Transmuted (Dark Landing Series Book 1)

by Robin Praytor

  Curtis refused to meet his gaze. The others gave Drew accusing looks. He reddened, remembering why Curtis always seemed to annoy him so much. “Yeah, okay. We’ll move it to the screamer cell while the engineers examine it. It’ll be a tight fit though.”

  Commander William stepped to one side to answer his com. After a minute, he rejoined the group. “My crew completed scans of the debris from all three Diak ships,” he announced. “They found no traces of biological matter.”

  Chapter 30: Sar Mode

  Infiltrating their targets proved more difficult than Sar Mode first calculated. The Diak transmitters had been detected and many disabled. Fortunately, the desire to reproduce would always win out, and the implantation would continue. Sufficient devices disbursed across the populations of the five planets still transmitted. They were more than enough to maintain a strong link to the Mass. However, the invasion must occur before exponential increases in the spread of devices affecting mutation resulted in turnings, and rendered the populaces of no value. Though it varied by race, the time between infection and turning had accelerated over the last century. It was disconcerting, but beyond Diak control.

  Happily, there were billions on the planets still untouched—biological data vessels awaiting download. And they required only a portion of those. The balance could be isolated, bred, and reserved to meet future demands. Colonists selected for these worlds were fortunate. They would form their own Mass and might survive for centuries before the need to rejoin the Spread. Sar Mode envied the settled lives they would lead. As the appointed principal she would never be so privileged.

  That the targets had detected the Diak presented little problem. Even prepared, the targets’ military defenses had proven insignificant. A few more rotations and the armada would be refreshed and assembled into strike divisions. They grew eager to explore this “Known Universe,” as the aligned races called it.

  Sar Mode allowed herself a small diversion. If she were a Diak colonist, which would she choose among the five new races? Those called Bins were unappealing, small, ugly creatures. Earthlings were a physically strong, adventurous race. Their sense of wonder and discovery complemented her own. But they were weak minded and easily manipulated. Not the Earthlings. The Fahdeens were angry and belligerent. Their development intrigued her, but no, not the Fahdeens. Her choice lay between the Bahdane and the Camdu.

  Most perceptive of the group, the Bahdane were even-tempered. And they held enticing secrets. Sar Mode wished to explore those secrets. But the failure of the Diak to decipher the Bahdane language must first be overcome. The Camdu . . . ah, the Camdu! Such beautiful creatures—an intelligent, forthright race not easily swayed. They would nod politely and listen, but keep their own council. Yes . . . definitely the Camdu—such an astounding shade of blue.

  Chapter 31: Interlude

  In the two weeks following the encounter at the station, the only new report of an attack came from a mostly evacuated Camdu outpost.

  Dark Landing and the two Bin TSF ships held a moving, joint memorial over a live feed for the souls lost: eleven evacuees in the station corridor when it was hit, and eight Bindian crew members. Drew spoke for the evacuees, many of whom they had yet to identify. Letty spoke eloquently to the loss of the Bindians, who’d paid the ultimate price in coming to the aid of the station. And to the sadness of the entire Taleen Security Force in losing members who demonstrated such courage and selflessness. The Bindians felt particularly honored in that her presence at the service represented the only time any of their race had knowingly looked upon the head of the Taleen empire. After the memorial, the Bin ships limped back to their home world, where they would hold their traditional funeral rites. They towed their dead in a parade of brightly colored coffers.

  With little forethought, the memorial feed was broadcast to the public. As a result, ready or not, Letty became a celebrity. She now required around-the-clock security and a host of assistants on Earth to handle the flood of inquiries that, having started, would never let up.

  ~ ~ ∞ ~ ~

  The joint team of engineers was still studying the object, cautiously agreeing only that it didn’t appear to present a threat, but without reaching a consensus about its function. In the meantime, it sat in the screamer cell, its surface periodically rippling without definable pattern or purpose. Drew was still annoyed at Curtis for it being on board, but overseeing station repairs offered a distraction.

