"Closest to medical," acknowledged Wolff. "He must be moving Drop One somewhere else."
"They said he's sending out all ten active drop ships for overwatch, weapons hot. I don't know what he's watching for, and they won't say, but I don't necessarily disagree with the notion. This whole thing is weird."
"Yeah, and it just got weirder. Tiny diamond shards in the airlock and stuck in Prisha's slipper soles."
Von Barronov swore; Wolff just grinned.
"You got that, or do you want me to come up?"
"Nah, I can conn her over there, no problem. Five minutes."
"Okay." Wolff turned his attention back to Ariela.
"Was there anything else odd about these two?"
"Don't think so," said Ariela, finishing her cleanup and pushing the bottom drawer closed. She stood up. "Dad, this whole thing from start to now, has been really fucked up. It went from a simple rescue to an all-hands, holy-fuck medical emergency, to a complete mystery as to what the hell they were doing there in the first place, let alone how they got there, and now we have valuable gems being tracked into the ship."
"Yeah, you've summed it up pretty well."
"But what has this to do with our expedition to find out what's up with those radio signals?"
Wolff sighed, rubbed his chin, and said, "Probably not a damn thing. It's like when we got shot at by the colonists over Terra Meridiani. The Simulation, or Bob, or both of them, told us that wasn't supposed to happen, but it did because the static timeline was starting to fall apart. The timeline here isn't falling apart, but this sequence of events, like that sequence of events, is probably just the result of dumb luck. Neither the Simulation or its staff have much, if any, control over events in a dynamic timeline, which is the whole point of the dynamism. The only way they can know what's going to happen next is to watch helplessly along with the rest of us." He smiled, and so did Ariela, a little. "The Simulation might have a bit of an edge because it can calculate probabilities faster and better than we can and reach conclusions about future action that we can't match. But in the end, it doesn't know what's going to happen in the next five minutes, five hours, five days, or five years, any more than we do. What does that tell us?"
Ariela considered. "It's highly prescient, but it's not omniscient."
"Well done! And like us, it can jump back and replay events to analyze what already happened, but it can't change anything that already happened. And even when it warns us something is going to happen, it can only do so within a certain percentage of probability."
"Okay, I get all of that, but there's one thing that really bothers me."
"What's that?"
Ariela hesitated, looked around as if she thought someone might be listening, leaned over, and whispered in Wolff's ear: "If we're hearing those broadcasts now, weren't they actually sent a thousand years ago? And if so, what the hell are we really heading into?"
Wolff raised an eyebrow, turned, and looked her in the eye.
"Hmm," was all he said.
Somehow, that didn't reassure his daughter in the slightest.
Chapter 6
Comings and Goings, and Always Too Soon
Wolff looked at the pressure gauge for the docking collar, tapped it with a fingernail to make sure it was reading accurately, nodded more for himself than anyone else, and punched the purple SET GRAPPLES button on the control panel. The grapples swung out and clanged into the sockets provided on the side of the Constellation, then adjusted themselves for "best fit."
The Bandersnatch had what was considered a "standard" commercial airlock hatch, but she had been built before the specifications for the "fast attach" military-grade airlocks planned for the frigates had been set, and the only way she could dock with the larger vessel was to use the docking collar and grapples as she had done at the terminal station. Luckily, the consortium that designed and built the frigates provided for either type of docking method at each hatch.
Wolff and von Barronov could have upgraded the Bandersnatch to the military standard hatch long since, but the cost and downtime – mostly the downtime, if they were honest – were more than they were willing to endure. They'd build another ship from scratch, with the military airlock designed in from the start, before they'd do that. For now, it wasn't a problem; docking just took longer and was more finicky.
A comm message from LaForrest had warned Wolff there would be a surprise waiting on the other side of the hatch. Having been surprised in an airlock in the recent past, he looked carefully out of the port to ensure nobody was standing right there on the other side, but the frigate's outer hatch was still closed. "Well," he said to himself, "at least it opens toward them." He punched the intercom button. "Chris, defeat the interlock, please."
