He was several meters down the corridor at an open door when the full impact of what he’d said hit her.
Wait, my pleasure? Why you little . . .
"Captain Martin, I’ve brought Commander Harlan as you requested. Do you need anything else?"
A wet, hacking cough preceded Martin’s reply, and his pain banished all thoughts of Janbi from Mira’s mind. She ran to the open cabin door, and saw the captain sitting up in bed and wiping blood away from his mouth.
"No, that’s all right, son. Thank you. Just wait outsi—"
This close to the captain, his pain was almost overpowering. But Mira’s mental companions knew a few tricks for dealing with it. She tugged on his memories until one from his childhood popped up, and she massaged it into a warm, soothing blanket to wrap around his mind.
Aloysius
WELL, THAT’S NEW.
Martin’s pain subsided, and the warm feeling that replaced it was more than a little nostalgic. He smelled something spicy that reminded him of cold winter afternoons spent watching the snow pile up outside while his great-grandfather explained how in his day, life was simpler, and "you boys best not forget where we came from!"
Opa. Haven’t thought about him since…
Gerolt Maarten was one hundred and forty-seven years old when his great-grandson had entered the Academy, and almost lived long enough to attend his graduation. He did get to see Aloysius wear his uniform one time, on a visit home that also involved snowdrifts and hot cider.
Now, where did that come from, I wonder?
Martin opened his eyes, and saw Mira Harlan sitting beside him. For a moment, she was framed by a sky full of stars and an old oak tree, but then the familiar confines of his cabin surrounded them both. She was wearing a set of ship blues, but the last time he checked her name wasn’t Marcus Callaway.
Apparently my pilot’s clothes made it aboard, even if he didn’t.
"You’re out of uniform, Harlan."
Harlan’s smile made him feel almost as good as whatever drugs the gennies were pumping into him. There was something about her face that seemed off, but his head was still fuzzy.
"Yes, sir. It was these or your formals, and I didn’t think that appropriate at the time."
"Well, you’ll get your command soon enough. Might as well get used to people calling you ‘Captain.’"
Maybe it’s her eyes. Were they always that color?
Admittedly, Martin hadn’t spent a lot of time in Harlan’s company, but there was something different about her. She was . . . softer somehow, as if some of her hard edges had been knocked off during their escape.
"I’m not so sure about that, sir. Since the last interaction I had with the fleet involved missiles and a bit of treason, I don’t think either of us is in their good graces right now. Sir, Janbi said you wanted to talk to me?"
Martin grunted, then wished he hadn’t. A fresh round of coughing brought up more blood, and Harlan had to ease him back into a sitting position. A fresh wave of warmth washed over him, and had the distinct impression it originated from her. He still didn’t know what was bothering him about his second-in-command, but she was right. There were things to discuss.
"So that Carlton kid, he told you what’s wrong with me?"
"Yes, sir. Vasogenic cerebral edema. Your brain’s getting too big for your skull, thanks to all the hits to the head you took. I’d tell you that you should have kept your helmet on, but we were both pretty helpless by the time the mods captured the shuttle. But you also got shot a couple times and didn’t tell anybody, and that’s what’s killing you."
Martin nodded, glad the pain in his head was finally gone.
"Wrong tense there, Harlan. I’m dead already. Only question is, what can I do to help you and those kids before I check out completely?"
Harlan squeezed his hand, and when she did, something like feathers tickled the back of his head. Her smile was infectious, and he was about to laugh when he remembered what happened the last time he tried it.
No sense making things worse. Didn’t she used to have freckles? Maybe that was one of the others. It’s hard to think straight right now.
"Sir, I need you to tell me about the Alpha. Specifically that sleeper unit. Where and when you found it, and what kind of shape it was in."
Martin chanced a look around his cabin. Most of his effects were back on the Valiant, but this shuttle had been his real home for a while now. Four months of detached duty with Horace Kołodziejski and his black hats while Bill Williams built him a crew he could trust, and then a month hiding out with the gennie on the other end of a hyper tunnel while things cooled off enough for him to return to the Valiant.
