And that was the last thing she’d remembered when the tiredness finally overcame her and she’d fallen asleep.
*
When she awoke again, Packham was reading on her bunk and Colt was dozing. Packham heard her stir and tipped her head over the bunk to look at her.
“Hey, that wasn’t long?” she whispered, looking at her watch.
“What’s the time?” Carrie croaked, in desperate need of some more water.
“Almost 2130. You’ve been out for about 45 minutes,” she whispered again, but Colt stirred anyway.
Carrie was feeling weird. Not just because of what had happened, but because of the dream she had just had. She got up slowly, making sure she didn’t fall over again, and headed for the bathroom. Turning on the light, she looked at herself in the mirror. She was taken aback, at first. She hadn’t seen herself since the incident. Half of her left eye was no longer white, but dark red in color. Bloodshot. The cheek underneath was a light purple from where she’d hit the floor. She looked down at her neck and saw a clear handprint across it. There was a distinct bruise from a thumbprint under the left side of her jaw and four small bruises along the right side of her neck. In between these darker bruises, the rest of her neck had turned a faint purple color.
She bent down to the basin, cupped some water in her hands and drank it. She cupped some more and drank and drank until her belly felt full. She turned away, undressed and stepped into the shower. She had to wash the past couple of hours away and refresh herself. She closed her eyes, held her face under the water, and tried to clear her mind, but she couldn’t shake the vision of Grolsh’s face, nor the dream she’d had, from her mind.
In her dream, she’d been standing against a wall with her eyes closed and felt she couldn’t breathe. She opened her eyes and saw Grolsh strangling her again. He was sweating and shaking, squeezing the life out of her. She looked over his shoulder and saw Harris standing there. He gave her an unimpressed look. She turned back to Grolsh, but suddenly realized it wasn’t him strangling her, it was Doc. He was staring at her, sweating and shaking, one hand around her throat, and one on the wall beside her. She panicked and grabbed onto his arm and tried to pull it away from her throat. She looked back at Harris, who was now standing there with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. She looked at Doc and suddenly realized that he wasn’t actually strangling her. His hand was on her throat, but he wasn’t hurting her. He was trying to push himself away, sweating and shaking as he did. Her eyes flew back to Harris and saw he was walking away. She looked at Doc again. He was closer now, failing to hold himself back, shaking, sweating and wincing, one arm against the wall. Her hands slid onto his shoulders. She tried to help him, pushing and pushing, but nothing was happening. His arms slowly began to fold, bringing him closer and closer, until his body was on hers. Her heart was racing and she could feel his was, too. Still fighting to hold himself back, still straining, somehow he movd closer and closer. She felt his breath on her face, his nose touched hers, then brushed her cheek. Then, with her heart racing and breathing rapid, his lips touched hers. Just. That’s when she suddenly woke up.
She stood in the shower, trying to shake the dream from her head, despite her body wanting to be back in it. She took a deep breath and put her arms out against the wall and dipped her head down so that the water ran freely over it. It’s just a stupid dream. Like all the other stupid dreams you’ve been having since coming on this ship. Your subconscious is running wild. Just because Harris wants you to keep your distance, does not mean Doc has feelings for you. Doc is just friendly. He’s a medic and it’s his job to care for people. He said it himself, don’t read anything into him being good at his job.
So why did he block your path both times? Why did he care about what you thought? Why didn’t he just let you go and get over it?
Oh man, the shit you’re in, and this is what you’re thinking about? Grolsh nearly killed you and he’s still on the loose. You’re stuck in the far reaches of the UNF Space Zone, out by The Belt, with a team that barely acknowledges your existence. There are bigger things to think about here!
She sighed and rubbed her hands over her face, resting her forehead against the wall of the shower. Pull yourself together, Welles! You’re screwing this whole thing up. You have to go out there and get back to it. You can’t sit around while they deal with this. You need to step up. You need to be the soldier you know you can be. This shouldn’t have happened, so don’t let it continue to happen. Take responsibility. Go out there and show them your resilience. Show them you can take anything they throw at you.
She pictured her father’s wary, concerned eyes, but it only spurred her on. Don’t fail this! Don’t let your father be right. She climbed out of the shower, dried and dressed herself and when she came back out Packham and Colt were sitting on their beds waiting expectantly for her.
“You okay?” Colt asked her.
Carrie nodded a sharp soldier’s nod and moved to sit on her bed. “How long do you think we’ll be stuck here for?” she croaked.
Colt shrugged.
“I think we should head out and find the others,” Carrie suggested.
“Are you kidding?” Colt looked at her wide-eyed. “Have you not learnt one thing about the captain yet? He’s quite particular about his orders, you know.”
Carrie sighed and slumped back on her bed. “Just tell me where Grolsh is, give me my gun, and I’ll shoot the bastard!” she said.
Packham and Colt grinned at her, then started laughing softly, but it grew, and within seconds they were howling with laughter.
19
The Vanishing
Harris and McKinley reached the flight deck to find Doc and Hunter at the console, with Smith looking over their shoulder.
“What is it?” Harris asked.
Doc motioned for Hunter to speak.