"Done," came the response, and he heard a relay snap in the panel in front of him. A red warning light came on with the legend INTERLOCK DEFEAT. He nodded, and looked at Ariela, standing next to him. "I'm going to open up."
She nodded in reply, and stepped back toward the inner hatch to give him room to swing the outer hatch inward. He reached down, spun the wheel, and the dogs dropped out. Grasping the wheel, he pulled, and the hatch swung toward him, revealing the formerly-white, liberally-smudged, banged-up, and scratched outer hatch of Constellation's Berth One.
Heh. Given half a chance, Marines can and will destroy anything. It's good to know nothing ever changes in my Corps.
He banged on the hatch. A pretty, freckled face framed in red hair appeared in the port, grinned, and disappeared again. Before he could react, the hatch wheel started to turn, and its dogs also dropped out, the hatch swinging into the berth.
"Holy hell! Nurse Tina?"
Commander Tina Murphy Patterson, flaming red hair and all, stood just inside the berth. "Well, will you look at that," she grinned, "my favorite fucked-up gunnery sergeant made good! And shanghaied back into the Corps? Major, eh? Did the mandatory lobotomy hurt much?" With that, she stepped forward and hugged him hard. In fairness, he hugged her back just as hard. Maybe harder.
"Kat is going to be so pumped to hear I saw you," he told her, when they finally let go and just stood there, grinning idiotically at each other. "Wow, you're still quite a dish. Still a redhead, though," he teased her, and she stuck her tongue out at him, laughing.
"You'll note I still haven't killed Roger yet, homicidal red hair or no. He'll get a kick out of this, too. I didn't get a chance to message him before we rather suddenly departed, but when I heard we were coming out here to meet you, I just sort of squeeed, and told our Chief Medical Officer I had to come down when you arrived. But what have you got for us? Two women with radiation poisoning?"
"Yes. Tina, this is my, well, my daughter from another mother and another timeline, Second Lieutenant Dr. Ariela Rivers Wolff, M.D., Ph.D. She's been taking care of the two women since we picked them up. Ari, this is –" he looked at her rank tabs, "– Commander Tina Murphy Patterson, R.N., M.D., Ph.D., I assume Chief of Nursing aboard the Constellation, and by happenstance, one of the nurses from my long stretch as a guest of Bethesda Naval Hospital, lo these fifty-odd years ago." He got out of the way and the two smiled and shook hands.
"Doctor," said Tina, "I'm pleased to meet you, of course, but I'd like to get your patients to medical as quickly as possible."
"Doctor," said Ariela, relieved, "that works perfectly for me. We'll get out of the way so your orderlies can move in and out of the ship. The ladies are just to the right of the inner hatch, in the two bunks nearest the airlock. They each have an I.V. hooked up and it should stay with them."
Tina nodded and looked back toward the four orderlies with their two gurneys. "Go," she said. "Quickly, now." They got out of the way, like Wolff, moving into the berth where there was more room to stand by the bulkhead, while the orderlies filed into the Bandersnatch and filed back out with Prisha and Naira and their various accoutrements. As they came into the berth, a radiation alarm started to hoot and flash red lights. The orderlies ignored it an
d started strapping the patients into the gurneys.
"Belay that alarm," ordered Tina, calmly. The alarm stopped hooting, but the lights continued to flash.
"Is that sufficient, Chief Nurse?" came from an intercom speaker.
"Yes. They are, after all, radioactive; the light warning is fine, I just don't need the raucous noise. Thank you, Gina."
"Aye, aye, ma'am. We'll see you shortly. Everything is ready."
"Very good. Patterson out." Tina turned to Ariela. "I stand in relief for your patients, Doctor. You are of course welcome to attend them in the medical section, and Captain LaForrest has ordered that you are to have the freedom of the ship. I'd also like to debrief you along the way to see what you've been able to do for them so far."
"Thank you, Chief Nurse; I stand relieved," replied Ariela, coming to attention, and crisply saluting her. Tina returned her salute, and they moved away, talking a mile a minute, following the orderlies and gurneys toward the nearest bank of elevators.
"Tina," called Wolff. "Who's the new Medical Officer?"
