“Our people haven’t found anything yet.” Halliwell looked grim.
“Doesn’t mean there isn’t something there,” Fyn said. “If it is… intelligent…maybe it will help. The AI…made first contact with her.”
Carey started to look thoughtful. “That’s true, sir.”
“Is it safe to move her?” Halliwell started to look interested.
“We can ask the doc—but if he can’t help her, then we should take the risk. She’s going away if we don’t do something.”
Halliwell rubbed his head again. “Do it.”
* * * *
Fyn held Sara’s hand as the transport lifted off and took a heading toward Kikk. Her hand felt cold, like most of her was already gone.
A monitor next to her beeped regularly, proof she wasn’t, but the beats were getting further apart. Only last night she’d been singing, her gaze slanting his way from time to time.
Sometime during the ride to the planet, he could feel his… loyalties…shift, not just to Sara, but to her people. What had driven him into the Ojemba, it still mattered, but Sara mattered more. It was that simple.
He just hoped it would be that simple to get clear of them. He wished he had told the colonel about the Ojemba when he first came aboard. Now it was too late. All he could do is hope they never found out…
It seemed to take a long time to reach the city. Once Carey touched down, he released the rear hatch, so they could roll her stretcher out, though no one knew where to take her.
The medic adjusted her monitors, then pushed the stretcher down the ramp. Fyn walked beside it, still holding her hand. As soon as the stretcher cleared the ramp, a row of lights appeared in the stone path, stopping at a junction in the pathways ahead of them.
Carey looked at him. “I guess we follow the yellow…light…path.”
At his direction, the medic pushed the stretcher along the path. Carey walked ahead, weapon’s ready. When they reached the end of the lights, a new line of them appeared, disappearing around the side of the main building. The line of lights behind them disappeared.
Fyn pulled his weapon, eyeing the surrounding under growth. Light was fading fast and no one had really determined if there were biters on the island.
The path of lights led them gradually to a building near the shoreline of the island. As they approached, doors slid back. The interior had the look of a hospital about it. The smells were old, antiseptic.
Now the lights made a straight line to what looked like a dead end against a wall, but when they reached it, panels slid back.
Carey leaned in and studied it. “Could be an elevator. Let’s go.”
Once they were inside, there was a soft, green glow and then the doors opened again on a different corridor.
“Okay. A really fast elevator.” Carey peered out and once again the path of lights showed them the way. About halfway down this corridor, the lights made a right turn. “I think we’re almost there.”
Another door slid back for them and lights came on in a room that reminded Fyn of the infirmary on the Doolittle. The lights stopped at a table in the center of the room. There was a circle of lights over this and consoles on two sides.
“Let’s lift her on it,” Carey said. He looked as uneasy as the medic now.
Fyn was starting to have second thoughts, too, but if they left, what then? The beep of the monitor was slowing. She was dying.
The medic removed all the wires, and then stepped back. Fyn slid his arms under her and gently shifted her to the table. It wasn’t hard and seemed to expand to cushion and support her.
The light path formed into a circle around the table and began flashing.
“I think we’re supposed to step back,” Carey said.
Once they’d cleared the circle, the lights stopped flashing. Now the various monitors around the room began to turn on. The medic stepped up to one, but then just shook his head.
“No clue, sir.”
The lights over the bed began to glow and then beams of light shot down between them and Sara, like golden rain. In the light, Fyn thought he saw beads, like the ones that left Sara during the battle.
The medic seemed fascinated with it and reached out to touch the streams. Carey grabbed his arm. “I wouldn’t.”
“Right, sir, sorry.”
Gradually the light curtain began to slow. The streams thinned and then it was gone. The room went quiet, the monitors all shut down. The light dimmed, putting them all into shadow.
After a short pause, the medic approached her and checked her pulse.
“It’s stronger, sir.” He turned to get the heart monitor, but while his back was turned, Sara sighed and opened her eyes.
For a moment, she stared up, and then a slight frown formed between her brows.
“Donovan?”
Her head turned toward his voice. She blinked. “Colonel Carey?”
He stepped up beside her. “Who else would it be?”
Her mouth curved. “Sorry, sir.” She blinked again. “Where am I?”
“You’re on the island, their version of a hospital, we think.”
Her hand touched her heart, then spread over the spot. She seemed surprised.
“My…heart stopped.”
“It’s going again.” Carey looked at Fyn. “How do you feel?”
“Surprised.”
“Surprised?”
“To be alive” She looked at him. “Is mom all right?”
Carey grinned. “Yes, she is.”
“That’s good.” Her eyes closed as she sighed.
