Relic Tech

by Terry W. Ervin II

  “No problem. I’m awake, Doctor,” she responded.

  I stepped into the sterile room. Standard white bedding covered her, drawing attention up to her violet eyes. Her face erupted in a wide grin.

  “Three minutes,” warned Dr. Sevanto.

  I checked my watch. “Honestly, that’s all the time I have.”

  Specialist Tahgs waved me over. “I was hoping to see you.” She started to sit up, but her face showed pain.

  “Wait,” I said, examining the bed controls.

  She blushed and slid her fingers over the panel, directed the bed to elevate her while rolling her eyes. “I only work in medical.” With a big grin she added, “I just wanted to say thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I was simply doing my duty. Following orders.”

  “That’s not the way Dr. Sevanto told it.”

  “Dr. Sevanto may be knowledgeable about medical procedures, but I suspect he’s lacking in the area of security procedures.”

  “What about Chief Brold?”

  I wanted to move on. Visiting may have been an error, but it would’ve been awkward if Specialist Tahgs learned I tried to look in on Tech Cox and ignored her. “I’m sorry you took a round to your abdomen.”

  “I’ll heal. And don’t downplay your part. I was there, remember?”

  “Understood. I’m also glad that Tech Cox will fully recover.”

  “Benny and I go way back. He’s anxious to meet you. That’s why he checked out early.”

  “I guess we were thinking along the same lines.” I glanced at my watch.

  “Before you leave, I have something that’s yours.” She pulled a pale pink handkerchief from under the covers. “Stained, sorry.” Her smile disappeared. “Med Tech Merriam says it’s all natural cotton.”

  She was a little hesitant to give it up. “You’re welcome to hold onto it,” I said. “Maybe as a good luck charm? If you believe in such things.” She offered it again. I held up my hand. “I know how to get the stains out. I’ll relay the information to you.”

  “Thank you. Would you?”

  I looked at my watch again. “Chief Brold wouldn’t look kindly upon a late arrival.”

  “Please, stop in again.”

  I slid toward the door. “When are you expected to be back on duty?”

  “Two days.”

  “Dr. Sevanto insisted I have my hearing checked,” I said.

  She flipped her hair revealing an ear. “He did mine.”

  “I’ll try to schedule it for two days from now. And I’ll send the cleaning instructions.”

  “This place is very boring.”

  “Well, maybe it is where you are, now,” I said, standing in the doorway, “but I have about nineteen hundred and thirty-seven things to accomplish in the next forty-eight hours.”

  She waved. I gave her a thumbs-up.

  I recorded in my electronic notebook a reminder to schedule an appointment, and then double-timed it to the meeting. Even though I was two minutes early, everyone was waiting.

  Gudkov looked unhappiest of them all. “About time, C4.”

  I considered responding to Gudkov’s remark, but didn’t.

  “I better get my leave,” he continued. “That’s all I have to say.”

  “That’s all you’ve had to say,” said Nist.

  “I heard we bought the contract of a sec-spec,” Frost said. “You should be happy about that.”

  “Keesay here said he wasn’t impressed with them,” Gudkov said. “Undoubtedly about as worthless as you.”

  “Enough,” warned Club.

  “Too bad,” said Nist. “Not often you hear Gudkov saying anything positive about anyone’s opinion.”

  “But his own,” Frost muttered.

  “Frost,” said Gudkov, looking from him to me, “I care about his opinion just above yours. His ranks just below your average blood-maggot.”

  Enough is right, I thought, before saying, “I’m devastated, Specialist Gudkov. Wait.” I feigned thought by rubbing my chin. “I would be, if I cared about your opinion. May I retract my previous statement?”

  “Who here knows what enough means?” asked Specialist Club, standing up. “Nist, wipe that smile off your face. Gudkov, taking out your frustration on everyone else won’t encourage the chief to reinstate leave.” She crossed her arms. “I’ve got more file work than I can handle. Open your mouth again and I’ll consider it a formal request to be my assistant on your off-duty hours.” She glared at me, “Same for you, Keesay.”