It seemed a reasonable enough place to die. His books were here, as well as his chess set. Gerolt claimed he’d carved it from a fallen tree after it had been split by lightning, but when one of the pawns was damaged a few years after the old man died, he’d found an identical replacement in an Amsterdam flea market.
"Sir?"
Harlan. Right. There was something I was going to tell her, something important.
"Sir? The Alpha?"
"I stole it. Off the Tribune. Horace was moving it around the system as an insurance policy in case our people found out about it. He was right, of course, but at the time he thought I was working for his side. When I saw my chance, I corralled a couple techs I could trust and we grabbed the thing and ran."
Harlan nodded, but her eyes were still fixed on his face. The feathers tickled him again, and her look of concentration intensified.
Is there something on my face?
"Anything else, sir? Did you detect any signals maybe when you moved it?"
Martin tried to remember what it was he needed to do. It was hard to think, when all he wanted to do was sleep.
"Did I ever tell you about my opa? He was full of crazy old sayings. My brother and I could predict which one was coming after a while, based on his mood. But his favorite of all was,’de eersten zullen de laatsten zijn.’"
Gerolt loved working with wood, but Martin never had the patience. The carved chess set was his favorite, and he always praised the boys for their skill at the game.
"Sir? Sir, I don’t speak Dutch. You asked to see me, sir. Was there something you wanted to tell me? About the Alpha? The shuttle’s computer core is damaged, and most of the proof you said was in there is corrupted."
Harlan? When did she get here? There was something I wanted to tell her, something important.
"Captain? I feel you slipping away, and I don’t know how to help you. Is there something you want to tell me? Something important?"
Mira Harlan, that’s her name. Top of her class. One of Maranova’s "bright stars . . ."
Martin smiled. Harlan was a good kid. Bill Williams said she had potential, and he kept her on when he re-staffed the Valiant.
"We should probably bring her in, don’t you think, Bill? She’s got brains, and a good heart. She’ll know what to do when the time comes."
Martin looked to his left, but Commander Williams was missing. He thought he heard someone talking, someone yelling, and then his world caught on fire. It was hard to breathe, and when the coughing started again something tore inside him. Strong hands held him up, and wiped something warm and wet from his face.
"Captain? Can you hear me?"
"Ha-Harlan, is that you?"
Martin blinked his eyes, but he couldn’t make out where she was. Everything was white and gray clouds, and the pounding in his head wouldn’t stop.
"It’s me, sir. Don’t try to talk. If you can, just think about what you want to say, and I’ll try to translate it into terms I can understand."
"What’s . . . what’s happening to me?
"You’ve been injured, sir. You’re dying. I can take away your pain, but when I do it clouds your mind. You called me in here to tell me something. Was it about the Alpha?"
Martin took in a breath to speak, but doing so sent pain throughout his chest. Afte
r another round of coughing he decided just to nod, and try doing what Harlan suggested.
Yes. The Alpha. You have to get it to safety.
Harlan’s hand squeezed his, and the warmth in his mind went up a notch. Martin wasn’t sure what exactly was happening, but at least the pain was getting easier to handle. Harlan’s voice came from floating down from somewhere above the clouds.
"I know, sir, we’re trying. There’s a signal of some kind coming from the unit. I think it’s what let Captain Kołodziejski locate the Valiant, but I don’t know enough about what you were planning to turn it to our advantage. Can you tell me how to turn it off?"
Connect it to a power source. Damn. You have to get out of here. How long has it been transmitting?
Martin tried to get up, but his arms refused to do his bidding. Harlan squeezed his hand again, and then continued speaking in her far away voice.
"I’m going to go with too long. And things here are . . . complex. The Colonials are debating what to do about the Alpha, but your contacts are the most important thing right now. We found a course in the core for someplace called the Harrison Institute; near as I can tell it’s about a thousand kilometers northeast from here.
