Omnipotence: Book I: Odyssey

by Geoff Gaywood

  Arlette drew in her breath. “How do we defend ourselves if all the remaining nineteen targets have already been infected and decide to attack us again?”

  “We are monitoring all the suspects as we speak,” said Henri, “and we will prevent them from assembling by force if necessary. We’ll detain them one by one at the clinic if they test positive when reporting for their vaccinations.”

  Arlette thought this over. She was still in shock over the brutality of the attack in the control centre, but it made sense to deal with each suspect individually and well away from his home territory. “Alright,” she said, “but you had better make damn sure that you are in place to pick off any aggressor before there’s any repeat of the carnage in the control centre.”

  * * *

  Hannah’s announcement was made in a motherly tone.

  “Dear crew-mates,” she began, “I’m afraid we have a rather virulent infection going around. The symptoms are flu-like with severe headache and muscular weakness, and in view of the importance of having all the crew members in peak condition for the critical tasks ahead, we have decided that we need to take immediate steps to prevent any further cases. A vaccine has been developed and tested and we are ready to treat you all. I will notify each one of you of the time of your appointment at the clinic, and I promise that the treatment will be painless. Thank you.” The last comments were made with a smile on her face.

  Meanwhile a maintenance team was busy making rooms around the clinic secure for detention, and four militiamen took up positions as orderlies, their weapons stowed out of sight. “Be prepared to use force immediately if any of the patients becomes aggressive,” Henri instructed them, “and be especially alert when a patient is announced as Mr or Ms.”

  Henri met with the command team and Hannah for dinner in Arlette’s quarters. They were poring over the appointment schedule and especially the position of the nineteen on it. “Well, you’ve managed to get them all in on the first day,” said Julia with relief. “How do you expect it to go with patients who are infected, know it and expect to be triggered – in other words those likely to be highly suspicious of the vaccination process?”

  “I see three probable responses,” said Henri: “no shows, sudden aggression, or acquiescence. In case one we will send a couple of militiamen to ‘remind the patient of their appointment’ – in fact to arrest them as inconspicuously as possible. That’s why there’s always a good half hour between the appointments of the nineteen. In case two we will restrain and detain immediately. It’s case three where we have to be extremely careful. The patient may be playing for time or blissfully unaware. In these cases we need to monitor them for a period of time after the vaccination – can we do that, Hannah?”

  “We can do half an hour,” she replied, “and we’ll put them into a room that is continuously monitored. But we don’t expect any visible clinical reaction to the vaccine – it will have to be a case of monitoring suspicious behaviours.”

  “I don’t think that’s good enough,” opined Julia. “If I were the agency who could control this group I would instruct them to avoid responses one and two – they are just lose–lose. Either you attack while you still have control over them, or you bide your time and assess the impact of the vaccine. You don’t take a course of action which exposes them to being detected and taken out one by one.”

  “I have to agree with you, Julia,” said Henri. Arlette, Chang and Marcel were nodding. “The surprise attack failed – I doubt that they’ll try that again, especially considering that they can assume that we know a lot more than we did before. They’d need to lull us into a false sense of security first. They want us to assume that the vaccine had worked 100 per cent, and they probably have the means to check that.”

  “So where the hell is this clandestine group of miscreants operating?” demanded Arlette. “It’s intolerable that we have an active fifth column on this ship and we don’t know where they are! Why haven’t you found them?”

  Henri looked pained. “Let’s be frank here,” he said. “If this had been some opportunistic little operation, set up on a whim, we’d have found them long ago. It’s much worse than that. Their base had to have been engineered into the ship when it was built in such a way that it occupies space that we wouldn’t or couldn’t search.”

  “Like what?”

  “A secure storage area, a fuel tank, a motor, a large piece of equipment of some kind. We cannot just burn holes in things to see if they really are what they’re supposed to be.”

  “Then we must redouble our surveillance capabilities and monitor every part of the ship,” said Arlette.

  “Yes, that’s an ongoing priority for IT,” said Henri, “and I’m hoping that the vaccination exercise will cause one of these operatives to blow his cover.”

  The focus of the discussion turned back to the vaccination programme.

  “Hannah, what are the probabilities that the vaccine will disable the virus in those already infected?”

  “Oh, the vaccine contains an antibody that will knock out the active virus in the patients, Commander, but it may be that it has chronically modified the brain function. We are researching this as we speak, but it will take a long time to get an answer using synthetic tissue. We would not really know unless we could work with the brain of one of those who had been infected.”

  “Well, let’s do that!” Henri interjected. “Let’s just take out one or two of the Wayward 19 and do further tests on them.”

  Hannah looked shocked. “We couldn’t do that without the patient’s approval; it would contravene…”

  Henri cut across her. “Commander, I think we have to consider all measures to regain control of this very threatening situation.”

  Arlette looked at Julia, but it was Chang who spoke. “We have identified the Wayward 19, as you call them, from their genetic profiles and we shall know quite soon which of them have been infected, or if anyone else has, from blood tests. Let’s not raise the suspicions of our adversary here by making people disappear on some improbable pretext. We can recall a few patients in a couple of days for further tests if need be, but for now let them think that we are confident that we have dealt with the threat. We can’t afford to exclude valuable crew members from the ship’s operations. We have already lost too many.”