  Time itself must have been intimidated by Club’s speech as the next thirty seconds seemed unwilling to pass. Eventually, the door opened, right on time. We filed in. Standing next to the chief was Specialist Haxon.

  “There’s your man, quick-draw,” chided Gudkov.

  “Thank you for volunteering,” Club said. “Report to me after the meeting. We’ll coordinate your additional duty.”

  She shot a glance at me while Gudkov took in a sharp breath and turned red. I took the nearest seat, remaining oblivious to either’s stare.

  “This is the newest member to our team,” started the chief. “Class 3 Security Specialist Gable Haxon comes to us from Quinn Mining.” After the chief had introduced each of us, Haxon sat down and the chief continued. “Specialist Haxon will be our floater. Assigned depending upon need, by either Club or myself.”

  Chief Brold covered routine information, progress reports and updates. Replacing his toothpick, he looked to the new man. “Specialist Haxon, everyone here has reviewed the recordings and read the incident reports. Would you update us on what you know of the incident, and any connection with the rogue sec-bots on the Mavinrom Dock?”

  Haxon stood. “Well, Chief, I was able to briefly review the Kalavar’s material prior to this meeting. The follow-up investigation concurs with Specialist Nist’s findings.” He sounded less than eager to endorse Nist’s competence. “As you know, Chief, Supervisor Gaverall believes the attempted abduction was tied to the three sec-bots detaching from security override. They fired on both passengers and station personnel. Gaverall believes the maintenance technician and the security specialist didn’t have the programming skills to accomplish it. Dock Security is following up on several leads. But with the two known individuals dead, it’s difficult.”

  Haxon looked at me. I withheld a shrug. He continued. “It is believed that the offenders were attempting to gain information on relic tech colonists. The rogue sec-bots drew security resources. Twenty-seven wounded and fourteen killed. Medical response to the emergency reduced support for cold sleep recovery.”

  “Two of the dead are colonial marines who responded to the crisis.” It was Corporal Smith’s voice.

  “Thank you, Corporal Smith,” interrupted Chief Brold. “I have invited the corporal to listen in from the monitoring station while he covers.” He set the toothpick on his desk. “Continue.”

  “He is correct,” said Haxon. “Along with one security.” He paused. “It is believed that if they had been successful, the two offenders would’ve moved on their target.”

  “Thank you, Specialist,” said Chief Brold. “Now, a few of you might be wondering, R-Tech colonists, a target?” He scanned his security team. “Someone is serious. The cold sleep drugs were tampered with prior to the colonists taking the final preparatory regimen. According to Dr. Sevanto, our med team back on Earth was sharp. Identified the problem, and introduced a countering medication that saved all but two colonists. They’re all sicker than dogs.” He tapped a few times on his desk while he finished. “And none too happy.” He looked to me. “Keesay, I’d like to hear your opinion. Speculate.”

  I stood, gathered my thoughts, and said to Haxon, “Apologies for killing the two offenders, and thus making the investigation more difficult. I’m now even more convinced that there was little choice. It’s apparent that the two offenders lacked any inhibition with respect to killing, if they were related to the rogues.”

  I looked at the chief. “It’
s possible that one of the colonists is a target of a crime syndicate,” I lied. “Going underground into R-Tech communities isn’t unheard of, especially in larger cities.” I looked at the others. “I can think of three syndicates which would have the resources to infiltrate medical facilities on Earth, and would have the funds to entice otherwise loyal company personnel to illegal action.” I licked my lips. “Specialist Dribbs seemed advanced in age to be a C3 and he lacked the temperament to be a good sec-spec. Possibly that’s why he hadn’t advanced. It’s more likely he transferred from a different career track. I haven’t seen his file.” Everyone but Gudkov appeared to be listening. “Either would make him more susceptible to influence by unsavory individuals.”

  Gudkov stood. “I would like to make a comment or two, Chief.”

  The chief squinted just a bit, “Okay, Gudkov. Stay on topic.”

