by C. R. Daems
"It's my turn," another voice rose in anger. My numb mind wished Vega would let the next man continue. I would welcome death to stop the never-ending cycle of pain. I couldn't escape. I was on a cruiser in space. A space submarine, Kris called them. As the men argued, my thoughts flew back to the time when Kris and I sat helplessly in a medical unit, waiting for the Raiders to storm the Tityus—and rape us—and she began laughing. I could still hear her.
"If you are contagious, you could destroy their whole organization."
* * *
I woke on the mattress they had provided for the men's comfort—they weren't worried about me. While I waited for the next man—I assumed I had just returned from Regen—I examined myself and took stock of my situation for the first time in days. Red, the mere thought of him had tears streaking down my cheeks, had last fed off me the night before we were gassed in the elevator and it must have been close to a day before they delivered me to the cruiser. That meant I might have been contagious when I arrived, but for sure within twelve to twenty-four hours. And I had been here days, since I thought I had been to Regen several times. I giggled with pure enjoyment for the first time. I might not destroyed their entire organization but the Shark was my revenge.
My legs were being spread apart but the fever was raging and it felt like I watched it happening to someone else. As I watched, four horsemen appeared in a mist. They were laughing. The man covered in a black robe, with a skull for a face, sat on an ashen horse. He floated closer and threw his scythe to me. I giggled—I was Death. I grinned up at the face of the man who was consumed with rutting me and placed my tied hands over his head. He smiled as I twisted my arms which tightened the rope around his neck. It seemed to make him more excited and he thrust harder. Slowly his face turned red, then blue, and he collapsed on me. I giggled—I was Death. I managed to push him off me, rose, and staggered over to his clothes. Removing his knife from its sheath, I cut the ropes binding my wrists. I dropped the knife and picked up his multifunctional weapon and used the wall of the container to steady me as I made my way to the door. It was locked from the outside. Exhausted, I slid down the wall and waited for the next man. Sometime later a man entered with half his clothes tucked under his arm. He turned in my direction in time to see a laser beam pierce his eye. I staggered out of the container and locked it. The horsemen floated behind me. As I watched, the man on the white horse floated toward me and threw me his bow. I giggled—I was Pestilence. I wiped sweat and blood on the container's locking mechanism. I left the cargo hold wiping sweat and blood on everything I passed. I could hear the horsemen laughing. I joined in—I was Pestilence.
Several minutes later I saw a dead body lying in the hallway. When I attempted to step over him, my foot snagged on his arm and I went sprawling onto another body. He too was dead. I righted myself and continued stumbling down the hallway until I found a door. I opened it and looked inside. A man sat staring at nothing. Brown blisters on his face and arms were torn open and leaking blood. He looked to be in the final stage of the Coaca Virus. I shot him and giggled—I was Death. The room was filled with Navy uniforms. Feeling cold, I grabbed an officer's dress white jacket, which was several sizes too big, and left to continue walking down the hallway. I had no destination in mind but felt compelled to continue. I stopped at every door and entered. Bodies lay everywhere: some had been shot, some had died of the virus, and others were too sick to defend themselves. I shot them—I was Death.
As I approached an intersection, I heard voicing coming from a side corridor. They were laughing and sounded drunk.
"I h-hope tha girlly isstill live. She'ss not mush fun lying thar with t-t-those dead eyess, but she'ss aall wee got."
"We'll t-throw a ruug over her f-face," another man said, laughing hysterically. "I'm soo d-drunk I w-won't care."
I leaned against the wall for support and smiled as the man on the red horse floated toward me and handed me his sword. I giggled—I was War. I stepped into the intersection and surveyed the enemy. There were four men holding bottles and laughing. I shot the lead man who had turned toward his companions. His head blossomed red as multiple shards tore through hair, skin, and bone. He was thrown into two of his companions, causing one to fall. The fourth man stood frozen, staring at me as a tight beam of shards ripped his face to shreds. The third man, who had gotten tangled up with the first man I shot, struggled to free his weapon. I shot twice as he was partially protected by the first man. He screamed as my first shot hit him in the side. He freed himself just in time to take a full load in the chest. It threw him backward into the wall. The fourth man was crawling after the weapon he had dropped. I shot him in the back of his head. I giggled—I was War.