  They had a lot of work ahead of them. Drew focused on repairing the docks first, since four TSF ships had arrived in the middle of the night, along with two heavily armed Earth Space Force battleships—half of the planet’s fleet. They still hadn’t fully evacuated the station, but they’d made headway. Double-bunked, its public areas and cargo holds crammed full, the Temperance debarked with as many souls as it could carry.

  Drew struck out for dockside to meet ESF Rear Admiral, Jensen Sullivan, and the TSF Fleet Commander. He reflected that the station was perhaps the best supplied and, as of that moment, the safest location in Alliance territory. His thoughts moved to the briefing scheduled that afternoon with the newcomers and ETOC’s Secretary Rostenkowski, MCTT Lt. Commander William William, and Drew and Letty. He looked forward to an entertaining alphabet soup of super egos.

  As he entered dock sublevel one, where the ESF and TSF command ships were berthed side by side, he spotted Letty chatting with, judging by the uniform, Earth Space Force Rear Admiral Sullivan. Before he could join them, the senior dock foreman, Benny Capone, approached him.

  Benny did not look happy. “Hey, Chief. I need to talk to you.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Just who the hell’s in charge of these docks anyway?” Benny assumed a confrontational pose, feet apart, hands on hips.

  Drew saw where the conversation was heading. He needed to make his expectations clear. “You are, but things have gotten complicated and nothing’s changing in the foreseeable future. Dig deep, Benny. I know you’ll handle things with patience and diplomacy. I’m counting on you to set an example for the men. Is there something specific I can help you with?”

  Benny relaxed his posture. “Well, for one, are any of these military ships supposed to pay docking fees—cuz they don’t seem to think so. And every person debarked so far is carrying a weapon . . . ”

  While Benny listed his complaints, Drew watched a man in a TSF uniform exit his ship and head toward Letty. Certainly the Fleet Commander . . . fuck, it was Travis Barnes! When she spotted him, she broke from her conversation with Admiral Sullivan and ran the distance into the commander’s arms. He embraced her with a kiss on the lips, then picked her up and spun her in a circle. Their reunion continued with laughter and a series of shorter kisses and hugs.

  Chilled to his center, Drew dragged his gaze away from the scene and refocused his attention on Benny. “Put your issues in writing for me. I want everything on the record. In the meantime, I’ll send a list of exceptions to the weapons restriction. I may have to consult with CoachStop for the rest. Unless it’s something vital to the station’s welfare, stand down while I sort it out. If you pick your battles wisely, I’ll back you.”

  He left Benny stewing but resigned and returned to HQ without Letty knowing he’d been there.

  ~ ~ ∞ ~ ~

  Soon after arrival, Earth Space Force sent a representative to question Mattie. Muck had already taken its turn at her and the hooker monks with the same results as Drew and the ETOC—not much. Drew wished fervently that things were different and Mattie was still working by his side. He missed her organizational skills, dry humor, and the warmth of her friendship. Her assistant, Kyle, had stepped up to handle the day-to-day administrative tasks, but he was too timid and just not Mattie quality. On the other hand, he wasn’t a traitor.

  Drew entered the bazaar, less cluttered with refugees than before. He spotted Toby perched on the counter of an abandoned merchant stall, and headed his way. Since Letty’s unveiling, Toby seemed to always know her hiding sp
ots. Drew had spoken to her about taking the boy to Earth, but they both avoided broaching the subject with him. He needed safety, schooling, and mostly to get out of Drew’s hair.

  Toby sat next to another boy close to his age. Drew thought of them as co-conspirators instead of children and wondered what they were plotting. “Have you seen Letty?” he asked.

  Toby nodded. He held a voice-controlled model of a Camdu mountain lizard. It resembled an Earth-conceived dragon, but with a long muzzle covered in sharp spikes and the ability to turn various bright colors to blend with Camdu mountain flora.

  “Where is she?”

  “She told me not to tell anyone.”

  “Seriously, Toby?” Drew asked; his tone more a threat than a question.

  Toby shrugged his lack of concern. “She and Doc are eating lunch in Doc’s office.”