"Del Toro," came the response, "he swore he'd never go to space but he finally got bored at Bethesda. Be sure to come up in a little while and see him."
"I will, thanks." Wolff smiled. "Heh. Of all people. That must be why Tina is here, she would have followed him in a New York minute."
"Who is he?" asked von Barronov, who'd joined him after the orderlies had brought their patients out.
"Dr. Armand del Toro was my surgeon at Bethesda," Wolff explained. "He was the guy who filled an entire wing of records storage with my scans, X-rays, and MRIs. Or at least, it seemed like it at the time. But he's also the guy who made it possible for my femur to knit back as well as it did, before nanos. Major experimental surgery for those days. I figured, what the hell, I wasn't expected to walk again, so he might as well experiment. And then Kat came along and taught me to walk again after the bone knitted well enough hold my weight."
Von Barronov nodded, sagely. "Ah. And Kat knew Dr. Patterson?"
"Yep. They went to school together, at IU, and later up at the med center in Indianapolis. Tina called Kat and told her about this guy who was going to need a world-class physical terrorist . . . "
"I doubt that's the term she used."
"You're right, she didn't, but that's what we called PTs back then, in the Corps. Anyway, that's the story of that. I thought you knew."
Von Barronov snorted. "Hell, John, all I or just about anyone else knew was, you went off to the Marines for a decade and a half, and came back on crutches with a couple of medals and this seriously hot blonde chick for a PT. And then one thing led to another, and you married her. Not that anyone who knew you thought that was a bad thing." He chuckled.
Wolff laughed. "Yeah, I remember some of our friends asked me how they could find a babe like Kat, and I said, 'Join the Marines, serve in a hellhole, get shot up and stuck in a hospital for eight months, and maybe your best nurse will find you a friend of hers who's a PT. Meantime, this one is mine, and sorry not sorry, she doesn't have any sisters.'"
Laughing, they started walking toward the lift that went to the bridge. "Someday, I'll have to tell you that whole sordid story," said Wolff. "It's why I have the Navy Cross. And Tina's husband, Roger Patterson, he was my Platoon Commander that day, just a butterbar, knocked out of action by the same IED that got me, because he took off his helmet to scratch his head at just the wrong time. Hell of a good Marine. Stayed in for years, ended up a brigadier general, retired with a bump to major general when they tried to move him from command of a fighting brigade to a desk in the Pentagon. A true rifleman who gave a damn about his men, and stuck up and fought for them when they needed him to. Still does, too, when it's necessary."
Von Barronov was amazed. "You know, that's more in just a few sentences than you've ever told me about your prior service," he said.
"Huh. Really?" Wolff thought about it. "Maybe I'm finally getting over the PTSD."
Just as they reached the lift, the 1MC went active. "Majors Wolff and von Barronov, report to the bridge, immediately. I say again, Majors Wolff and von Barronov, to the bridge, A-SAP." The 1MC clicked off.
"Damn good job we were headed that way anyhow," grunted von Barronov, as Wolff waved his comm at the security lock and the lift doors opened.
"It's about time you got here," grumbled LaForrest.
They were sitting in his ready room, drinking coffee and snacking on things none of them would have dared eat before they got their nanos, courtesy of the Captain's Steward, Master Chief Petty Officer Thomas Charles.
"Holy shit, Captain," said Wolff, "you didn't even find out you were coming out here till about two hours ago. That was some fast turnaround you made to get here that quickly. Even if you did use the rotation tech that was supposed to be removed three years ago."
"Buford's orders," shrugged LaForrest. "Good thing, right? Your two ladies weren't doing very well at all, from what I gathered, particularly after Buford shared your message with me. Five Sieverts? Wow. Actual, whole Sieverts, not milli- or nano-."
"Yeah," replied Wolff. "Something is badly fucked up downstairs. Worse, we're probably going to have to dump it in your lap so we can get on with our mission."
"Give me the outline."