I continued walking, bow in hand, stepping over the bodies, smearing sweat and blood on every surface I passed. I giggled—I was Pestilence.
I staggered, banging into one wall then another, as I made my way down hallway after hallway, burning with fever, sweating, and dizzy. Each hallway seemed twenty kilometers long. When I fell from exhaustion or tripped, I stayed down and slept.
I woke to roaring laughter. A giant of a man stood half naked as he stripped. His arms and legs covered with blisters oozing blood and puss. I shot him in his exposed groin. He screamed obscenities as he was thrown backward, voiding urine, guts, and stool as he crashed into the opposite wall. I rose and continued my trek, stopping to open doors and shooting anyone who was still alive. Most were too sick and made no attempt to move or to protect themselves.
I found myself in the galley. I was thirsty and drank my fill of water, stuffed my mouth with cold food which lay on the preparation table, and staggered on. I wandered mindlessly, spreading the virus and killing those I saw, not knowing where I was going but pulled like the needle of a compass. With no windows I had no sense of time. It didn't matter. I was in stage five of the Coaca Virus and didn't have long to live. When I looked around, I stood only a short distance from the Bridge and in front of the captain's quarters. I shot the lock and the door slid open. The captain lay on the bed, dead, and the man with the pale horse stood at the foot of the bed. "He was mine," a voice boomed inside my head, and the man faded to a mist. When it cleared, a red-headed krait lay there. I collapsed. The last thing I remembered was a small red-headed angel staring at me.
"I'm ready to see my mother, father, and Grandpa Ianus." I said, content to die.
* * *
I woke lying on the floor, feeling weak, but my head was clear and I wasn't burning with fever. The scabs on my arms were drying and didn't look as ugly. Red was twisted around my neck. I reached up and pulled him to my face and kissed him. Holding him in front of me, I laughed. "I guess you aren't going to take me to heaven this time either."
The contact seemed to give me strength and I managed to stand, using the bed to steady me. I opened the door which led into the captain's office and found the small kitchen used to prepare his private meals. I spent the next two days there, either eating or sleeping. On the third day I knew the virus was no longer active, and I felt fit enough to move around if I didn't overdo it. I considered using the Regen unit but wasn't sure how it worked, or if I would be able to exit the unit after treatment, or that there weren't one or two still alive.
I'm not sure why, but I felt the need to clean up the mess and to make sure I was alone—occasionally a person survived the virus. I made my way to the cargo hold, activated an antigravity mover and began searching each room while collecting bodies. The mover could only hold five bodies without them shifting and falling off or making it difficult to negotiate the hallways. I stacked them in the container where I had been held captive. In my weakened state, it took three days before I felt confident I had found them all. In the process of cleaning up an image emerged of what had happened over the previous weeks. At some point the crew realized they had a virus on the ship and the ship's dispensary was crowded with those infected—those who had made contact with me. Then they realized Regen couldn't cure the virus and
those who thought they weren't infected began setting up Safe Zones and shot anyone entering the zone. But, of course, people in the Safe Zone began showing symptoms. They tried to find places to hide, and those who thought they had survived hunted them. By that time everything was infected and there was no safe place on the ship. Early on, Captain Santo realized the krait was a cure and released it. But Red injected him with enough poison to kill him. The captain's plan to break me had spread the Coaca Virus to every part of the ship: crew quarters, galley, Bridge, and work areas. And leaving the ship in emergency pods or shuttles wasn't an option. Even if they were rescued, they would be hanged. They could only wait and hope they would survive the virus. But less than one percent survived the Coaca Virus. Those few who might have survived were either gunned down by their mates or me.
* * *
I sat at the captain's dining table, eating, while trying to decide what to do next.
* I didn't know what system I was in or where I was in the system or where the ship was headed.
* I had enough food to last me for a year.
* All systems were operational.
* The ship was a foreign war ship and would probably be destroyed if spotted.
* The ship may still be contaminated. I had moved the bodies but had I gotten rid of the virus?
