Deimos Station (Broken Stars Book 2)

by I. O. Adler

  She hadn’t taken the time to think about her arrival at the Framework. She had promised to return the harvester once she delivered Jenna. And now she was showing up empty-handed. The possibility of seeing her mom restored felt like it was slipping from her fingers.

  She forced herself to breathe slower and focused on the bot. Then, with a hand on the wall to keep her balance, she made her way down the corridor to find the Framework council.

  Chapter Four

  For the shadow, disrupting the sphere’s communications link was as easy as a touch. Normally it would avoid such an overt action that might cause its discovery, but the shadow knew an opportunity when it saw one. After all, it had been studying the Cordice and their technology for decades.

  The two humans who held the encryption were vulnerable. But the shadow could only get to one of them, as Carmen Vincent hadn’t physically accompanied her sister on the voyage. Neutralizing the com system would cause the harvester’s computer to reset and assume a holding pattern in its current location. And if the shadow’s brood on the Framework acted fast enough, the ship would remain out of reach of the survivors.

  Then they could destroy the Framework and the last remnants of resistance.

  All glory to those beyond the Wall.

  But what of this unknown world and its inhabitants? It needed to learn more.

  The shadow took to the floor near Agent Barrett’s couch as the humans in their bulky hazard suits boarded the sphere. They gave the inert bot in the doorway cautious looks before directing their sensors and recording devices around the interior.

  Eavesdropping was as simple as touching Barrett. The shadow got the sense of their vocal language as Barrett’s mind unwittingly shared its comprehension. And the human law enforcement official was familiar enough, as the shadow had gently acquainted itself with him during the two-day journey. Impulses. Thoughts. Feelings. Memories.

  The shadow had exercised self-control by not pushing deeper.

  One human, the one who identified herself as Doctor Greta Leavitt, was talking to the bot.

  “Carmen, are you there? Can you hear me? Did something happen? We are boarding the vessel and will help Jenna. But we need to learn more so we can help you. Where are you? Where is Sylvia Vincent? Where’s your mom?”

  But Carmen Vincent wasn’t answering.

  One human crouched before Barrett. Barrett had sagged but remained sitting as the other human gave him a quick examination.

  “I’m going to assist you,” the human said. “We’re bringing a gurney.”

  Barrett struggled to rise. The shadow stretched a digit to keep contact. “I’m okay. Get me out of here.”

  It had to hurry to follow Barrett to the doorway as his escort helped him outside, but it paused and broke their connection as another team arrived with a rolling bed. They surrounded Jenna Vincent’s couch. It took the team a while before they moved her, lifting her up onto the gurney.

  She wasn’t conscious. She was missing part of a leg and, from what the shadow had learned, had suffered internal injuries from a Melded firearm.

  They strapped her in and wheeled her out past the bot. The shadow waited to pounce. No one noticed as it slipped onto the base of the gurney above the wheels.

  Outside, the sunlight was bright enough to cause the shadow to draw itself up. It felt pain. But it dare not retreat. With so many eyes upon the gurney, an attentive human might notice the shimmer beneath it if the shadow moved. Even as Barrett entered the hospital, more humans in their bright suits emerged past him. They met the rest of their team to guide Jenna Vincent inside.

  The interior of the facility was well lit and crowded with crude electronic devices that set the shadow’s nerves on edge. The beeps, buzzes, pings, and hums made concentration nearly impossible. It tried to connect with Jenna Vincent to get a better understanding of where they were, but she remained unconscious. The other humans stayed bundled in their hazard suits, and none of them lingered long enough for the shadow to breach the elastic material.

  So many lights. Even on the gurney, someone might spot it.

  They stopped for a long moment just inside the doorway as the humans inspected their patient. After a consultation with Dr. Leavitt, they were on the move again. The team rolled the gurney through a set of doors and they came to a stop as other humans moved a curtain out of the way and prepared a bed. Then most of them left. A remaining pair leaned over the gurney and began ministering to Jenna.