"Where to start? All we know is, we were minding our own business, doing the required orbit and scan as we passed through the system, when there was a massive explosion about thirty degrees back along our track. We rotated back to get a better look, and made an off-the-cuff determination based on some quick scans that we were looking at the aftermath of a fifty-kiloton nuclear explosion, that had gone off underground. I had Ariela run a deep penetrating radar scan and she found a tunnel network outside of, and surrounding, the area of the blast. Granted, some of the tunnel network appears to be natural, and fits with theories of where all the water and vegetation on the planet went when it turned desert, but enough of it looked too regular and planned to be something that happened naturally."
"How extensive do you think it is?"
"Well, let me tell you the rest and then we can discuss that." Seeing no objection from the captain, Wolff continued, "We then rotated back twenty minutes so we could watch what happened before the explosion. Went to geosync so we wouldn't get pushed away from the event, but also so we could just stay above it without maneuvering. I had Ariela turn on just about every sensor we've got, and we recorded everything." He dug in his breast pocket and pulled out a data chip, handing it to LaForrest. "That's video, plus data, but I'll tell you essentially what we got. Thirty seconds out, big energy spike from ground zero. Fifteen seconds out, big-time particle emissions including neutrinos, tachyons, and gravitons, a bigger energy pulse, a gravity pulse, and a trail of what we think were time crystals shooting from ground zero to the terminal station. At time zero, the big boom, tons of alpha, beta, and gamma radiation, and a humongous EMP. So whatever blew up was massively dirty. And a few moments later, we got a radio call from Prisha at the terminal station, asking us to come pick them up – and she said at the time they were both very sick, but they had been fine before 'the machine' activated." Wolff paused for a moment, thinking, then continued, "We presume 'the machine' was whatever it was that projected the stream of supposed time crystals up to the station; in other words, it must have been a portal using singularity rotation technology. We got that much out of the data, anyway. And we figure that's where Prisha and Naira picked up their dose of rads."
"Huh," said LaForrest, examining the chip. "Okay, so best guess on the tunnels?"
Von Barronov looked at Wolff, who nodded. He took up the story: "Our best guess is they've extended existing natural tunnels in limestone or sandstone all the way back to the city, and put in some sort of a rapid transit system. Our biggest question was what was all of that for, and why was it so far from the city? Quick estimate was it was probably 60 degrees to the west at about 30 degrees latitude, and the city is at about the same latitude, so we're talking abou
t close to 6,000 klicks."
"There's clearly something under that point they were interested in," added Wolff.
"Bigger caves?" asked LaForrest.
"Maybe a mine," said von Barronov. He looked at Wolff. "You got those shards you were talking about?"
"Yeah." Wolff checked his pockets, pulled out the tube Ariela had given him and the duct tape with the shard he'd found. He handed them to LaForrest, who looked at them with some interest.
"What am I looking at?"
"Tube's probably easiest to check, the tape was all that was handy when I found the other one. There's a shard of something in the tube, clear, but sparkly. Ariela found it stuck in Prisha's – the mother's – slipper sole after I told her to check them. The one in the tape is slightly smaller."
"Come on, Major, I don't have all day. What do you think it is?"
Wolff shrugged. "Without a proper test, sir, my WAG is it's either a shard of diamond or a shard of aliglass. But I'd bet on diamond."
"Charlie." Master Chief Charles turned from the coffee service and looked at LaForrest. "Could I impose on you to take these items, personally, down to the Science section, hand them over to someone who can do a proper analysis, taking their receipt for the items, and have them call me when they're done?"
"Of course, Captain. Is this classified?"
"For now, we'll say so, classified Top Secret, with a code word of, damn it, let me check the latest entry . . . " He pulled out his comm, turned it on, and ran an app that required fingerprint and retinal scans. "Principal Teapot." He shook his head. "I swear they get weirder every time I do this. Anyway, I'd like it to stay compartmented between the four of us and whoever does the analysis."
"Very well, sir, I will provide that person with the usual warnings and so forth. I think I know just the person in Science to hand this off to. Before I go, does anyone need more coffee? No? Then I will be on my way, sir, and will return as soon as possible." He saluted the captain, nodded to Wolff and von Barronov, and left the ready room with the materials.
The Lion and the Lizard Page 8