"Mother, I need you," I moaned and laid my head in my arms and cried. The past weeks came crashing down on me—the pain, abuse, alone, and lost. The fever and virus may be under control, but my body was badly damaged and movement was painful, my mind kept hopping from lucid to confused, and nightmares plagued my sleep. I wished for the sleep of the dead.
* * *
I woke to feather-light touches on my eyelids, nose, lips. Opening my eyes, I stared into Red's head and flicking tongue. "Bored?" I asked, and thought I felt his agreement as he wound around my neck and laid his head on my shoulder. "All right, but you have to help," I said as I rose from the mattress I had commandeered from one of the rooms and placed in the captain's office. I made my way to the Bridge and stood looking around. The Naval Academy had given me the theoretical knowledge to fly a cruiser, which was a far cry from the practical knowledge that came from experience. I walked around the room, examining each console. Well, I didn't need weapons or ECM. I did need navigation, sensor suite, communications, and the helm's controls.
I began with radar suite. It would be helpful to know where I was. Three hours later, I concluded I was in Westar space but well out of the normal traffic lanes between the Wave and the inhabited planet. Then the problem of where to go. Westar would be the easiest, but if I encountered a Navy cruiser could I keep them from firing on me or wanting to board? I could claim P1A authority, but they might not believe me, couldn't verify it easily without information from Eastar, and the thought of destroying an enemy war ship too much to resist. I could hope the Scylla was still there and would be the first to find me or… I had a splitting headache. The way I was dressed, no one would believe me or be willing to check. The captain’s natural aggressiveness would trump caution.
I finally concluded Eastar was the safest system, although not without risk. It would depend on who found me first and where. I decided to sleep on it as the ship was presently in orbit around some large gas planet, so I was unlikely to run into a patrol or merchant traffic.
After something to eat and a full day checking and rechecking my calculations, I set a course for the Wave and Eastar. Estimated arrival time—given I didn't jump into another galaxy—was six days, six hours, twenty minutes.
I spent the time reviewing the communication panel and found the ship was the FPU Cruiser Shark out of the Free People's Union and had changed the ship identification to the UAS Cruiser Pontus. I also found my P1A badge in Santo's office. I couldn't find my old clothes but did manage to find a uniform which was only two sizes too big, and had commander insignia. Looking in a mirror, I wasn't sure if that would make me more or less believable.
By the time I finally exited the Wave into Eastar, I was running a fever, alternating between chills and sweating, and my whole body racked with pain. I didn't think there was a spot that wasn't black, blue, yellow, or purple—Regen mended bones, help seal tears in the skin and arteries and accelerated the healing. But you were fragile and, depending on the injuries, required rest and medication for full recovery. I had received no rest or medicine to preclude infections or to aid the healing process.
* * *
"Unknown cruiser, this is Captain Laplante of the UAS Cruiser Rhode. Cut your engines and prepare to be boarded," blasted through the Bridge speakers and jarred me out of a nightmare of men chasing me through the ship, using dogs to track me. When I looked up at the monitor, a square face showing signs of age appeared. I could see the predatory excitement in his eyes. I straightened in the captain's chair and accepted a connection. Fortunately, I was sitting, because my uniform was several sizes too big. I wanted to cry. I was too exhausted to argue with him, but I knew from the look on his face he wasn't going to listen to reason.
"Captain, I'm Commander Paulus. The Eastar NIA Station Chief operating with P1A authority. You are ordered—"
"Cut you engines or we will destroy your ship," he shouted.
"Shut up, Captain." I held up my P1A badge. "This is my authority. I'm ordering you to contact Admiral Webb. Now! Or I promise you your career is over and you will spend the rest of your life in prison. Tell him I want a tight beam connection. The information concerns Project Rabbit." I cut the connection. If I hadn't, he would continue to make demands. And I suspected I wouldn't win the argument. This way he either had to destroy the ship or contact Webb. I think I passed out, because I woke to a request for a tight beam connection. When I accepted the connection, Admiral Webb's face appeared.