  “All Keesay has spouted is unfounded fantasy.” Gudkov looked at his peers then back to me. “Chief, this Relic Tech is a liability. He didn’t even know what was happening when the offenders were attempting to access Specialist Tahgs’s clip. The company had to get a sec-bot to back him up.”

  The chief nodded toward me.

  “Auxiliary Security Specialist Gudkov,” I said, “I appreciate your candor. But you are allowing personal views to interfere with your reasoning. I suspect it never occurred to you that I just might have access to information not available to you.”

  “Anything of importance anybody shares with you is a mistake, Relic.”

  “Let’s get this aired out now,” said Chief Brold. He looked from Gudkov to me, and then the rest of the group. “What’s said in here, stays in here. Ends in here.”

  This emboldened Gudkov, but I was ready. “Surely,” I said, facing Gudkov, “your assertion is based on more than your revered opinion—and by the way Negral acquired three sec-bots. What other two incompetents are they teamed with?” I knew one had been assigned to Club, and the other to standing patrol around engineering.

  “You want facts?” asked Gudkov, reddening. “How about two Negral Corp personnel wounded in your botched rescue effort? If you had training with modern communications equipment and didn’t carry outdated firearms, you might be useful.”

  Chief Brold acted as a gatekeeper, indicating my turn with a nod.

  “Ignore the fact that I’m fully trained and competent with the model MP pistol you carry. Please clarify. How would you have done better?”

  “First, I have an ocular.” He pointed to the contact lens in his left eye.

  “Very advanced,” I said. “I am impressed.”

  “I could’ve called up a schematic on the room to be entered. Second, your vast and in-depth training should allow you to know that the rate of fire of my medium duty MP pistol far exceeds that slab of steel you carry. I would’ve taken out both offenders in half the time it took you.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “Are you calling me a liar?”

  “No, I am stopping just short of calling you ignorant.”

  “Would you like to see just how fast I am?”

  “Gentlemen,” warned the chief.

  I took a breath. “I have little doubt that you’re fast. And you may even be more accurate than me, but both of those points are irrelevant.”

  “How could accuracy and firepower be irrelevant in a rescue situation?”

  “They’re not,” I said. “Your equipment is the issue. If you’d been the one escorting Dr. Sevanto, you would have wandered past the abduction area without even knowing there was a problem. My communications gear isn’t implanted.” I pointed to the set on my belt. “It is larger and less modern, but even more pertinent to this incident, affords vastly superior reception.” I let it sink in. “I was barely able to receive Specialist Tahgs’ distress call. You, with your modern I-Tech equipment,” I said, tugging at my ear, “would have missed it. Am I correct?”

  His eyes darted to Brold, then Club then Nist and Frost. He clenched his jaw.

  “If you recall,” I continued, “my report stated Maintenance Tech Cox had been shot prior to my intervention. Interviews with Administrative Specialist Tahgs confirmed this.” I saw his mind racing to recall the details of my report. “And it’s not always how many rounds you fire, but where you place them.”

  He gave up. “You were lucky.”

  “Quite possible.” I figured I had better soften the landing. “You were correct about the ocular. Negral has one, less advanced to be sure, on order.”

  “Don’t patronize me, Relic.” He clenched his hands into fists and sat down.

  I stared at him. “You were a champion kick boxer. You didn’t achieve that by allowing emotions to run your thoughts and actions. Nobody can remain long in your career track who lacks above standard intelligence.”

  “I’m tired of your lips flapping,” he said, again standing. “I was calm and focused enough to kill two opponents in the ring.” His grin was mildly intimidating. “I sparred with your pal, Pillar, last time we docked. He was almost challenging.” Gudkov cracked his knuckles. “Care to go a round or two with me?”

  “When your body count is up to seventeen,” I said, resting my hand on my sheathed bayonet, “let me know.”

  “Are you gentlemen done?” asked the chief. It wasn’t a question. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought you two didn’t like each other.” He stood and addressed the room. “On behalf of everyone, I would like to thank you for your first and final performance. If you gentlemen get into it, it’ll be more than the end of your careers.”

  He looked at the chronometer, then scanned a file on his desk. “Well, Keesay, you were close.”

