Freedom

by Maureen Toonkel

  “Dead?” echoed Dennis. He looked stunned as did the rest of the gathering. “How?”

  “He was shot when he tried to set off some highly treacherous explosives that would have destroyed the Gladiator. Apparently there is a bomb hidden somewhere aboard our ship. Not only the Gladiator but on ships, buildings, space stations, and who knows where else. It would be impossible to locate all these bombs so the only logical solution is to destroy the mechanism that remotely triggers them to detonate.” It was then the Captain’s turn to tell the story of how the landing party got to this point. He carefully skirted around the part about Shasta’s death, as he avoided revealing who shot the Lieutenant.

  “What a shame to lose such a fine young man,” said Dennis. “But why would he even think of blowing up the Gladiator?”

  Dr. Berg cut in. “He was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder, both from being in captivity and from a bump on the head.” She turned to face Josh. “Captain, may I go check to see what medical supplies might be aboard the pod. Some of us are quite ill with ailments that need immediate attention, including that cut on your head.”

  “Yes, doctor, go ahead.”

  Marlana picked up her backpack and trotted off to the James K. All eyes watched her as she bounced along the uneven grassy path. Josh could not help but think how sexy she was. And he wondered why he found himself being attracted to her. More thoughts for another time.

  “Sir, I noticed right away that the cut on your forehead had re-opened, but what other injuries is Dr. Berg referring to?” asked Dennis once the doctor was out of view.

  “Not really injuries. Rather illness.”

  “Lieutenant Commander, there is a lot of sickness going on in Brisula City. The Flax children are quite ill as are many of the slaves and other Brisulan citizens. I myself have been nauseous and feverish,” inserted Dave Andrews. “Marlana is convinced that it is food poisoning. Most likely from the apples.”

  “But, Captain,, why are people being served poisonous apples?” asked a curious Pearson.

  “That Denny is a great question, and one I intend to find the answer to. But first we need to stop the mandatory apple consumption and tend to all of those who are ill.” Then he turned to Commander Andrews. “By the way, Dave, what was that detour that you and Dr. Berg took?”

  “After you left, Marlana finished examining the children,” explained Andrews. “We then decided to take off and find you. When we opened the door to leave, we were greeted by Lieutenant Shasta and Mrs. Flax. Our whereabouts had been reported by the good Colonel’s wife, and therefore Shasta arrested us. We were taken to the Cages, chained to the fence, and fed fish. The next day the Colonel came and purchased us.”

  “Why on Earth would Mrs. Flax have you arrested?” asked Josh.

  Before Dave could answer, Marlana Berg returned with a medical kit. She began first by cleansing and dressing the Captain’s head wound. Then she gave Dave Andrews a chewable anti-nausea tablet. Looking straight into his face, she handed a tablet to Josh, who sheepishly reached out and took it. Finally, Keith Hampton held his hand out.

  I knew it! He is sick also, chuckled Josh to himself.

  After watching the sun rise over the tree tops and getting some rest on Dr. Berg’s decree, Captain Stoner called his crew to order. He waited patiently as he officers emerged from the circle of tents and gathered again at the huge Boulder. The first topic he wished to discuss was the malfunctioning of the communications system. Ensign Glenna said that she had continued to attempt to contact the Gladiator but to no avail. Dennis Pearson reported that Diane Pearson had likewise been trying without success to break through to the Gladiator, to Lieutenant Shasta, Captain Torgenson, and the Architectural Engineering crew.

  Keith Hampton spoke up. “Both Wayne Shasta’s and Captain Torgenson’s stat phones were working. Wayne’s phone rang when we were standing under the ropes, and he accepted the call. I am sure he was talking to Captain Torgenson. Also if you recall, Dr. Loring’s phone worked.”

  “Hmm,” said Dennis Pearson. “That tells me there is some sort of blocker in place. If I can hack into the main communications terminal, I may be able to remedy the problem.” He jumped to his feet. “I’ll get on it right away. C’mon Rubin let’s get at it.” Realizing what he just did, he turned and looked down at Josh. “Sorry, sir. I meant to inquire if I could have Ensign Rubin’s assistance.” Josh nodded and the two men rushed off.