"Paulus, is that you?" he said, frowning as he stared at me. I cried. It took me several minutes to stop enough to continue. "You look beautiful," I said while trying to dry my eyes. "Sorry, sir. You need to take control of this ship. It's a FPU warship but it may still be contaminated with the Coaca Virus. Contact Dr. Renata. She will know what to do to keep everyone safe. Tell my mother I'm alive." The mic slipped out of my hand and the world went black.
CHAPTER NINE
To Continue or Not to Continue
"Dr. Renata, I'm Admiral Webb. Commander Paulus asked me to call you—" Webb began.
"Is she all right? Of course she's not, if she wants me. Where is she?" Renata rambled on, excited and terrified at the same time. Alexa had told her that Anna had been kidnapped on Westar and neither the police nor the NIA could find a trace of her. After a week of multiple investigations, they had managed to piece together a sketchy picture of what had happened. Anna and her security were gassed while riding the elevator from Commander Shrader's condo unit to the ground floor. The kidnappers had removed Anna and her krait on the second floor and used the stairs to reach the below-level parking where a stolen ground vehicle drove them away. They quickly changed cars again and left the city to where they had a skimmer waiting. The skimmer took her someplace where they think a shuttle delivered her to a spaceship.
Webb held up his hand. "I spoke to her a few minutes ago. She's on a FPU cruiser, but she didn't look good. I could barely recognize her. She said the ship maybe contaminated with the Coaca Virus and you would know what to do."
"No one should enter that ship!" Renata half shouted, imagining the disaster if Marines entered without protective gear. They could unleash an epidemic that could spread throughout the ship.
"She stopped Captain Laplante using her P1A authority. The question is what to do next? I need to get a crew onto that ship. It's heading toward Eden space and needs to be stopped and Paulus removed."
"I'll get a team together—"
"Hurry, I have a shuttle on the way. It will be there within a few minutes. They will get you to the UAS Cruiser Rhode, which is shadowing the FPU cruiser."
Renata cut the connection and immediately began assembling a small team and t
he equipment they would need. When they exited the hospital, a combat shuttle waited on the landing pad.
"Buckle in, folks," a young lieutenant said, grinning. "It's going to be a hot ride. Admiral Webb wants us in orbit an hour ago, so we're late. We're to rendezvous with the Typhon, which will take you to the Rhode." The lieutenant had no sooner finished when the shuttle rose and began accelerating at a rate that kept everyone plastered to their seats, making even simple movements both difficult and painful. When they reached the Typhon, they slid into one of the shuttle bays. Although unaware they were accelerating again, but this time the Typhon's compensators negated the otherwise crushing gravitational effect.
The shuttle door opened and a middle-aged captain entered. "Dr. Renata, I'm Captain Razzo. Please stay strapped in. This won't take long. We are going to skip close to the Rhode's location and this shuttle will take you to the ship." As he talked, everyone in the shuttle faded for several seconds and then solidified. "That's it." He smiled and exited the shuttle. Twenty minutes later the shuttle was pulled into one of the Rhode's shuttle bays.
When Renata exited the shuttle, a bulldog-faced captain waited at the bottom of the steps.
"I'm Captain Laplante, in command of the Rhode. We have much to discuss, so why don't you and your team come to my office where we can relax and get something to eat and drink.
"I'd like to get on the cruiser as soon as possible," Renata said.
"I'd like to understand the situation before we rush in. That's a FPU cruiser and although its weapons systems aren't active, it's a nasty ship. I contacted the ship, wanting it to cut engines, and a waif of a girl appeared in a uniform which clearly didn't fit her." He snorted. "She told me to shut up, showed a P1A authorization badge, and told me to contact Admiral Webb or I'd spend the rest of my life in prison. I had a million questions but she cut the connection. When she wouldn't accept another connection, she left me only two choices: destroy the cruiser or call Admiral Webb. The thought of Admiral Webb berating me for being an idiot for not destroying the cruiser was almost as bad as the thought of spending the rest of my life in prison. She mentioned that it concerned Project Rabbit, which tipped the balance in favor of calling Webb. Although it reminded me of the story of Alice and Wonderland, it had to be a real project." He sobered. "Unless Paulus opens one of the shuttle bays, we will have to force our way in, and we will need Marines to make sure she isn't being held and it isn't a trap."