by John Walker
He would tell Quinda it was simply challenging if he asked. The man was too much of an idiot to know any better.
Chapter 6
Cassie balled her fist and jabbed backward, into the face of her opponent, thumb leading the way. The first blow reflected off his cheek and he grunted but before he could move, she adjusted and hammered at him again. This time, she felt the give of an eye, the softness surrendering to her bony digit.
He cried out and his grip loosened. She yanked free of him and threw a back kick, connecting with his knee. It cracked from her attack, dropping him to the ground. She turned to face him, watching him nurse his eye while struggling to get back to his feet. He’d tried to choke her out, tried to break her neck.
Any sense of mercy or sympathy simply didn’t exist.
“So I was weak, huh?” Cassie clenched her fists, a sense of rage washing over her. “Just give up? You son of a bitch!” She punched him with a right hook, hammering his cheek, with all the momentum she could muster. The blow dropped him and he didn’t move. She still gave him a solid kick to the stomach, just to be sure. “Go to hell.”
She rested on her palms on her knees, catching her breath for a moment while staring at the man. He had to be prepared for a trainee to hurt him, to do serious damage. Especially when he threw out the sort of demeaning nonsense he whispered in her ear. Considering the do whatever it takes mentality of the AIA, she doubted anyone would say anything.
Cassie composed herself before moving again, heading down the tunnel. Providing there were no other attackers, she would finish the course momentarily. Her mind drifted back to the thoughts that nearly cost her the course. The Gnosis and the name Vincent returned. Now that she wasn’t in immediate danger, she wanted to understand them.
They can wait until I’ve finished … until they tell me I’m good.
But they wouldn’t let up and even as she exited the tunnel, she felt a sense of vertigo hit her. Interface. The word made her dizzy. Why did that in particular bother her? She couldn’t move, couldn’t take another step. The finish line loomed ahead. Two hundred paces, maybe three hundred at the most but she remained fixed in place, struggling with her mind.
Did they give me a drug somehow? Was the tunnel full of gas? What the hell is this?
A scream behind her made her react, instinct kicking in. She dodged to the side as her earlier attacker threw himself at her, landing in a crouch nearby. His bloodshot eye was only half open and he clearly favored the knee she kicked. He still could be deadly though with greater upper body strength and a look that suggested he wanted to tear her apart.
“You already lost,” Cassie said. “What’re you doing?”
He grunted and lashed out, throwing a punch at her head, starting a wild melee.
Cassie blocked one strike, took another to the stomach and another to the cheek. Falling back, she fired off several blows of her own, two punches and a kick. He blocked some, took others and the fight continued, each combatant throwing everything they had into the brawl.
He tried to grapple her but she danced away, her mobility dramatically better than his. Drool coated his chin and he looked more like a wild animal than a human being. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him, and she thought about simply wearing him down, letting him do the work for her.
But some part of her wanted to beat the shit out of him, teach him a lesson for what he did in the tunnel. Ego fought against practicality. The former won. She jabbed him in the face, dodged a counter attack. Another jab caught his nose, blood splattering his lips and chin. He kicked at her and she countered, stomping his knee with a kick of her own.
He cried out and fell to the ground, flailing to get a hold of her leg. Cassie dropped down low and caught his wrist, rolling forward on her shoulder. The motion caused his arm to circle and it snapped loudly, bringing a horrifying scream out of him. As she came back up into a crouch, she turned, noting he was writhing about, his face contorted in agony.
It didn’t stop him and he tried for her again. This time, Cassie pinned his good arm to the ground under a knee as she pummeled his face with her fists, striking him until her knuckles ached and her wrists were on fire. He’d stopped moving at some point, a limp pile of unconscious meat.
Climbing to her feet, Cassie felt every bruise and painful blow he’d visited on her. She shrugged them off and started back toward the finish line. If they wanted to see how far she’d go, if they needed to know whether she had it in her to do whatever it took for a mission, then they knew her limits.
The lesson, for what it was worth, seemed pointless to her. There were other ways that didn’t involve a man being beaten half to death, better methods to test a person’s loyalty. But for whatever reason, they willingly sacrificed an individual to see what would happen. He’d be in the hospital for weeks, if not months and may never walk right again.
I wonder who he was really.
Interface came back to plague her. As she approached the finish line, the world beyond it seemed to glow white. She approached an endless expanse of nothingness, the emptiness of forever. This must be part of the test. Interface … a computer problem. A theoretical problem, some kind of augmented reality … I have to puzzle it out.
But she didn’t have a tablet, no weapons, no equipment at all to analyze what she saw. Staring into it, she slowed down and went through the thoughts she’d had in the tunnel, the small nuggets of information that threatened her chances for finishing the course. They had to be the pieces to solve the final riddle.
Vincent … Gnosis … Interface … Orb … Desmond … Tol’An …
Cassie tried to put them together but they didn’t make any sense. Not without giving in to … to what? A hidden reserve of information? An implant? Something else? It was right there waiting to be remembered, a word on the tip of the tongue, a frustrating sense of reality desperately clawing to come out.