"The shuttle will fly, but it’s in no shape for a fight and these kids don’t know the first thing about space warfare. They’re smart, and lucky, but our people have been training for this a long time. They’ll—we’ll be picked off as soon as we break atmosphere."
A fresh round of coughing doubled Martin over and set his head spinning. He could feel Harlan’s arms around him, but he couldn’t summon the strength to do what had to be done. When he could breathe again, he put everything he had into three words.
"I’ll . . . do . . . it."
"Sir, no. We can figure out a remote . . ."
"Only . . . play. Sacrifice . . . knight, save . . . queen."
Martin felt a small cold spot on the back of his neck, then another. Harlan started to speak several times but, for some reason, never finished. When he heard her voice again, it had undertones of sadness and resignation.
"What do you need me to do?"
Jantine
JANTINE STARED AT THE SLEEPER UNIT AS CARLTON and an Omega fussed over its controls. Once JonB had righted the shuttle, it hadn’t taken long to move the mods’ remaining supplies outside— as well as the bulky sleeper unit back in.
A warm night breeze came in through the side of the shuttle and blew past her down the ramp. The image of Crassus sailing away into the open sky kept playing in her mind, and she was only half-listening to Mira speak.
". . . should keep him conscious long enough to get far away from here, but I can’t say for sure. I’ve used a technique on him that will handle most of the pain, while keeping him lucid. He’s still going to die, but he can at least provide a distraction and help us get away."
From what Jantine understood, Captain Martin’s plan was a good one. And if Carlton said the captain was sound enough to pull it off, she believed him.
The bigger problem was what Carlton was doing right now. The choice to revive the Alpha was out of her hands entirely. Before discovering the distress signal, she could delay it indefinitely and maintain command of the mission. Now that there was no other option, she worried that the Omegas would be even harder to control.
The Omegas were getting easier to distinguish, just by the way they stood. One had its arms folded across its broad chest, glowering at the delay. The other was helping Carlton input the final wake-up commands, shoulders rounded and pointing at various readouts as they worked.
The team was back in their encounter suits, and Jantine had to admit she felt a bit more secure dressed for action. Artemus and Katra stood with weapons at the ready, watching the sky for attackers but still keeping an eye on the imperious Omega.
I’m not sure which bothers me more: a threat from above or the one standing in front of us.
Knowing she could do nothing about either, Jantine turned her attention to the newest member of her team. Even with her faceplate up, the sight of the woman wearing the white hardsuit reminded her of all the humans she’d had to kill to get to this moment.
And also of the one she hadn’t killed quite yet, hopefully the last casualty of their arrival in the home system.
"Mira, can I talk to Captain Martin?"
The Earther nodded, and Jantine detected a hint of sadness in the gesture.
"I think he’d like that, actually. He has a lot of respect for you, for what you were able to do aboard the Valiant. As soon as Carlton and JonB are finished, I’ll take you up. By the way, were you ever going to tell me I was saying it wrong?"
Jantine smiled at the light rebuke. Mira was beginning to understand mod humor, though it was doubtful she’d ever grasp the full reasons behind JonB’s obstinance and the others’ response to it.
"I was certain you’d figure it out, eventually. Which one talked?"
"Carlton. I asked him what S-A-198 meant, and then it all fell into place. Are you really going to marry him? You have to know you have a choice in the matter."
Jantine shook her head. While a distraction from the Alpha’s imminent awakening was welcome, this particular topic was not among her favorites.
"Whether I do or not, that’s a matter for another time. And you mistake my meaning. I don’t want to see your captain, I want to talk to him."
Jantine raised her right hand, tapping the side of her helmet with a finger. Mira’s eyes widened, and Jantine felt the Earther’s soft touch in her mind.
"You’re getting better at that."
"Thanks. It’s not easy, believe me. There’s nothing in the Gamma playbook that covers this, and I’m not sure I can do what you want. It . . . it doesn’t work that way.