Fyn saw Carey give him another look and finally got his legs in motion. He looked down at her. Her lids lifted.
“I’d like to get up.” She looked down, her eyes widening in horror. “Where’s my uniform?”
The medic cleared his throat. “In the infirmary. On the ship.”
“I don’t suppose anyone thought to bring me something to wear?”
Fyn looked at Carey, who looked at the medic, who shrugged.
“You were all real optimistic about this, weren’t you?”
“We didn’t bring a body bag,” Carey pointed out.
“At least it would be something to wear without a flap in the back.” Sara sounded stern, but her lips twitched.
Carey opened his mouth, shut it. “I should let the colonel know you’re all right.”
As he stepped out into the hall and activated his radio, Fyn wished he could think of a reason to join him.
“Give me your knife,” she told Fyn.
“What?” Who was she going to cut?
“Your knife.”
He handed her one, exchanging an uneasy look with the medic. She grabbed the blanket covering her and cut a hole in it.
“Hey, that’s government property,” the medic protested.
Sara looked at him. “So am I.”
She pulled the blanket over her head and arranged the folds. She handed the knife back, then looked down.
She held out her hand.
Fyn took it. It was warm again and it…fit in his. She used it to pull herself off the table, landing lightly on the floor. The blanket fell around her in folds, leaving a lot of leg bare.
Fyn had to look. Apparently so did the medic.
Sara cleared her throat to get the medic’s attention. “If you don’t want to be wearing this, eyes up.”
“Sorry, ma’am.” But he still peeked.
Sara held one leg out and studied it, her head to one side. She looked up and caught Fyn watching her. She grinned.
“What is the big deal about a couple of legs anyway?”
Fyn looked at the medic. If she didn’t know, he couldn’t explain it.
Part Two – Eight
Sara got her breakfast tray and found an empty table. As she settled down to eat, it was hard not to feel like she’d gone back in time. She’d been in the island city for a week…a really long week. Not only was she still grounded, she was stuck with the jarheads and the scientis
ts—none of whom were interested in a fighter puke. She missed mother, the squadron and Fyn. The order of missing depended on her mood.
To keep her busy and out of everyone’s way, the Old Man had assigned her to survey and map the city. He said it was an “opportunity to excel,” which basically meant the job sucked and no one else wanted to do it. And she wouldn’t get any help from anyone.
It wasn’t that Sara minded exploring the city. It was a very interesting place, more than the geeks knew. But she was a pilot, not a cartographer. She’d found some pretty cool stuff, but the head geek, Dr. Smith, a guy who considered her the lint on a bug’s shoe, was pissed she’d been assigned to them, so he didn’t want to talk to her or hear about anything she’d found. So she wrote reports he probably wasn’t reading.
Since her return to the city, her connection with the computer had grown. She’d started reading one of the Garradian books on her lunch break. It wasn’t easy going, but she was making some headway. Either the book was a novel or a history of some kind. Not sure which yet, but she was really into the main characters.
There was also no more booming with the band. The Old Man had sent her stuff down, so she had her keyboard. Most evenings she sat in her room with headphones on, picking out Nora Jones songs and trying not to think about all the things she was missing.
The Patton was due to reach the galaxy any day. The outpost would be reinforced and both it and the Doolittle would be resupplied. Hopefully then she could return to the ship and her real life.
It was ironic. She’d spent most of her life like this, eating alone and living isolated. She’d actually preferred it. But something had happened when she met Fyn. She’d connected, and not just with Fyn. It was hard to go back. She’d always gone forward.
Though Smith dismissed the AI theory, probably because Sara was the first to bring it up, Sara was convinced that it did exist, or at least something…was alive. It went where Sara went, occasionally providing a hint to something interesting.
Technically Sara wasn’t supposed to be wandering around on her own. Henderson, the SO for the expedition, should have assigned her one his jarheads, but after two days with her, none of the Marines wanted the job.
And, to be fair, Sara didn’t want them. She didn’t want an audience for some of the things that happened to her.
Sara finished her breakfast and took her tray over to the clean up point, picked up her sack lunch, then headed back to her quarters to gear up.
Even though the outpost appeared benign, they were all under orders to wear vests and carry all armament when they went outside the main security zone. On earth, she would have been wearing a standard AF uniform, but out here, everyone mostly wore ABU’s. It was a tiger stripe pattern that provided much better camouflage under all types of conditions. It was lightweight and comfortable, too, not to mention wash and wear.
Sara checked her pack, and then stowed her side arm and knife. Her P-90 hung off a clip on the front of her vest. She had her book to read, her lunch and that funny flute she’d found on her last visit. She was getting pretty good with it. When she was ready, she got on the radio with Henderson.