  I felt Gudkov’s gaze and heard Nist suppress a snicker. The chief shot him a glance. Nist sat up, expressionless.

  Complete order restored, the chief continued. “To end the mystery, the apparent target among the R-Tech colonists was eliminated. He’d been a whistle blower in a patent dispute and was in a witness protection program. They got a lead on him, possibly through a communication made by his son. According to medical, the chemical agent placed in the cold sleep drugs was genetically targeted.” He scanned the assemblage. “One for the bad guys.”

  He tapped at his desk a few more times. “Anything else to add, Specialist Club?”

  She stood. “No, Chief.”

  “Good. Assignments are posted. Those scheduled for leave, forty-seven hours. Enjoy.” The door opened. “Welcome aboard, Haxon.” Chief Brold clenched the red stick between his teeth.

  Everyone filed out except me.

  “Keesay,” questioned the chief, “should I schedule time after each meeting especially for you?” He closed the door.

  “Your call, Chief.”

  “Let’s hear it, Specialist.”

  “Your account of the slain R-Tech colonist was accurate?”

  “About as accurate as your rendition. I just took what you had to say and gave it my own touch.”

  “Would I be out of bounds to ask why, Chief?”

  “Yes.”

  Nothing more? I tried a different approach. “It’s just that there’s an awful lot of…activity. The incident exiting the shuttle, the planting of the A-Tech explosive, poisoned colonists and now the attempt to obtain files on the colonists.”

  “Your point being, Keesay?”

  “Although I have no evidence, I suspect there’s a connection.” I also suspected Chief Brold did as well.

  The chief leaned back. “How do you figure?”

  I recounted my conversation with Field Director Simms. “Dribbs was involved twice. He tried to kill the only surviving offender outside the shuttle, after wounding him. And of course, he abducted Tahgs and Cox.” No sense tipping my hand any more than necessary. “Can you tell me if the chemical agent planted in the cold sleep drugs was DNA specific?”

  “I will not deny it.”

  Interesting choice of words, I thought. “Was it targeted at the dead colonists?”

 
; “I will not confirm that.”

  “So, whoever was targeted is still alive.”

  “It’s possible,” said the chief. “If you figure it out, Keesay, let me know.”

  Either the chief didn’t know and, if I figured it out, he wanted to know. Or he knew and simply wanted to be informed when, and if, I figured it out. I suspected the latter. “Understood, Chief.” Was it that he didn’t trust me, or that I was only a C4?

  “Keesay,” he said with a smile, “I understand that you’ve talked one of the maintenance techs into making a set of brass knuckles.”

  The chief impressed me with knowledge of something so minor. “That is correct. I bartered away my other set.”

  “These are titanium?”

  I hadn’t received them yet, but titanium would do. “I traded a few gum wraps. Asked a maintenance tech to use whatever scrap he could find.”

  “They won’t make a difference with Gudkov.”

  “That wasn’t my intention.” I scratched my head. “Why does he put up with Nist?”

  “Gudkov? I’m not sure. If you figure that one out, let me know as well. Dismissed.”

  With a third of the Kalavar’s crew on leave, it was easy to find a seat for the evening meal. I recognized some of the maintenance techs, including Benjamin Cox.

  “Chicken patty again, Keesay?” asked Maintenance Tech Segreti.

  “Seemed safest.” I sat down next to him and across from Cox and Minapp.

  “You don’t act like one who takes the safe route.”

  “Only when it comes to my stomach, Segreti.” Benjamin Cox remained focused on his meal. “How’s your leg, Technician Cox?”

  He looked up and stared at me a second. “Just fine. Call me Benny.” He went back to eating.

  “Benny likes to savor the fine cuisine,” said Minapp. “He’ll talk after he’s done.”

  “Have you gentlemen completed the colonist quartering?”

  “Are you kidding?” asked Segreti. “Give us two more days.” He rummaged through a pocket. “Here.” He slid a bundled shop rag next to my tray.

  “That’s all the time you have,” I said, before folding open the rag. “The chief informed me that you were working on these. Said they’re titanium.”