  The shadow slid across the floor and under one of the tall curtains. Beyond the partition was another bed.

  Barrett lay propped up and was staring directly at the shadow. “What is that? Hello? Help! Help me!”

  It remembered enough to understand the basic words and his cry of alarm. The shadow darted for a space between the head of the bed and the wall just as Doctor Leavitt pushed through the curtain.

  They were shouting, and Barrett was agitated.

  The shadow wasn’t waiting for them to start a search. It found a convenient outlet and was behind the wall before the doctor could check. But as the doctor retreated to the foot of the bed, the shadow reached out and touched the back of Barrett’s arm.

  “Nothing there,” the doctor was saying. “You’ve been through a high-stress experience. We can give you something to calm you down.”

  “No, nothing. I saw something. It caught the light, and it moved towards the bed.”

  “If it was there, it’s gone now.”

  The shadow waited and listened and watched through Barrett’s eyes. Someone in a hazard suit stepped through the curtain holding a tray with what might have been medical implements or drugs.

  Barrett’s voice had reached a new octave. “I said I don’t want a sedative, Dr. Leavitt. Let me up. I want to get out of this bed. I have to report to my boss, not yours. My agency controls the landing site. It’s my situation.”

  “Not anymore,” Leavitt said. “Not since you let yourself be taken up into space. This is an Army show now. And you need to be debriefed. I want to know what happened up there. What you saw, who and what you met. I want to know about Sylvia Vincent, her daughters, and that ship outside. So I’d advise you take your pills, have a sip of water, and we can talk.”

  Barrett spoke through clenched teeth. “You took my phone.”

  “We can’t clear anything that went up with you. You know that. We don’t know what they did to you. In fact, you, me, and everyone here will be in quarantine. We’re checking for microorganisms first. And with what we heard from Sylvia Vincent, we can’t rule out some agent which might affect the mind.”

  “Okay. Okay. I’ll take my pill.” Barrett accepted a paper cup from the attendant and swallowed a yellow capsule. “Let’s get started. Is there a command tent?”

  “Later. I’ll be back soon. Get comfortable. You’re staying here until we put some fluids in you and we get that hand looked at.”

  Barrett didn’t reply as the doctor departed. The shadow let go of him and receded back into the wall as more people came and went. It found many places where it could peer out into the bustling hospital. In the neighboring curtained-off portion of the room they were working with Jenna Vincent. Dr. Leavitt was consulting with other humans in uniforms on a video screen.

  So much futile purpose.

  But Barrett was alone now. The shadow reemerged. It needed to learn more. Barrett was breathing steadily. His eyes were partially open, his broken hand encased in a plastic cast. The shadow found a place under the bed and reached up to once again touch him. And then the shadow pushed.

  Barrett gasped.

  The shadow felt the human’s mind racing even as whatever pill he had taken dulled his senses. Replaying the events of his recent voyage. The thrill of the launch into space. Fear upon seeing the Cordice caretaker attack them. The frustration when Carmen Vincent questioned his every order with the potential future of his world at stake.

  And there lurking beneath it all was a son posing as a man, a son who ne
ver lived up to his father’s expectations, becoming a federal agent instead of pursuing a career in law.

  More faces in Barrett’s memories. A mate, Danika. His own son, Roger. Both relationships had eroded to an uncomfortable tolerance and lives lived under a single roof while sharing nothing.

  Deeper.

  The shadow probed memories of overheard conversations between colleagues at Homeland Security’s Emergency Preparedness and Response unit who resented Ray Barrett’s rise, calling him a bootlicker and a yes man and much, much worse.

  Deeper.

  A trip to the ocean where a beached jellyfish stung him on the foot.

  The embarrassment of not performing sexually during his sixth date with Veronica, a chemistry lab partner at some place called UNLV.

  Getting second place in an art contest, the image of his mother’s face looking forlornly off into the distance, acrylic on paper.

  Wetting himself during naptime, his first day of kindergarten.