Jantine lowered her hand and turned away. Carlton pulled on a handle, gave it a half-turn, then pushed it back almost all the way. The Beta’s expression was equal parts excitement and concern, and when he looked back at Jantine for approval, the other Omega stepped forward to block his view.
"On board your ship I discovered that our main communication methods are vulnerable to interference. If we can harness your abilities tactically, it would give us an unparalleled advantage. Empathic Gammas are not combat trained, and you are. And we’re not going to have a better chance to practice than now."
Jantine took a step to the side and nodded at Carlton, who pushed the handle home. The sleeper unit started shaking, and after a few seconds she could feel the vibration in her bones.
"Mira? Anything?"
"I’m sorry, Jantine. The words are there, but I can’t relay his thoughts."
"It’s not a problem. We’ll revisit this later. For now, we’ll just use your radio, and I’ll teach you how to use the scattercomms."
The bay became noticeably hotter, and despite herself Jantine couldn’t take her attention away from the sleeper unit. What she was about to see was the most important event in the colonies, and she had only one chance to do this right.
A ring of lights strobed around the face of the unit, casting alternating shadows on the child within. Suspension fluid drained away from her face, and her pale skin almost glowed when the lights stopped moving. Then the dura-glass cover unlocked, sliding back with a series of warning chimes and another set of flashing lights.
A cloud of scented steam escaped the chamber, and Jantine’s breath caught in her throat. She had to see, had to know, and when Mira turned on her radio Jantine nearly jumped out of her skin.
"Captain? Can you hear me? Commander Jantine wants to speak with you."
"I can hear you, Harlan. Is she listening now?"
"Yes, sir. Jantine?"
There was an odd buzzing sound accompanying each of Captain Martin’s words, as if the tension she was feeling was interfering with the transmission. It felt wrong to be talking right now, but the feathery comfort of Mira’s mind that accompanied her words set her at ease.
"Commander?"
"Yes, I can hear you.
Both of you. Captain, I wanted to thank you for your sacrifice. You will be remembered well for this."
Carlton stepped up onto the sleeper unit, assisted by the less aggressive of the Omegas. Jantine moved forward herself, ducking under the orange arm that appeared in her way and very aware of the sound of five pulsers whining to life.
When she arrived at the base of the unit, "Carlton’s" Omega offered her a broad hand while at the same time looking back over her shoulder.
Jantine floated off the floor up to Carlton’s side. The Beta was removing sensor pads from the Alpha’s skin and staring at her face. Up close, she looked even more delicate, not at all like the shadowy figures who’d dictated the course of her life over viewscreens since her earliest memories.
S-A-198’s hairless head was oval in shape, and absolutely symmetrical. From her wide forehead to her tiny, pointed chin, she was a miniature vision of perfection. Even her almost translucent skin was flawless.
The sound of Captain Martin’s voice over the radio made her scowl momentarily. How dare he distract her from so much beauty?
"Thank, you, Jantine, is it? But you have to know I’m not doing it for you. Despite what’s happened, Harlan is one of my people, and she’s the best chance we’ve got of getting your Alpha away from here and into the hands of those who can help."
Mira gasped: "Her mind, oh my God her mind!"
The Alpha’s eyes snapped open, and her liquid brown eyes scanned both Jantine’s face and Carlton’s before fixating on the former.
Jantine was scared and alive and worried and delighted. Despite all her earlier concerns, she smiled, and her emotions doubled in intensity when the Alpha responded. The child’s lips were plumping up, and her skin seemed to be thickening over her cheekbones.
The words were out of Jantine’s mouth almost before she thought of what to say.
"I am JTN-B34256-O, commander of Expedition Force SS7. This is CRN-B34310-T. How do you want to be called, S-A-198?"
The sleeper unit gave one last chime, then fell silent. A broad pair of orange hands inserted themselves between Carlton and Jantine, who were still entranced by the Alpha’s delicate face. The Omega gently pressed them aside, and S-A-198’s tiny hands stretched feebly toward those of the hulking giant’s. The Omega lifted her from the suspension chamber and then stepped back with the child gently cradled in its arms.
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