Anna threw out her arms for balance, riding the declining bounces with bursts of laughter until the bed at last became still. She decided not to try the bathroom until John showed up. She knew a lot more about dead civilizations than living ones. Out the window Centauri Prime came into view as the station rotated above it. The blue water and tan- colored land masses, strewn with wispy clouds, reminded her of Earth. The communication console rang out a short, grandiose flourish. Anna ran over to answer it. The controls were similar to those she was used to, and she quickly saw how it worked. She accepted audio and visual.
"Hi there." It was John.
He had his military face on, which meant a tensing of the brows, a tautness to the cheeks, and a slight downturn to the lips. Seeing him instantly made her smile, and her expression was mirrored in his. The smile lit up his face. For a few moments they simply took each other in.
"How was your trip?" he asked.
"Well, if your sister hadn't gotten me drunk the night before I left, it would have been better. But after the first day it was fine."
She slipped into the plush purple seat beside the console.
"How about you? Are you here? How's the ship?"
"Yes, we're in space dock. They say it's only forty minutes to the hotel. The Agamemnon is incredible. You can hardly feel the transition into hyperspace. This ship can do things you wouldn't believe. The maneuverability, for a ship this size, is incredible."
His hand closed into a fist as if to capture his excitement, his voice rising like a boy with a new toy.
"There are a lot of new systems to learn, but I'm working on it. I'm going to learn every inch of this ship inside and out."
"I have something here that requires an equally thorough study, Captain."
John's mouth hesitated in mid-response as the meaning of the words caught up with him.
"I would be happy to help you in that endeavor, Doctor."
He looked down at something.
"I'm afraid I'm going to be a little late, though. I'm having a surprise inspection."
"I thought I was giving that to you."
"You're next. How's the room?"
"I've been trying out the bed," she said.
"It has a number of special features."
He laughed.
"Sounds like you don't even need me."
She gave him her husky voice.
"Oh, but I do."
"I'll call you if I'm not going to make it by tonight. I love you."
Although they always ended their calls this way, there was nothing automatic or perfunctory in the statement. He meant it every time he said it. As did she.
"I love you."
He disconnected, and she felt a silly smile on her face. Okay, so now what did she do? She could tour the station, but she was tired, and she didn't really feel like dealing with people, not after three days in the close quarters of a transport. She found herself digging the container with the mouse fragment out of her carryall. Liz had told her to forget about work. Well, she'd forget about it when John showed up.
She removed the stiff fragment, laid it on the communications console. The anchovy smell had gotten stronger, and the piece had dried somewhat since she'd looked at it last. The edges felt crusty, sharp and artificial, almost like plastic, while the central area still looked almost like skin, though now stiff and dry. The color was now a uniform shade of charcoal. She wished she had her equipment with her, so she could take some readings. But surely Chang was running every test in the book on the fragments in his possession.
Hesitantly, with a shadow of the fear she'd felt when she'd connected with the mouse, she picked up the fragment and stroked it with her index finger, focusing her attention on it. She couldn't imagine that it was still operative. But without any equipment, there was little else she could try. The coloring of the piece remained constant. She sensed no heat from it, no life. She wondered what its true purpose had been. It could have been designed to explode, but she sensed that the explosion had been an accident, caused by the unstable feedback loop. The device seemed overly sophisticated for a bomb. She remembered the intensity of the mouse's thoughts, the clarity, the focus, the beat.
She received faint echoes of this now, halting, intermittent, interspersed with a blankness like static. And out of the blankness came the fresh scent of a bed of shavings, nuzzled into deep and warm, and of the cool darkness of stone all around. Then it was the machine all around, close and vital, beautiful, a perfect instrument painted in shadow, and then too close, too vital, currents racing in circulation, tightening like wires, the pain, the brilliant lockstep pain, rising in intensity, and then the shriek. It was only a tiny echo of what it had been in the lab, but it reminded her of the shriek she had heard then, the shriek that had been lost in everything that had followed. The shriek of something terrible being born. And dying. The communication console's grandiose flourish was sounding again and again. She put the fragment back in the container, put it out of view of the monitor.
"Hello?" Dr. Chang sat in his office, his face stiff, unreadable.
"Sorry to bother you on your vacation."
"No bother. John's been delayed. I'm just sitting here twiddling my thumbs."
"I have some exciting news."
He was speaking in his neutral tone.
"One of IPX's probes, out near the rim, has found something on a planet called Alpha Omega 3. The ruins of an ancient civilization no one has ever encountered before. The ruins cover over thirty percent of the planet's surface, and they're totally unlike those of any culture we know. Preliminary dating indicates the ruins are over one thousand years old. And there are indications of advanced technology."
Anna shook her head.
"This is huge. Why aren't you dancing on your desk?"
Chang glanced away, took a deep breath.
"Sorry. It's only ten o'clock, and it's already been a long day. The biggest discovery since the Krich, they're saying."