Think! Cassie slapped her forehead and closed her eyes. Come on, girl! Think! This is not beyond you. Figure. It. Out.
***
“I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” Doctor Holland said to Gabriel. “He’s catatonic but there’s brain activity. When did this happen anyway?”
Gabriel shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I went in to check on him because I was shocked he hadn’t finished his task and … well … I found him like this. Do you think it has something to do with his injury? Some sort of reaction to it? Or maybe he’s suffering from an infection?”
“No, there’s no infection.” Holland stared at his tablet for several moments. “I honestly haven’t seen anything like this before. I can’t say what’s wrong with him. I don’t even know what to try yet. We’re going to have to run some blood work and tests. Hopefully, we’ll discover exactly what put him in this state … then we can go about reversing it.”
“Do whatever you have to, Doc.” Gabriel’s communicator buzzed and he stepped away to answer it. “Captain Gabriel here.”
“Darren, it’s Desmond. We’ve got a problem. Can you come to the bridge for a quick briefing?”
It had to be bad if he was being summoned up there. He’d only been up there three times and one of them was on a tour of the ship prior to taking the assignment. “I’ll be right there. Do you want me to bring some security?”
“I’ve got two up here I trust,” Desmond said. “I don’t think we’ll need more yet, but you can decide when you hear what I’ve got to say. Better hurry.”
“I’m on my way.” Gabriel turned to Holland. “Thank you for your help, Doctor. I appreciate it.”
“He’s in good hands, Captain. Don’t worry.”
But Gabriel knew he would. As he went down the hall to the elevator, he thought back to the various men under his command who had suffered different injuries and death. He took them all personal, every single time. He made it a point of honor to deliver notices to the families of those men who lost their lives under his command as well.
The responsibility was one he took v
ery seriously.
Nevertheless, whatever happened to Heat didn’t seem to be combat related. Perhaps he had some kind of stroke or suffered from an old injury. Holland would figure it out, but would it be too late to do anything about it? Heat was one of the toughest men he’d ever met but the guy had been through a lot in the past few weeks.
After being involved in every away mission the Gnosis conducted, he’d been injured at least three times. He’d lost friends, killed more men than some people did during an entire tour and visited alien ruins and planets in several different systems. He could’ve caught anything during those operations.
It was a miracle he hadn’t suffered something else sooner.
Gabriel stepped onto the bridge and Desmond immediately took him aside to the captain’s antechamber. There, they closed the door.
“Salina found a suspicious communication sent just before we went into hyperspace,” Desmond explained. “She’s been working to decode it but our database shows that they sent it to a section of space where there’s been known Tol’An activity. Chances are very good we have a traitor on board.”
“Fantastic.” Gabriel slapped the wall. “How the hell did they pass our vetting? We were so thorough!”
“Were we?” Desmond asked. “Salina said that Heat didn’t finish his sweep of the people on the shuttles.”
“No, he got sick.” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “Or he was attacked.” He pulled out his tablet and brought up the camera feed. The two men watched as Heat merely went stiff and collapsed in his chair. “Okay, so if someone did do something, it was with gas. And they might’ve attacked him to keep their secret.”
“Very true,” Desmond agreed. “Either way, I need you to pull together some men who you can trust and find our traitor as soon as possible. Before we leave hyperspace.”
“Because he can’t escape right now, is that it?”
Desmond nodded. “Exactly and the last thing we need is this guy getting away to cause more trouble elsewhere. Hell, I want him to be an example to others that betraying our two cultures will not be tolerated. However, we also have to think that if they work for the Tol’An, they might be willing to sabotage us while we’re in hyperspace … maybe even destroy the ship.”
“That would be insanity,” Gabriel said. “Not only would they die, but they’d lose access to two Orbs. What would be the point?”
“Take two out of the equation,” Desmond replied, “there are four left. They have two already, they might know where the others are and they would destroy our ship and take away one of humanity’s only advantages against them. Blowing us up has a pretty win-win outcome for the terrorists.”
“I don’t like how your mind works,” Gabriel frowned. “But I get it and it makes sense. We’ll get on it right now, but the crew isn’t going to like it. I’ll have to take some people into the lab they’re running their experiments in. The bastard might even be down there, waiting to hurt someone.”
“They’ve had some luck with Cassie, but Gil went under too.” Desmond shrugged. “I’m not sure what’s happening right now but Vincent promised me a report soon. Either way, do what you have to do and keep me informed. If you need help, I’ll step in. Otherwise, stamp this asshole out fast.”
“You’ve got it, sir.” Gabriel nodded and left the bridge, fuming at the idea of someone actively working against them on board. After all their precautions and work, they still managed to sneak someone in their midst. When the criminal was found, he knew it would be hard not to let his men give them a severe beating.
Gabriel doubted he would stop them either.
***
Vincent couldn’t stop checking the time on his tablet. Every minute felt like an eternity while Gil and Cassie were effectively unconscious. Especially when the doctors didn’t know what was going on. Their efforts failed to deliver any results. Not only were the patients in danger but the mission suffered as well.