  “I’m not proposing wholesale elimination!” protested Henri. “But if we’d known in advance about the intentions of the five assailants, wouldn’t we have taken them out before they could perpetrate those grotesque murders in the control centre?”

  “That’s hypothetical, Colonel Bertin; we can never know people’s actions in advance. In the meantime we are going to adhere to the standards of civilised people dealing with others who have an externally induced mental dysfunction. How can we retain the respect and confidence of our crew otherwise? We know who they are and we have the tools in our hands to deal with them. We can review this again after completion of the vaccination programme.”

  Arlette stood up and prepared to leave the table. Her colleagues followed but Hannah excused herself. “Big day tomorrow,” she said.

  17

  An Unwelcome Discovery

  It was indeed a big day, which began in the early hours of the morning with the reorientation of the ship and a four-hour booster burn to slow her down and adjust her course. Sanam and Arun were again on pilot duty together, apparently enjoying their supposed distinction of being human civilisation’s first hyper-velocity weightless lovers. Without impugning their professional discipline, they managed to communicate, by facial expression, thoughts that only the two of them could share. When their duty shift was completed, and Prometheus was on course for its first planetary rendezvous outside the solar system, they retired with smoking eyes to Sanam’s quarters and indulged their lust once more before the unfamiliar star-scape. There was a moment when Sanam briefly considered what it would take to disable the induced gravity system for their personal pleasure, but the telepathic communication
between them was so refined that Arun had lifted her off her feet at the same instant and subjected her to a sensation almost as sublime as before.

  The vaccination programme had been underway for some ninety minutes when Ginger Clark reported for her appointment. The receptionist checked the name but did not look up from her screen as she announced, “Ms Ginger Clark, IT department, booth 3.” Two orderlies fell in beside her as she approached the booth and she stiffened slightly, then stopped, looking around her. Then the cheery voice of Dr Leonards called out, “Come on in, Ginger,” and she went on in, cautiously.

  Dr Leonards asked her briefly about her medical history, which he knew already, and whether she had had any recent flu symptoms. “Absolutely not,” came the reply.

  “Good,” said Dr Leonards. “Let’s make sure you stay that way. I’ll take a blood sample first so that we have before-and-after records of your condition…”

  “No,” said Ginger.

  “We have to do this, Ginger,” went on Dr Leonards. “When we are using a newly developed vaccine. We have to test for any possible allergic reaction before…”

  “No,” said Ginger, and stood up.

  Almost immediately she found herself seated again, her arms held down on the table by the two orderlies while Dr Leonards deftly pricked her finger and extracted a drop of blood. Ginger screamed. She writhed and kicked, a venomous expression on her face. “Now then, Ginger, this will calm you down,” said the doctor, giving her a hefty injection. Gingers eye’s widened, then closed slowly. She slumped forward.

  “Right,” said Dr Leonards, “we may have to do that proactively with our more highly strung patients.” He dropped the blood sample onto a tiny transparent pad, which he slipped into a machine. He looked at the screen briefly. “Hmm, positive. There we are!” Unknowingly, the slumped body received her vaccination.

  “She didn’t like seeing her own blood,” said one of the orderlies. “She stared at it like a crazy thing!”

  Dr Leonards called Hannah Cohen and reported the incident, adding that the sight of blood had apparently triggered Ginger’s outburst. Hannah promptly directed that the rest of the nineteen should be told that they were going to receive the vaccine, but should be heavily sedated first and then vaccinated.

  When Ginger awoke several hours later she was told that she had fainted at the sight of the needle. She remembered nothing. As the day wore on, this process would be repeated another eighteen times, but no infections were detected outside of the selected group.

  The command team met over dinner again with Hannah and reviewed the day’s events.

  “Smart to apply pre-emptive sedation,” said Arlette with satisfaction, “What else did we learn?”

  “Bill Leonards described Ginger Clark’s response as crazed; an extreme hysterical reaction. It’s not clear to me whether it was a response to being restrained or, as Bill thinks, to the sight of blood.”

  “For an induced trigger, blood would seem more practical,” observed Henri, “but a violent reaction to restraint is also a useful trait in a soldier. I think we should conclude that we have nineteen potential terrorists on board, that we know who they are, and that they can probably be triggered by some kind of violent signal.”

  “Don’t tell me that you want to take them all out,” said Arlette. “We just don’t have the manpower to replace them”.

  “No,” replied Henri. “I have a better idea.”

  “Go on, amaze me.”

  “I think we should test each one of them to see which triggers work, if they still do after the vaccination, and then re-recruit them for our own purposes.”

  There was a long silence.

  Finally Arlette asked, “How are you going to test them for triggers?”

  “Have the psychology team work with them,” said Henri. “We have identified a disorder and we know its cause. Never mind who infected them and why; that’s peripheral now. We can have the triggers and their consequences identified and then decide how we are going to manage them.”