Her mind was racing. Being the first in a thousand years to walk in the ancient halls of a lost, advanced race, uncovering their implements, re-creating how they lived, how they thought, unlocking their secrets it was the ultimate rush.
"The biggest discovery of our lifetimes."
His face loosened into a smile.
"And I saved the best part."
"What!"
"Initial RNA screens indicate that the protein fingerprint of the planet's microorganisms matches that of your mouse. This could be its home."
Anna jumped to her feet and began circling the communications console.
"This is incredible. The chances have to be a billion to one. They're planning an expedition?"
Chang nodded.
"God, I would give anything to be on that ship. Who's mission commander?"
"I am." She stopped.
"They don't want me to go, do they?"
"It's not a matter of what they want. Or what I want. I need you to go. As science officer, second in command under me."
"They've okayed it?"
"They've okayed it."
"This is incredible. The chance to confirm a find like this, and to be the first ones to study it... As soon as I get back I'll start helping with the prep work and drawing up some preliminary lists of equipment."
"The expedition launches in ten days."
She thought she must have misunderstood.
"When?"
"Ten days from now. We're using the Icarus out of Station Prime. I'm leaving on a transport in an hour."
Anna rubbed her finger against the top of the console.
"That's impossible. There's no way you can prep an expedition in less than two months. How can they possibly..."
"When the bosses say jump, we jump."
But she knew it wasn't possible. Even if there was pressure to rush, which wouldn't be smart. After all, as exciting as this find was, the ruins weren't going anywhere. IPX had to have been prepping this mission for some time. Perhaps they'd only told
Chang about it now. Or perhaps he'd only told her about it now. She wondered if the rush had anything to do with the explosion of the mouse.
"I'd need you to start prep work for me right away. Your vacation would be shot."
"I understand."
She'd get more from Chang in person. He was telling her all he could for now.
"Does that mean you accept the position?"
She made her monkey face, as if deliberating.
"Of course I accept! How could I pass up an opportunity to be a part of history?"
Chang nodded, and she could have sworn his chest slumped.
"I thought it was an offer you couldn't refuse."
He held up a data crystal.
"I'll transmit the specs to you for follow-up. The crew is set, but I need you to give the equipment manifest a thorough going- over and coordinate with Captain Hidalgo of the Icarus. I'll give a mission briefing as soon as I arrive."
Anna nodded.
"Thank you for including me. I won't let you down."
Chang's final comment could have been taken as a compliment, though it somehow sounded more like a warning.
"If I didn't need you, Sheridan, I wouldn't bring you."
* * *
Whoever had written the inspection manual had been a sadist, at least as far as John was concerned. The inspection began in the zero-gravity sections at the aft end of the ship-the cargo bay, aft laser cannons, en gins-then down through the zero-gravity center of the ship, following the central laser tube and electronics connections, into the zero-gravity sections in the fore end of the ship-the fighter bay and the fore laser cannons-and then into the rotating gravity section near the center of the ship-the crew quarters, ship's stores, life support, mess, security, brig, command deck, engineering, and finished in the weapons bay.
As General Lochschmanan completed his tour of each section, finding everything satisfactory, John nodded tightly, thinking of the weapons bay still to come. The weapons bay was actually a misnomer. In an advanced Omega Class ship like the Agamemnon, the weapons bay was a fairly small room, about twenty by twenty feet, under normal watch conditions manned by one weapons officer and four gunners. Their main duties under those conditions were maintenance of the weapons bay systems, the central laser tube, and the four laser cannons; periodic checks; drills; and naval gazing.
During battle or battle alert conditions, or during an inspection, of course, the full complement of weapons officers and gunners was present. The weapons bay did not contain the four laser cannons themselves; they were mounted two and two at the fore and aft ends of the ship. Instead the weapons bay contained the hardware for the targeting system, which could be accessed here or on the command deck; the weapons diagnostic system, which gave detailed information about the condition and functioning of each component of the system; the weapons control system, through which the cannons and the tube were kept at the proper level of readiness and fine adjustments to their functioning were made; and the apparatus for the manual targeting system.
John doubted the manual targeting system aboard the Agamemnon had ever been used outside of drills or battle simulations. The four hemispheric man-sized cages looked horribly antiquated beside the sleek, advanced controls that surrounded them. But they provided a method for manual, holographic targeting in case of emergency, with one weapons officer handling one cannon inside each targeter. As the inspection progressed, the general discovered several infractions, in the mess of all places, gear not stowed properly, and in life support. His aide, a short, grave-looking woman, made notations on a comp-pad. Then the general led the way into the weapons bay, John and Commander Corchoran following.