  “Thanks. Did she buy you that?”

  Toby shook his head no.

  “Did you steal it?”

  “No, I bought it myself.”

  “Where’d you get the script?”

  “Curtis’s been teaching me poker. He staked me in a game with some med-lab orderlies.” His self-satisfied look said it all.

  The orderly game was the softest game on the station. But an outsider could only bust it once. They’d never get a second invitation. The kid didn’t realize it, but Walker was setting him up. Curtis was smart. The next game he staked Toby in wouldn’t be so easy to beat. The kid’s newly found confidence would shatter, and he’d be in Curtis’s debt. Drew approved.

  He veered off toward med-lab. As he maneuvered through the bazaar, he nodded to the TSF members spread out among the remaining refugees, collecting personal information and inquiring about desired final destinations. To a man and woman, Taleen Security Staff were professional and convivial, easily interacting with adults and children alike. Letty had said they could handle every possible situation. Drew wondered at their fighting skills.

  A TSF member was talking to a large man who stood with his back to Drew. Drew would recognize that back anywhere. He approached the two men, interrupting their conversation. “Nikko, what the hell are you doing here?!”

  Nikko looked down at him. “Queet Demperance. Vorking vor Valker.”

  “You’re working for Curtis?”

  “Da.”

  “Doing what? Wait . . . never mind. I’d rather hear Curtis’s version.” He continued to med-lab mumbling to himself. Curtis seemed to call the shots more and more lately. His brief love affair with the guy was souring.

  Drew stuck his head in Doc’s office. “Hey, Doc. Letty, when you’re done here, can you meet me in HQ?”

  “We just finished. I can walk back with you.”

  “Great.”

  Doc was clearing food containers off her desk. “I’ll see you two later,” she said.

  With two burly TSF staff trailing them, Drew took Letty on a route that avoided the bazaar.

  “Why do you need those guys here?” he asked. “The station’s full of military and security personnel.”

  “Our new CEO, Carl Evans, issued the order. I didn’t want to make waves so soon. Besides, I guess I need to get used to it.”

  “I guess. I saw Nikko on my way to med-lab. Did you know he was here?”

  “Yeah, he’s ‘vorking vor Valker.’” She smiled. “Didn’t you know?”

  “Evidently, when it comes to Curtis, I know nothing. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Your people are doing a great job.”

  “Thanks. They’re in their element. This is what they’re trained for.”

  “As well as being an ace fighting force?”

  She sighed. “Yes, as well as a fighting force.”

  “I’ve been kicking around an idea. I might want to apply for a job with the TSF,” Drew announced. He needed a change—which was code for needing time to square his mythical self-image with reality.

  Thoughts of joining the TSF came to him days earlier, and bore no connection to seeing Letty in Barnes’s arms—though a mental image of them together played on an interminable loop. If joining the TSF provided a tentative link with Letty, well . . . so much the better, but it was not his goal to compete with the other man.

  Letty stopped mid-stride. The two following them caught up and then backed off to give them privacy. “A job? What do you mean ‘a job’?”

  “Call it a change-of-career decision.” They recommenced walking. “I’m not as good at this as I thought.” He spread his arms to embrace his surroundings.

  “I don’t agree,” Letty said. “But, what type of job are you looking for? The requirements for the TSF would overlap those for a chief of security position. You might be trading one job for another, doing essentially the same thing but with less responsibility and pay.”

  “Honestly, I don’t have an ultimate goal. I’ll start on a bottom rung if necessary.”

  “What you’re looking for is a place to hide while you figure out what you really want to do. Am I right?”

  Drew thought about it. “Maybe.” He’d misinterpreted his success at the academy and rapid advancement with CoachStop as proof of an aptitude for leadership, the ability to leap tall barriers and to look death in the eye and vanquish it. Bullshit! When he finally woke up and factored in the gen that most academy cadets were misfits and reckless daredevils, he’d stood out because he was conventional and steady. The only thing tested and proven at the academy was his ego, and he’d scored bigtime.

  “I think you’re making a mistake and underestimating your value,” Letty said. “Besides . . . ” She paused.