  Raymond Barrett’s nose was itching. The shadow pushed. As much as Barrett wanted—needed—to scratch, he couldn’t. His mind became filled with delicious panic. Not only would his hand not move, but neither would his arms, legs, or mouth even as he wanted to call for help, scream, or whimper.

  The dry tickle only grew, filling Barrett’s left nostril with a maddening tingle. Yet he couldn’t lift a finger. His jaw tremored. Sweat oozed from his brow and his armpits. The shadow held on, eager to see how hard this human would fight.

  Would his bladder release as it had during that noteworthy day from his childhood?

  His brain pathways proved simple enough to nudge. So many neural triggers to be pulled.

  His father’s voice. “Never raised you to take the easy road, Raymond. Waste of your education. If your mother was alive…”

  The voice of his associate director at the agency. “You’re sure you want to file this complaint, Ray? I encourage my agents to solve matters between themselves when it’s something minor like this. A charge like this could permanently stain a career…”

  So many emotions, which the shadow stirred up like ashes in a breeze. The yearning to be accepted by his fellow agents. The possibility of a second chance with Veronica, but he had been too scared to return her texts. A future where he didn’t settle for what amounted to an arranged series of dates by a well-meaning aunt. Where he had the courage to call it off instead of finding himself married.

  And now Agent Barrett, the victim of his own life, couldn’t scratch his nose.

  But the shadow could. It used his nondominant left hand and shared Barrett’s ecstasy as it rubbed the itch into submission. Even allowed Barrett to gasp in delight with the sensation.

  “Feeling better?”

  Dr. Leavitt entered through the curtain. Ice-blue eyes studied Barrett. Barrett made a choking sound as he tried to reply. The shadow stopped pushing.

  “Gah…chk…huh!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Barrett was breathing hard, as if he had been exerting himself. “I don’t know. Something…felt weird. It was like I couldn’t wake up.”

  Leavitt filled a paper cup with water from a yellow plastic jug on a rolling table. The table also had a heart-shaped metallic balloon with the words “Get Well Soon” in bright rainbow colors.

  “You sound parched, Agent Barrett. You’re also exhausted. Lie back and try to relax. I have some good news. From our examination, neither you nor Jenna Vincent are radioactive. In fact, besides your hand, you appear to be in perfect health. No aliens bursting from your chest if that’s what you’re worried about. That was a joke.”

  Barrett composed himself on the bed. Took a drink. “So you’re in charge here, doctor?”

  “Yes, over the landing site here. I hold the rank of major. But you can call me Greta. You look like you need to get some sleep.”

  “Okay, Greta. But I don’t want to sleep. I want to talk. Because you need to hear what I saw while up there. We’re not alone. That sphere which brought us here. Has it left?”

  “It hasn’t moved. And we’ve spotted a second sphere some fifty miles above us. And there’s another beyond that. We’re working on figuring out what they are, exactly.”

  “It’s all part of a single spaceship. And capturing it might be the most important thing that humanity has ever done.”

  The shadow wanted to dismiss the possibility that these simple beings could seize the harvester. But it wouldn’t leave it to chance. Now it would need to not only study these earthlings, but make sure they never captured the Cordice vessel and never ascended beyond their world. That way when those beyond the Wall returned, they could deal with the humans on their lone planet as they had dealt with so many others before.

  Chapter Five

  The Framework entryway extended in every direction, a cavernous interior unlike any of the other spaceships Carmen had seen. The Melded frigate was a hodgepodge of pragmatic design with no eye to symmetry, She Who Waits’ shuttle was elegant and unadorned, and the Cordice ship was efficient and in poor repair. But nothing had prepared her for this. She’d never have thought the alien survivors would have come together to build something so immense.

  She stood on a platform beneath the long corridor that extended back to the airlock. But she felt the encouraging tug of gravity. Without it, she knew it would be difficult to get oriented. Carbon-black girders ran in every direction, forming a network of support buttresses. Distant pools of soft light shone on what appeared to be other platforms. Each had its own orientation on what might be up, which made Carmen believe she was inside a massive cylinder.