  “The next order of business is to assemble a troop equipped with weapons that can go down to Brisula City and round up all of the Tradians, Brisulan guards, and Torgenson’s people,” Josh told the rest of the group. He looked at Colin Evans. “How many do you have on the Architectural Team?”

  “About twenty, sir.”

  “Great, we will need every one of them. Let’s go talk to the Commodore.”

  The Captain, Lieutenant Evans, and Keith Hampton set out for the other side of the Lake.

  Meanwhile inside the James T. Kirk, Dennis and Ben Rubin worked furiously to locate the source of the transmission block. After numerous attempts and keying in dozens of commands, Dennis let out a scream, “Hot diggity dog! We’re in!” Up on the monitor screen were the words Tradian Central Communication Control Network. Now that he had gained entrance, the next step was to locate and remove the block. That proved to be rather simple. Obviously, the Tradians were not expecting anyone on Brisula to hack into their system, so there was virtually little to no security measures in place. Pearson was able to not only disable the block, but he was able to reroute the system, so now the Tradians and Torgenson’s men were the ones being shut out.

  “Well, Rubin, let’s test it out. Call Diane Pearson,” ordered Dennis.

  Ben sat down at the console and entered the commands to connect with the Gladiator. The board lit up, and a voice rang out loud and clear through the speakers.

  “U.S.S. Gladiator. Lieutenant Diane Pearson.”

  “It’s me dear,” shouted Dennis excitedly. “We did it. Ben and I solved the communications dilemma. I want to make a few minor adjustments. We’ll call you back soon.”

  Just as Dennis was making the final calibrations, Captain Stoner popped his head in the door.

  “How are we coming?” he inquired.

  “We just talked to Diane,” Dennis announced proudly.

  “Awesome!”

  “I am embarrassed though, sir. I should have thought about a block sooner. I completely forgot that Loring’s phone had worked. I guess at the time I just assumed it was a fluke.”

  “Well, at least you got things working now. Don’t fret about it. Come join us outside.”

  Out on the grass there now stood a camouflage-colored folding table with cellophane wrapped sandwiches, a box of shortbread cookies, and thermoses of steaming black coffee and hot chicken broth. The Captain and Hampton had brought lunch back from the campsite on the other side of the Lake. A lightweight flatbed dolly was parked up against a nearby elm tree. Dr. Berg was loading up a hypodermic needle. Josh had spoken to the Architectural Engineering Team’s doctor who then gave him some vials of medicine to bring back to Dr. Berg. Marlana said it was a more potent form of anti-nausea medication. She injected Andrews, Hampton and the Captain. She also warned the three to eat only the soup and drink lots of liquids.

  Josh filled the group in on his conversation with Commodore Naper, going over the plans they were getting ready to put in place. The best time to attack was after dark when the Brisulan citizens were confined to their homes. Likewise, the slaves would all be contained in the Cages, and Tradian Central would be shut down for the night. The plan was to begin the descent into the city at 2200.

  “In the meantime,” concluded Josh, “we need to get Commander Andrews and Dr. Berg back to the Gladiator.”

  “Josh, no,” protested Dave Andrews. “I’m feeling better, honestly. I want to stay and help.”

  “I obviously can’t know how you are feeling, but you look awful,” responded the Captain. “
Dr. Berg needs to return to the ship and figure out what we’ve been poisoned with and find an antidote. She will require blood samples and a test subject, so I am assigning you to be her guinea pig.” He winked at Marlana who had been nodding her head in agreement with Josh’s orders. Then he continued, “Besides, I need you to take the conn.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Dave with resignation in his voice.

  “Good, then let’s get the John Glenn reared up and ready for takeoff. Keith, I’d like you to pilot the pod back to the Gladiator and then return here.”

  “Yes, sir,” answered Keith. He walked over to the doctor and held out his hands. He was holding two items. Referring to the small bundle wrapped in a piece of cloth, he explained, “This is the hypodermic needle that I found in a barrel of apples. There is also a chunk of apple.” Marlana took the package from Keith’s hand and murmured a thank you. “And this,” continued Hampton who was left holding a brown shriveled up apple core, “is all that’s left from an apple containing a drug of some sort that put the Captain and me to sleep.”