  “What?”

  “Well . . . the TSF spends much of its time in space, traveling, living, working, and in considerably closer quarters than Dark Landing. I noticed during our EVA, and even on the shuttle down to Bin, that you have a . . . a disinclination . . . to appreciate space.”

  Drew stiffened. “Not true. I’m just smart enough to understand the potential dangers. That’s an asset.”

  Letty dropped it, evidently choosing not to argue with him. “Okay. No offense meant.”

  In Drew’s office, they continued to discuss his decision until it came time to adjourn their meeting for the next one.

  ~ ~ ∞ ~ ~

  Letty contemplated Drew’s surprising announcement as the others arrived at the HQ conference room. People milled around, chatting, served themselves drinks, and found seats.

  All that’d happened obviously shook Drew’s self-confidence. Letty hadn’t confessed as much, but she harbored her own self-doubts. She owned the largest enterprise in the K.U., but had few qualifications to run it. Being an expert in company trivia didn’t translate into being Chairman of the Board. Her dad had made the job look effortless while Letty dabbled in only what interested her, and that under an alias. Though she considered Drew’s self-doubts groundless, they’d both arrived at personal crossroads on the same schedule.

  As the only Earth political representative, Anne Rostenkowski called the meeting to order. “If everyone will please take a seat . . . ”

  Letty continued to contemplate her shortcomings while Anne summarized what they knew about the Diaks.

  “So . . . wrapping up, tech contamination is easy to remedy once discovered, and we’re confident we can locate and isolate humans infected with Diak nanoids, though we’re still determining the parameters of such isolation. The ETOC’s of the opinion that Diak strength is in their technology, not in their military ability. All we’ve seen is hit-and-run tactics comparable to guerilla warfare, and light-armored ships with the facility to change their shape but with fire power no more lethal than our own. And they’ve only targeting undefended outposts, primarily in the Zeta Quadrant, never home worlds.” Rostenkowski sat and looked to ESF Rear Admiral Sullivan.

  Sullivan cleared his throat, “With all due respect, Madam Secretary, you’re assuming a dangerous position. The ESF feels strongly that the Diak are only testing our military strength with their forays. And our, Earth
’s and the Alliance’s, response has been pitiful. It’s as clear to the Diak as to our own leaders that, individually or combined, the Alliance worlds don’t have the means to fight an enemy of equal force, let alone a superior one. And, under scrutiny, the Diak appear to be the far superior force. They simply haven’t found it necessary to reveal their full military capacity. And, remember, their initial strategy pitted Alliance members against one another by imitating our ship designs . . . showing superior strength wouldn’t have served their purpose.”

  Muck Commander William William nodded. “The MCTT concurs,” he said.

  Letty wondered under what authority the MCTT concurred. As far as she was aware, the Coalition hadn’t reassembled. But perhaps unsanctioned command of three heavily armed ships carried its own authority.

  Travis Barnes stared at her. She’d told Drew the truth. She’d been friends with Travis since childhood. He was one of the trusted few who’d known her true identity. They’d had a brief fling while she was in college, and would always be an important part of each other’s lives. Travis appeared puzzled when she only smiled back at him. She realized he expected something more from her. As his superior, he was looking to her for approval to speak. She gave a weak nod.

  Though a civilian employee in command of only a small corporate fleet, and lower in status than even Drew Cutter, Travis spoke with self-assured authority. “Along with many of you here, I was only recently made aware that Taleen research teams have been studying Diak nanotech for over a year. Before coming to Dark Landing, I sat down with the team leaders to brainstorm possible military approaches—tactics and weaponry, traditional or non-traditional—in controlling or eliminating the nanoid contaminants. They confirmed there was nothing we could do beyond what civilian authorities were already employing. However, there was a consensus on one aspect.” Commander Barnes paused.

  Letty wondered why she or Anne Rostenkowski hadn’t received summaries of that meeting; or, perhaps Anne had. Letty looked at Anne. She seemed just as interested in what Barnes was about to say as the others.