Lochschmanan was the skinniest general John knew, but he carried himself with a deliberateness and authority that demanded respect. Each movement was crisp, each word enunciated. His uniform was immaculate. The weapons officers and gunners snapped to attention, the gunners in tight ranks in the center of the room, the weapons officers beside their various stations. The general approached the targeting system, beside which Lieutenant Watley stood, checking that the system had been left in standby mode and that it was in working order. Beside the general, Watley looked unkempt, her jacket wrinkled, her stetbar unpolished.
The general moved on to the weapons control system, shadowed by his aide and John. Spano and Lieutenant Ross, the weapons chief, stood nearby. John reviewed the correct settings for nonalert conditions: defense grid deactivated, baffles raised, tube hatches closed, activators off, optics off line. Lochschmanan bent closer to the console. His head turned toward John.
"Captain."
He'd found something.
"Yes, sir."
Lochschmanan pointed to the console, and the aide typed a note into her comp-pad. The optics had been left on line. John's jaw clenched. Optics on line when they were so near a space station was a serious error. The optics were a series of mirrors that regulated the flow of photons within the central tube and out to the four laser cannons. If there was a fire or explosion aboard the ship, with optics on line the laser cannons could accidentally fire. The general continued his inspection.
Spano and Ross kept their eyes front. Failing the inspection was more than an embarrassment to John and more than a black mark on his record: it was a breach of faith. Earthforce had put their faith in him, giving him command of one of their most powerful ships, trusting him to have the ability to run it efficiently and effectively. And he was failing them. He'd never doubted his own abilities-as a pilot, as a fighter, as a tactician, as a leader. But now something wasn't working. Under Captain Best's command, Earthforce discipline and commitment had broken down, and he didn't know how to fix them. They ended the inspection in John's office, a small room with a desk and chairs attached to his quarters.
John had managed to unpack most of his belongings: on a shelf mementos from various worlds he had visited; fastened to the walls photos of the wedding, Anna and Liz, his parents, and a large photograph of the Lone Cypress; secured to his desk his lamp and the snow globe of the Nantucket lighthouse he and Anna had fallen in love with on their honeymoon. But he still didn't feel at home, as he had aboard the Galatea. The four of them-Lochschmanan, his aide, John, and Corchoran-all remained standing. Lochschmanan seemed perpetually to be at attention.
"You have failed the inspection, Captain. Minor infractions in the mess and life support, and a major violation in the weapons bay."
Lochschmanan spoke with the same deliberateness with which he carried himself.
"That is unacceptable, and a disgrace to Earthforce."
"Yes, sir."
Nothing could make John feel any worse than he already did.
"We put you in command of the Agamemnon because we thought you could handle the increased responsibility. We thought you were worthy of her. If you can't get your crew to function competently under these calm conditions, how can you ever expect them to react well in a crisis?"
The general paused, glancing at Corchoran, and clasped his hands behind his back.
"I know you inherited a number of problems here, John, but we cannot afford to have the Agamemnon out of service. We need her back in fighting shape now. Consider this a test of your leadership abilities. If you can't be an effective leader, then your command will always be inferior. We need a strong leader in charge of the Agamemnon. Prove to me that we have one. In the meantime, I want you running this crew day and night until they get it right. If you need a limited number of transfers, I'll give them to you. Just get results."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
Lochschmanan's hands returned to his sides.
"The technicians should be over shortly to begin the systems upgrade. Make sure you give them full access."
"General, may I ask the nature of the upgrade?"
"You're being outfitted with a new stealth technology. I'll be back tomorrow to check on their progress, and I'll give you a full briefing at that time."
"Yes, sir."
Lochschm
anan nodded and made a smart turn out the door, followed by his grave-looking aide. John took a deep breath, determining to accomplish what the general had asked. He turned to Corchoran.
"I want you to set up a drill schedule. I want it hard and I want it heavy."
His hand punctuated each instruction with a short, chopping motion.
"And I want to conduct daily inspections. Each section chief will make a special daily progress report directly to you."
"Yes, sir," Corchoran said, his face seeming gloomier than ever beneath his pronounced brows.
"Just for the record, does this mean you're canceling leave?"
"Yes, it means we're canceling leave. You don't fail inspection and then go on leave. Now I want this schedule put into effect immediately. And let me know when the techs come on board."
Corchoran nodded.
"I'm sorry we let you down, sir."
John let out a breath, shook his head.
"I'm afraid we've all let Earthforce down. And I'm not going to let that happen again."
"Yes, sir," Corchoran said, and left.
John sat down behind his desk. It was ironic. During wartime, the crew either his face seeming gloomier than ever beneath his pronounced brows.
"Just for the record, does this mean you're canceling leave?"
"Yes, it means we're canceling leave. You don't fail inspection and then go on leave. Now I want this schedule put into effect immediately. And let me know when the techs come on board."
Corchoran nodded.
"I'm sorry we let you down, sir."
John let out a breath, shook his head.
"I'm afraid we've all let Earthforce down. And I'm not going to let that happen again."
Babylon 5 07 - The Shadow Within (Cavelos, Jeanne) Page 4