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Hampton. These along with Dave’s blood will be an excellent way to begin my research.” Marlana zipped open her backpack and dropped in the two items.

  “Doctor, before you go, may I ask you a question?” inquired Dennis Pearson. Marlana nodded her approval. “I’ve been meaning to ask this for a while now. Where is Penelope?”

  Marlana sighed and for a moment Dennis and some of the others were sure she was going to tell them that the cat had been killed. Instead she smiled and said “Penelope is fine. I left her with the Flax family. Salton promised to take good care of her, and I swore I would come back for her.”

  “Doctor, we will retrieve Penelope. You have my word,” said Josh. “I’ve grown quite fond of that cat.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  June 26, 1700 Hours

  Maybe I will wake up and realize that the last three days were all a dream. Ha, that’s wishful thinking. How could so much have gone wrong in such a short time span? Beverly’s betrayal, Wayne’s death, and being poisoned. Yeah, and there is still the matter of treason hanging out there. My life has completely spun out of control. And I have no idea if there is a way to avoid the eventual crash. The Captain has good intentions, but the reality is that the outcome is totally out of his hands.

  “Approaching Brisula. Prepare to descend.” Ensign Saad’s voice blared through the intercom of the John Glenn interrupting Keith Hampton’s thoughts.

  “Thank you, Mo,” responded Keith. He adjusted the dials on the panel and steered the pod to the designated landing area, deftly bringing the spacecraft down onto the Brisulan grassy plain. A small welcoming committee made up of Seaman Chase and Bonnie Shea awaited his arrival. They had brought the hand truck. The two assisted Keith in unloading the items he had hauled back from the Gladiator; food, drinks, and sleeping bags.

  “I am so sorry to hear about Wayne,” said Bonnie as they crossed the field heading to the James K. “It must be very hard for you. I know that you and Wayne were very close.”

  “Yes,” said Keith softly. This is not something I want to talk about. I am not ready yet to fully accept Wayne’s death and my part in it. “I’m still in shock.”

  “How did it happen? Did you see Wayne get shot? Did he die instantly?” inquired Bonnie, her love for gossip obviously getting the best of her.

  How do I answer those questions? Keith asked himself. When he and Captain Stoner had walked along the path from the Architectural Engineering Team’s camp on their way back to the James K, Keith had admitted to the Captain that he was not sure how to tell his crewmates how Wayne had actually died. He thanked the Captain for not saying how Wayne was killed and therefore giving him more time to process what happened. The Captain had told him that the old adage, time heals all wounds, was really true. Eventually, he would be able to accept what occurred and stop blaming himself. The Captain also told him that with everything going on, the crew did not need to be distracted by the details of Wayne’s death. There would be an appropriate time to reveal all the facts.

  “Bonnie, I really am not ready to talk about Wayne’s passing,” said Keith. “Ask me again later.”

  “OK, but can’t you just tell me who shot him?”

  They had reached the James K. Captain Stoner spotted them and walked over.

  “Keith, Wayne was a friend of mine too. I just want to know who shot him. It would ease my mind,” continued Bonnie.

  Gosh, won’t she give up? Keith glanced at Josh Stoner who was close enough to have heard Bonnie’s question.

  “Lieutenant Shea,” said Josh sternly. “When we return to the Gladiator, I will present a briefing that will include the circumstances of Lieutenant Shasta’s death. In the meantime we have other pressing matters. Also, please allow Keith to have the time he needs to grieve for his friend.” He turned his attention to Hampton. “Any news on Commander Andrews?”

  “When I left, Dr. Berg and Dr. Carter were examining him in Sick Bay. Dr. Berg gave the needle and apples to the lab technicians to begin testing procedures,” responded Keith.

  “Great,” said Josh. “Lieutenant Shea and Seaman Chase, please unload the new supplies. Keith, come with me. We are mapping out the routes we will need to travel when we are down in the City.”