“Captain, I kept thinking about how Grolsh could just disappear like that,” Hunter began, “and I remembered thinking when you guys first boarded the Darwin that it seemed smaller internally than it had looked externally as we approached it.”
Harris stared blankly at Hunter.
Hunter glanced at Doc, then turned around to the console and brought up footage captured from the Aurora’s forward cameras, as they approached the station. Harris studied it closely. It did appear substantially larger than the floor plan suggested.
“Could the extra space just be insulation and purification vents?” he asked Hunter.
“Possibly, but that’s a lot of insulation and shaft space, sir.”
McKinley nodded to himself as he studied the screen. “It would explain where the cat came from. We scanned every inch of that station when we boarded, and other than the four survivors, we didn’t pick up any body heat, human or otherwise.”
Harris looked back at Hunter. “We need to look at this footage and compare it to the floor plans. We need to figure out whether or not it’s possible for there to be a hidden area on the station. I’ll send for Brown and Bolkov to help.”
“Yes, sir,” Hunter nodded.
“Smith, you go watch the other three with Louis and Carter and send the other two up here.”
“Yes, sir,” he said as he turned and left.
*
Harris was looking over the Darwin’s floor plans with Brown, Bolkov, Hunter, McKinley and Doc. Due to the classified nature of the station, they were unable to obtain a satellite image from overhead, but Hunter used the ship’s cameras to estimate the width, using the Aurora and its distance to the station as a comparison. They then compared the width with the floor plans on the screen.
“Width looks fine,” Brown said. “It’s gotta be in the height.”
“Okay, so what’s the height of the Darwin?” Harris asked. “Can we work it out by using the Aurora as a comparison again?”
“Yes, sir,” Bolkov offered, as he began tapping away on the console. Another screen appeared on the flight deck window.
It displayed the image from the Aurora’s forward camera of the Darwin again. As Bolkov’s big hands whisked around the console, the onboard computer took measurements of the distance to the station and the height of it.
“I’ll get the Darwin’s exact floor measurement off one of our comms sets,” Hunter said, bringing up Harris’s headcam on another screen, showing footage from their earlier foray to find Grolsh. Another measurement appeared on Hunter’s screen. Bolkov took note of it and compared it to the measurement on his screen.
“Make sure you allow for the pressurized hull,” Brown told him. “And the insulation, pipework, air purification vents and crawlspace.”
The room waited in silence while Bolkov studied both figures, looking between the screens.
“According to my calculations, captain,” Bolkov began, turning around to lock eyes with him, “there’s plenty room for whole other floor.”
Harris nodded slowly, staring at the floor plan on the screen in front of him.
“That has to be where he is,” Doc said.
“If there’s a whole other floor,” Hunter said thinking aloud, “then what the hell else is up there?”
“And who else is up there?” McKinley added.
Bolkov looked over at him. “You think maybe missing crew up there?”
“Why would they be hiding from us?” Brown asked. “The Spector’s gone, man.”
Harris and Doc exchanged a glance.
“The problem right now,” Harris mused, bringing their focus back and steering them away from speculation, “is finding out how to get to this other floor.”
“Is it worth a transmission to Command?” Doc asked.
Harris nodded. “You’d better join me for this one.”
Doc nodded back.
Harris stood and looked around at his crew. “Keep working on these plans. If you were going to build a hidden floor on a station, where the fuck would you put the door?”
*
“Captain Harris. What is it?” Isaack asked as the transmission connected.
“Colonel Isaack, Professor Martin, as I’m sure you’re aware this is First Lieutenant Walker,” Harris motioned to Doc, who was sitting beside him, “the Aurora’s medic, and my 2IC.”
“Yes, we’re familiar with your crew, captain,” Isaack said nodding at Doc. “What’s this all about?”
“I have reason to believe the floor plans for the Darwin are not complete, sir. I just wanted to ascertain whether there were some, let’s say, more updated versions, or perhaps more classified versions, that you would like to give me?”
Professor Martin interjected. “What do you mean, captain? You have the only set of floor plans there are.”
“The only issued floor plans, professor. I believe there to be secure, hidden rooms on the Darwin that could possibly account for the whereabouts of the missing crew.”
“I’m sorry, captain. What?” Isaack asked, eyebrows raised.
“The station is approximately two stories in height, yet we have access to only one story, sir. It could account for the whereabouts of the missing crew.”
“Captain, are you telling me you think the missing crew are hiding from you on the Darwin?” Colonel Isaack asked in disbelief.
“No, sir, I don’t think it. I’m quite certain of it,” Harris responded. “They’re in hiding, hostage or dead.”
“Why on Earth would they hide, captain,” Isaack asked incredulously, “and why on Earth would you think they were hostage or dead? You found four survivors locked up.”
Harris went to answer, but Martin spoke first. “Captain Harris, we found the missing ship, the Spector. Its homing device had been disabled, but it was spotted docked on Station Babylon approximately two hours ago.”
Harris stared down the screen at them. “Alright, and you were going to tell me this, when?”
“As soon as we had the sighting confirmed and the crew located,” Martin responded.
“So, have you located the crew?”
“Er, well, no. Not yet.” Martin stumbled over his words, as he pushed his glasses up his nose.
