails. “It was him,” he said, pointing at Wade Watts.
Wade shrugged and took a drink of his Coke.
“Computers or electronics?” Alison asked him.
“Mostly computers, but some electronics to learn more about computers.”
“What happened?” she asked him.
“Accidentally grounded a cart with the drive on it against a bulkhead.” He shrugged again. “Not used to everything being made of metal.”
“Why didn’t you let him bring you back down?” Jeremiah asked.
“We had him arrested,” Tobias said immediately.
“Did he break in and mess with it?”
“They asked me to work on it,” Wade said.
“Nobody told you to put us in orbit,” Captain Gilchrist said.
“Chief Kuntzleman said to help get it working. I did.”
Gilchrist looked like he was about to lose his temper, so Jeremiah figured he needed to be the adult in the room. “Captain, since my people got you down, maybe we should consider the matter closed?”
“I have 73 injured crewmen,” Gilchrist said. “And nine of them are in critical condition.”
Jeremiah sighed. “I doubt you have the necessary facilities to keep him in jail.”
“We have a brig,” Tobias said.
“The point remains. You don’t want to have to deal with him. I’ll take him off your hands.”
Wade looked at Jeremiah in surprise. “Why would I want to go with you?”
“You want them to keelhaul you?”
“We don’t do that anymore,” Gilchrist said.
“Exceptions can be made,” Tobias mumbled. He looked at his captain who nodded. “Fine, he’s your problem now.”
“Is your ship okay?” Alex asked.
“Minor damage,” Gilchrist said. “Our speed was already screwed from pushing the drives too far. Doubt we can do 20 knots. We’re as slow as our escorts, now.”
“Glad nothing other than a few crew members was hurt too bad,” Jeremiah said.
“I’d like to know what you intend to do with the technology.”
Jeremiah gave the captain an appraising glance. The man appeared to be an archetypical military leader on the surface. Hidden under the salutes, crisp uniform, and sharp looks, though, was a keen intellect. He’d never been in the military and only dealt with them for contracts. Maybe this sort of man was more common for a ship’s captain or a naval officer. Jeremiah had had few chances to meet navy personnel, even when doing government contracts.
“To tell you the truth, Captain, there wasn’t time to form a plan. As I explained, we found the first drive before Strain Delta was a thing. At least, before anyone knew about it. While I waited to hear from my contact at NASA, my people started working out the technology. After everything went to shit, what else was there to do? We had no idea the alien ships and Strain Delta were linked.”
“You found a dead alien with the first ship?” Gilchrist asked.
“Yes, we still have it in a freezer. We weren’t even sure it was an alien for a long time.”
“You always thought it was,” Alex said in a low voice. Jeremiah nodded.
Gilchrist steepled his fingers and looked Jeremiah in the eye. “I know you’re a businessman, Mr. Osborne. However, you must realize our nation, our very species, is at risk. You found the spaceship you had with you nearby. I’ll ask you again, in light of what’s happening and appealing to your humanity, how did you find it?”
Jeremiah looked at Alex West, then at Alison McDill.
“It was always your call,” Alex said. Alison nodded.
“My people figured out how to use seve
ral of the systems on the alien ship. Among those systems was the radio. We studied it and realized each of the alien ships had a sort of transponder. You see, they’re not really ships, they’re lifeboats.”
“How do you know?” Gilchrist asked.
Jeremiah spent some time running the captain through the logical arguments his people had used—ships not meant for long-term use (no facilities), redundant drives, and redundant communication systems.
“They do sound like lifeboats on civilian ships,” Tobias agreed.
“How many?” Gilchrist asked.
“We found signals for 25 alien craft. The one we had with us brings it to 26.”
“All right around here?”
“No, all over the planet. The alien transmitter seems to work right through the planet.”
“So does VLF,” Tobias said, referring to the navy’s very long frequency radio system used to talk with submarines.
“Yes, but VLF takes an hour to give a weather report,” Alison said. “This system sends quite a bit of data, quickly.”
“I’ve been thinking about the potential uses for those drives,” Jeremiah said. “Think of it, being able to hover over a site and rescue people, assess infected levels, provide support, and find stuff.”
The navy people were looking at each other and nodding. It would be impossible for someone to miss the potential benefits of a flying craft, with no danger of crashing, that could hover over a spot for days, weeks, or even months.
“What about power requirements?” Gilchrist asked.
“We’ve done some evaluations,” Alison said. “The basic drive requires only milliamps of power to operate, and it doesn’t appear to matter whether you’re hovering a dingy or an aircraft carrier. Admittedly though, the biggest thing we’ve tried it on was our ship.”
“And now, ours,” Tobias said. Wade Watts snorted with laughter, and Tobias speared him with a death stare.
“We didn’t have time to evaluate power usage on the carrier, but there are a bunch of abandoned ships we can try it on,” Alison added. “The problem is that the power modules are needed to create the forcefield which keep the air in while you are in space. It might appear that the power modules have infinite energy, but that’s impossible.”
Turning Point (Book 3): A Time To Live Page 13