  Keith followed the Captain over to the camouflage folding table that earlier was filled with food and drinks. Now maps of Brisula were sprawled across the table top. Several yards from the table, at the edge of the hole, a team of engineers were busy hooking up and then lowering down additional ropes. Keith learned that there were going to be two teams, headed by Captain Stoner and himself. Keith was told he and his team were being charged with finding Victor Torgenson. The Captain’s team would be going down to the Cages with the mission of freeing the slaves and organizing them into an army to assist with rounding up the Tradians and the guards. They would begin to descend into the City in four hours. At 2100 Brisula was locked down for the night thus giving them easier access to move about.

  Keith spent the time he had left plotting routes for the two teams. Captain Stoner’s was relatively easy: go down the 7 Passageway, take a right on the E Lane, go one block, then take a left on the 4 Passageway, then another left onto the D Lane, go past the Medical Lab, and take a right back onto the 7 Passageway. Next it was a right on the C Lane followed by a left onto the 4 Passageway, which led straight to the slave cages. The route for the other team, his team, was more difficult. They did not know where Captain Torgenson was. He could literally be anywhere. Did he have an apartment? Or did he have quarters in Tradian Central? Perhaps he had living space in the back of the Dispatch office. Keith decided that the most logical place to start was Dispatch. Torgenson might still be on duty. Even if that was not where he camped out, there would be someone manning the desk, maybe Danielli. They could apprehend that officer and get him to tell them where Torgenson was. If that didn’t work they would head over to the Communications Station and see if they could retrieve any information from the computers.

  I wonder where Wayne lived on Brisula. It would be good to be able to retrieve his personal belongings and ship them home with his body. I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Shasta and Becky would appreciate having those items. I remember helping him pack up his stuff and feeling so abandoned when he decided to leave the Gladiator. But Wayne was ecstatic and couldn’t stop talking about this glorious opportunity to go back to Brisula and help the slaves. And now he is dead. Keith shook his head. I need to stop thinking about Wayne. At least for right now. He got up, retrieved the maps, and walked over to the James K.

  Beverly was sitting at the computer station. He politely asked her if he could use the system. She nodded and without saying a word she moved over to the seat behind the helm. Keith could feel her eyes watching him. I also need to stop thinking about Beverly. He fed the routes he had been working on into the computer and entered the print command. Normally he would transfer the maps onto portable
devices like the stat phone or a tablet, but with the unstable communications systems they were dealing with, plain old paper was the most reliable means. He grabbed the newly printed maps from the printer and left without saying anything or looking back at Ensign Glenna.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  June 26, 2100 Hours

  The teams were beginning to assemble at the ropes. Keith handed the Captain’s route to him along with several copies. There were fifteen officers in each team. Keith’s team consisted of Dennis Pearson, Bonnie Shea, Ben Rubin and eleven members of the Architectural Engineering Team. He looked over at the Captain’s team and saw Gladiator officers Neil Chase and Amanda Rugan. The rest of the party was made up entirely of Architectural Engineering crew including Commodore Naper and Lieutenant Evans. Captain Stoner announced that Jackson Greene would be staying topside to maintain the communications systems. Ensign Glenna would be assisting him. There were also two officers remaining behind on the other side of the Lake to keep watch.

  It was time. One by one the officers stepped up to the hole in the earth, grabbed hold of a rope and maneuvered themselves down to the sleeping city below.

  Marlana Berg used her wrist to stifle a yawn. She was having trouble shaking off the mounting fatigue from her ordeal on Brisula. But she couldn’t afford to sleep or even nap. Not with Dave Andrews so close to death. And the others down below: the Flax children, the Captain, Keith Hampton, Bess Tremont, and scores of slaves and Brisulan citizens. She continued to review the information on the computer monitor. There were so many ailments with the same symptoms as those who were suffering. Nausea, fever, chills, dehydration. It could be the results of a thousand different things including poisoning. She was pretty sure that some type of poison was involved. But, without knowing what toxins had been introduced to the victims, there was no way to determine the appropriate treatment.