I have to be honest with myself. I don’t care about the operation right now. My sole concern is Cassandra and whether or not she’s okay. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else but that was the truth. It took every ounce of will not to be by her side, to stand stoic at the door and act as an observer.
Vincent knew there were cards to play. He could demand information from Harper, even using the captain’s name if necessary. Distracting them would merely delay their progress, what little of it they made. So he waited, taking a deep breath while watching reports come in from different parts of the ship.
Darren Gabriel entered the room suddenly, startling Vincent. “Commander, I need a word with you in the hall.”
Vincent sighed and joined him. “What is it, Darren?”
Gabriel related to him the story about the traitor and let him know they needed to check everyone in the lab area. He also mentioned Heat being downed and in the hospital which especially struck Vincent as odd. That man might’ve been the toughest guy he’d ever met. Who could’ve snuck up on him, let alone taken him down?
“I’ll do what I can from here,” Vincent said. “Cassie and Gil are both under right now and all the researchers are pretty intent on figuring out what happened. I doubt they’re involved but if so, they’re about the most subtle people I’ve ever seen in my entire life. And don’t forget that Beaumont Dulain is in there as well.”
“Nevertheless, the captain wants them stamped out quickly so no one gets a pass.”
“I get it.” Vincent nodded. He paused. “Wait, what do you mean by that?”
“I’m vetting everyone.” Gabriel looked him in the eyes, making it quite clear he meant everyone.
“You’re questioning my loyalty right now?”
Gabriel shook his head. “No, I’m being thorough in my duty. That doesn’t mean I’m blaming anyone or placing guilt. It does mean that when I have to check the entire crew, I start with the first officer. That way, you can help me do this work and I can testify without a doubt in my mind that you were just as diligent as I was.”
The whole thing was insulting but Vincent couldn’t fault him or the logic. “Okay, so what do I have to do?”
“Put your hand on the scanner.” Gabriel revealed his tablet and held it out. Vincent placed his palm on the screen. “Are you in any way trying to sabotage the Gnosis?”
“No.” Vincent replied.
“Are you committing treason to this ship and the commanding officers?”
“No.”
“Do you have any intention of delaying this mission or causing it to fail?”
“No.”
“You check out.” Gabriel stepped back. “Thank you and I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Vincent looked back in the lab. “You’re not going to be able to ask some of them … and I assume you think that Cassie and Gil might be traitors too?”
“I don’t think any specific person is,” Gabriel replied. “I just know someone is but who, I’m leaving up to the investigation. Anyway, I’m not sure how to scan a Pahxin to find out if they’re lying so that will be a challenge to overcome. Can you take care of the humans in here? There are two guards standing by in case someone makes a break for it.”
“Yes, I’m on it.” Vincent couldn’t wait to put the question to Dulain. He grabbed Gabriel’s arm before he could walk away. “Be careful when you leave this area. If you end up finding this person, they won’t likely go down without a fight.”
Gabriel grinned and it did not look pleasant. “Oh, commander … I’m counting on it.”
“That’s not at all chilling,” Vincent replied. “Good luck. I’ll let you know the results of my scans as soon as they’re done.”
“Keep everyone down here.” Gabriel walked to the elevator. “We’ll hook up again in half an hour.”
Looking forward to it, Vincent thought, turning back to the room. Now to bring their ire to bear on me as I interrupt their work. This will be swell. Can’t wait to hear Harper complain. Or Dulain.
***
Heat’s ears rang as un
suppressed shots discharged in the confined space of the facility. Shouts tried to compete, the enemy attempting to communicate with one another, but they couldn’t possibly make out their own gibberish. The marines managed to get down the stairs and into a pair of storage rooms where they dug in and fired through the door.
The enemy took position in an open area not even twenty feet away. They maintained reasonable cover, leaning their weapons around to lay down a constant barrage of suppressive fire. While they might not have been able to hit any of Heat’s men, they certainly weren’t going to end the conflict in such a manner.
They’re buying time. Heat figured they must’ve been hoping for reinforcements to come and rescue them. Haste was in order and his men needed to clear out the enemy position so they could get to their objective and leave. None of the marines wore any insignias or specific uniforms, leaving it a mystery who might be attacking them.
Which was the idea from command’s perspective.
“Give them some grenades,” Heat said. “Time them out. Toss two, count three then two more. Go.”
The marines cooked some explosives and tossed them down the hall, causing a whole new kind of panic and disarray. Gunfire stopped as people scrambled around just moments before the first set of explosives. A man began hollering, crying out in pure agony. Someone rushed to his aid just as the next set of grenades went into the room.
When they exploded this time, the screaming went silent and a meaty sound slapped the wall.
“We’ve got movement out here,” Evans said. “Two soldiers must’ve been on patrol. They’re coming back toward the compound at the ready.”
“Take them out,” Heat said. “Don’t let them get to the doors.”
“On it.” Evans paused for a moment. “They’re down.”