  And whoever built the place didn’t believe in guard rails.

  A small ramp led downward. It glowed as she set a tentative foot on it. The bot hovered to follow. Her balance was improving, the earlier case of the dizzies fading. The slope was gentle enough, and the suit afforded her perfect movement, feeling not much more constricting than a tightly zipped-up jacket, if she ignored the helmet.

  The ramp descended towards a waterfall. A stream of misting, trickling water dripped down on a twisting formation of polished stone. Beneath the sculpture was a pool. Globes of light stood around the structure, with paths sloping up and off into the darkness. Looking at the sculpture reminded Carmen of a tangle of limbs, almost as if She Who Waits or one of her kind had allowed themselves to be the model for the artist who had made it.

  The stone held flecks of sparkling gold.

  Looking up, Carmen noted the descending water caught the light and formed a halo. Flecks of water dripped on the bot as it sidled up next to her. Carmen walked around the sculpture and counted seven paths leading away, along with the ramp that would take her back to the shuttle.

  “Which way to find this council?”

  When she received no answer, she knew she would have to either go back or be willing to get lost. She would have to assume the Cordice had a way of keeping tabs on the ship. Did they know the harvester was no longer under her control? Were the Melded part of this council? And if so, would her mother be there?

  It gave her two targets. According to She Who Waits, the Melded were coming back to the Framework. If she could find their ship, she might find her mom and try to bring her to her senses. Or she could face this council. Let them know what had happened, even if she was short on details.

  Retreating to the shuttle began sounding better and better, but she considered one path.

  A lanky form approached down another path that had grown bright. A green eye beamed brilliantly from the hairy face of the Melded she knew as Ovo. He stood tall, with two artificial arms and clumpy fur on his bare chest.

  Ovo had been the medic who had attempted to treat her sister, and the Primary Executive had bloodied his nose for it. Still, he was one of them and had helped keep Carmen a prisoner. He didn’t appear to be armed now, and he raised a hand and paused a few paces from her.

  Using his wrist device, he produced a rolling series of pictographs showing a stick
figure doing…something. She guessed it was either being attacked by arrows or drowning. The images replayed backward and forward, then up and down.

  She made a helpless gesture. “I don’t understand. I’m sorry.”

  His throat swelled. His speech was a grinding, croaking sound.

  A neutral voice spoke from his wrist. “The air is breathable.”

  “I understood that. We can talk? I was told to use the suit.”

  He paused as if listening to something Carmen couldn’t hear. “Yes, I have a rudimentary translation app. You’ll need your suit in certain areas. Not here. This is the atmosphere makeup in our current location on the Framework.”

  The floating images that followed reminded her of the harvester’s virtual controls. But without the harvester’s computer, she could make no sense of them.

  “I can understand you well enough,” she said. “You can skip the pictures. Your app learned English?”

  “Your mother has assisted us.”

  “In just a couple days?”

  He croaked a reply that didn’t receive a translation. He fiddled with his device and the displays vanished. He then turned and took a few steps down the path from which he had come.

  “Follow me.”

  “Where?”

  “To where we wait to hear the outcome of the council’s decisions regarding your future, of course.”

  ***

  Ovo wasn’t stopping to listen to her questions.

  How could she possibly be the topic for the Framework when they had so many other things to worry about?

  The bot from the shuttle puttered along behind her as she trotted to keep up with Ovo’s long steps.

  They approached another sculpture. It was well illuminated and the same size as the one beneath the shuttle, but that was where the similarity ended. The material held the sheen of copper and it appeared to be composed of thousands of smaller identical pieces, each looking like an ear of corn with its husk still on it. As they got closer, the details of the smaller components became clear. It was a statue of bugs. Each insect-like creature had multiple legs, tiny eyes, and mandibles that held the next one above it in place.