“So they’re still missing then?” Harris asked.
“They can’t be too far away,” Martin said.
“And was the Spector’s autopilot engaged?” Harris asked.
“Harris, the Spector is on Babylon, as will be the missing crew. Have you resolved the comms issue yet?” Isaack asked, changing tack.
“Not yet, no.”
“Well, may I ask what you’ve been doing? I believe that was your mission was it not? To resolve the comms issue?”
“Yes, it was, but then we had a case of some missing crew to resolve and a virus watch on our survivors, which, although it turned out to be a false alarm and we released them, has now created another issue. One of the survivors attacked one of my soldiers and the survivor in question is now also missing.”
“Attacked?” Professor Martin’s curiosity was piqued.
“Yes. Tynek Grolsh attacked Corporal Welles.” Harris cringed internally, waiting for the barrage.
“What?” Isaack asked. “I thought I ordered you to leave the women on the ship.”
“I did, colonel. The surviving crew were released according to UNF law, and under our watch, we brought them onto the Aurora. You did not issue me with orders to avoid contact between the new recruits and the Darwin’s crew, sir.”
Isaack shook his head. “So, under your watch, Tynek Grolsh managed to attack one of your 12 soldiers? May I ask what the other 11 soldiers were doing at the time?”
Harris stared at him.
“And her condition, Lieutenant Walker?” Martin asked Doc.
“She’s bruised and battered but she’ll be okay,” he answered.
“And the … nature of the attack?” Martin sounded apprehensive. His eyes stared fixedly at them.
“Asphyxiation. He strangled her,” Doc said.
“I see.” Martin nodded. “And do we know what led to the attack? Did she provoke him in any way?”
“No, sir. He invaded her space, she asked him to move away, then he attacked her,” Doc said firmly.
“And you say that Grolsh is now missing?” Isaack entered back into the conversation.
“Yes, he is,” Harris answered, “and I believe he may be hiding in some secret space on the station, that I was hoping, classification aside, you may be able to point me to.”
“Well, I would love to captain, but I’m afraid that such an area does not exist,” Martin said, almost mockingly.
Harris gave him a flat stare. “Well, do you have any ideas as to how this man could just vanish into thin air?”
Isaack glanced over at Martin, curious for his response.
Professor Martin shrugged and shook his head. “I’m sure you’ve just overlooked him somewhere.”
“I assure you I did not overlook him, professor,” Harris said firmly.
Isaack leaned forward over the table. “Captain Harris, I suggest you stick to your mission and focus on fixing those comms. As you’re aware, when you released the survivors, Professor Martin dispatched a ship to take over the investigation. They will be there in just over two days. They’ll deal with Grolsh then. If he shows his face, you throw him back in that cell, but in the meantime you stick to the plan. Do you understand?” Isaack ordered.
“The missing crew will turn up on Station Babylon, captain. I am sure of it,” Martin added.
“Colonel Isaack,” Doc said, “will Grolsh be formally charged with assault on a UNF soldier?”
“He will be dealt with,” Professor Martin answered for Isaack.
“Good. I’ve kept a detailed record of the incident. I’ll make sure you both get a copy,” Doc told him. His voice was light enough, but Harris could still hear a sharp edge to it.
Martin gave him a slight nod in acknowledgment.
“Are we clear on your orders, captain?” Isaack piped up again. “Fix those comms
.”
“Yes, sir,” Harris said, then leaned forward and ended the communication.
Doc looked at him. “So, did I understand that right? They said forget about trying to find the man who attacked one of our soldiers. And forget about chasing up any lead with regards to hidden chambers on the station, or the missing crew. Just, fix those comms?”
“You understood correctly.”
They both sat there in silence briefly, thinking.
“So, what’s the plan then, Saul?” Doc finally said.
Harris sighed, rubbing his jaw, “Plan is, we put the other three back in the bio cell until Grolsh gives himself up, or until Brown and the guys figure out how to get to where he’s hiding. Meantime, we keep working on the comms to keep Command happy.”
Doc nodded.
“Alright,” Harris said standing up, “we’re going to need all hands on deck. Go get Packham or Colt, or both if possible and bring them back to the flight deck.”
“Yes, sir.”
*
Carrie sat upright when she heard a knock at the door.
“It’s Doc. Open up,” he called.
She felt a flutter of nervousness rush through her at the sound of his voice. Colt opened the door.
“I need a volunteer to come help out on the flight deck,” he told her.
Carrie stood and walked over to the door. “We can all go,” she offered.
Doc eyed her warily. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. I’m good. But I’m going stir-crazy sitting here and so are the others. Let us help.” Her voice was still a little husky, her throat still dry and sore.
“No more dizziness? Did you rest?” he asked, taking hold of her chin and angling it up to view her neck.
“No more dizziness and I did sleep for a bit. I’m all good. I promise.”
“Doc, she’s been fine.” Colt backed her up.
He dropped his hand, eyed the other two women for a second, then looked back at Carrie. “Okay, but I’ll be watching you closely. Light duties only.”
Carrie nodded, tied her hair back in a ponytail, then exited the room with the others.
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