  Everyone looked at Hannah.

  “Yes, that’s within the scope of the psychology team,” she said slowly, “but if we want to explore the full range of responses, we’ll need an armed presence.”

  “Easily arranged,” countered Henri.

  “No, not the same people we used as orderlies in the clinic. Their faces alone might trigger a reaction. We need new people.”

  “OK,” said Henri. “At least I can now be fairly confident that no other members of my team are infected, so I can supply six new faces.”

  “Alright, I think we had better get going. I really don’t feel comfortable knowing we have nineteen potential psychopaths around.” She rose to leave. “I’ll get this started right away.”

  At the other end of the table Arlette was staring ahead, her brow furrowed. “What?!” she said out loud, obviously on the receiving end of a CTT call. “Are you sure?”

  Apparently the answer was affirmative.

  She looked around the table at her companions, and decided that all of them should hear the news immediately.

  “Navigation has just informed me”, she said, “that, while they were doing a detailed sweep of the Omega 16 solar system, they detected a space–time anomaly. There is, apparently, an entrance to another wormhole on the orbit of gas giant 16-5.”

  There was silence around the table.

  “Holy cow,” said Marcel finally. “Where does it lead to?”

  Arlette swallowed. “They are telling me that the outlet is not in the Milky Way; that the connection is to Andromeda.”

  All eyes were on Arlette. “To another galaxy?” Marcel’s voice was thin, almost reedy. A dozen questions flashed through his mind, none of which could be answered. “Someone else got here first, from an utterly alien civilisation?”

  “Whoa Marcel! Let’s take this one step at a time. We don’t know whether anyone else has been to Omega 16, or whether they intend to come, or what their intentions are when they get here,” said Arlette, “but we can expect to get some insight as we progress our explorations. Would you, Chang and Julia please debrief Navigation fully on their data, and then propose some strategic options. I have instructed them to keep the lid on this until I am ready to make an announcement.”

  As Henri left the room, he mused on how much more important control of the Wayward 19 might turn out to be.

  Hannah’s team of eight psychologists and two psychiatrists were deployed in shifts to interview and test the nineteen suspects. It did not take them longer than their first three assessments to find out that all were transformed into a state of violent frenzy by the sight of blood and the words ‘death’, ‘kill’ and ‘Pandora’. It took a little longer before it was learned that the sight of a sword blade inspired absolute obedience to the sword bearer. These findings were borne out in each successive assessment.

  As Henri and Hannah sat discussing these results, the significance of the sword that Brady had carried, which Henri now placed on the table before them, suddenly struck both of them almost simultaneously. “Kazarov and Schindler!” exclaimed Hannah. “It was a sword they were killed with! They were ritual murders!”

  Henri was nodding. “Words as triggers would be too easily manipulated. Even pathological murderers need to know who’s giving the orders. But now we have it!”

  “Perhaps it’s not the only one?” said Hannah, eyebrows raised.

  “Hmm, seems to me it could quickly become the ‘must have’ accessory of the season on Prometheus,” mused Henri. “I know a couple of guys in maintenance who would just love to take a shot at making some copies. Do you think there’s anything mystical about this particular sword, or do you think a half-decent copy would work?”

  Hannah smiled. “I’m not much into mystical,” she said, “and unless that sword contains some kind of electronic device that can trigger a response in people infected by the virus, I’d say that a good copy would do just fine. How could those terrorists have known one swo
rd from another? It looks pretty plain to me.”

  Henri picked it up and examined it closely. ‘No dummy, this Hannah Cohen,’ he thought. “There could be something inside the handle – we’ll check it out.”

  There was just one problem – two of the twelve maintenance engineers on board were members of the Wayward 19. “I’d appreciate it, Hannah, if you could keep Columbo and Kinross under sedation while I get this job done,” said Henri.

  Hannah sighed. “Alright, I will,” she said.

  * * *

  “I’m in it up to my ears, Jafar!” Hannah was telling him. “The substance that Helmut Schindler was analysing when he was murdered is a virus which modifies the response of genetically disposed individuals and allows them to be manipulated to perpetrate the most horribly violent crimes. Now I’m a party to a forced vaccination programme and psychological experiments to determine the triggers. Twelve people have been killed, seven of them murdered by whoever is controlling this conspiracy.”

  Hannah frowned. “I’m also now a de facto member of the command team and working closely with Henri Bertin to help get this under control. He’s a very attractive and intelligent man but with a militaristic inclination to have all suspects summarily eliminated. Fortunately Julia Rogers maintains a pragmatically balanced humanistic view and has the capacity to laugh at him when he gets too frightening.

  “Commander Piccard? Well, she just manages the debate and keeps her options open. She seems to enjoy the confrontation but she never hesitates to make the tough choices. She’s very alone, though, and I think she needs to offload sometimes. I have a feeling she’s looking for a soulmate and I may find myself slipping into that role. Marcel Rousseau and Chang are just typical hard-baked operatives. Rousseau has an irritating habit of looking for sexual innuendo in just about everything but I must admit he is funny. Chang is just tough and inscrutable.