“This is Donovan, sir. I’m heading out. I’ll be in Zone Five again.” From what she could tell, this zone had a lot research type crap. And it was close to the ocean. She could eat lunch on the beach and play some tunes. When she played there, these dolphin-like critters would come close to the shoreline and leap and play for her.
“Roger that.” Henderson didn’t yawn in her ear, but it sounded like it was a near thing.
It would have taken Sara about forty-five minutes to walk to the zone, but on her first solo day out, her AI—Sara called her Ruby—had “introduced” her to a sort of subway system. Not that a subway moved that fast. And these weren’t underground.
Sara slipped on shades and her cap, and then stepped out into the bright, light morning. She was almost getting used to that blue-green sky and it was nice to have a breeze on her face.
She headed toward the first subway depot, stepping through an arched doorway, into a small chamber that kind of reminded her of pictures she’d seen of Victoria Station in London. The painting on the wall was actually a map of the city—and a sort of touch screen. She touched her destination and off she went.
When it stopped flashing, Sara stepped out, heading for the next building on her list.
The city’s computer had a map of the city, but it was more like a schematic without the details. Sara was using it as her base, then adding information to it as she found it. Someone else had done the zones and numbered the buildings.
Sometimes adding info was a no-brainer. She could tell what it was, though she didn’t always know what it did. Other times there seemed to be no way for Ruby to connect the dots for her.
Some rooms made her head ache, though not as bad as it had in the command center, as more of the yellow beads of light paid a visit to her brain-housing group.
Sara sensed that these were attempts to teach her. Unfortunately they’d picked a poor student. Smith would have lapped it up.
Today’s building had the look of a bunker about it. It was a rare, single story structure, square and unadorned, as it squatted among its much finer looking neighbors.
Sara almost felt sorry for it. The entrance, a plain, solid looking door, faced the sea and Sara spent a few minutes gazing out over the water, as white topped waves rolled gently ashore. As always, when she quieted her mind, images of people began to move around her. Some walked slowly, stopping like her to look out on the sea. Others strode quickly, importantly. They had no time for pretty views.
This time Sara didn’t try to see them or hear them, just let them move around her. Their clothes suited the scene. Bright colors in sweeping styles that made the women look graceful. The men’s clothes were sturdier and more muted, but also looked comfortable and functional.
Sara had the odd feeling that something was missing from the scene, but it took her a few minutes to figure out what it was.
No children.
How could there not by any children?
When guys and gals got together, children happened.
If they didn’t happen, your civilization eventually…disappeared—which is what happened to the Garradians. Only they seemed to have left en masse, which refuted the theory. It was yet another reminder that Sara wasn’t a geek.
Still, Sara had the feeling she was on the edge of understanding at least part of the mystery of the Garradians, but the edge wasn’t all the way there. It was…the edge. It didn’t clear up the mystery of Miri and her two suitors. It didn’t explain Sara’s likeness to her. It didn’t explain why Ruby thought she had the key.
Sara shifted restlessly and the people vanished into the past again, taking all their secrets with them.
With a sigh, Sara turned back to the building. As she approached the entrance, the door slid back for her. She pulled off her shades and tucked them in a pocket of her vest, then stepped inside. As always, the lights came on. The foyer was different from anything she’d encountered so far. It was as plain as the outside, with just a sort of station by another door. There wasn’t even a place to sit down. No pretty pictures. Maybe it was the local jail.
“Okay.” Sara walked up to the next door. This one didn’t open. That was interesting. She looked at the station. There was a chair and what could have been a console. Sara went behind it and sat in the chair, then hesitantly put her hands on the screen.
At first nothing happened. Sara almost broke the contact, but then the gold beads appeared, but instead of going in her, they…traced her hands, then flowed up, outlining her body. An image shot out of the front of the station.
It was her…but not her. It had to be Miri.
There was a beep, followed by a buzz and the door slid open. The image of Miri vanished.
It had to be some kind of security protocol, but not a great one, if it let her through. Sara got up and walked through the door. It closed si
lently behind her. Not even a hiss.
More lights came on. The hallway was narrow and Sara could see several doors evenly spaced along its length. She approached the first one. Again, the door didn’t open. But there was a small, square panel about chest height and the size of a hand.
Sara put her hand on it. It flashed and the door opened. Sara peered in, not sure she should be poking her nose into something with this level of protection.
It looked like a laboratory. There were tubes and containers and the inevitable console. On one wall was a screen with symbols at random intervals, almost like a blackboard.
Okay, not a prison.
Sara edged close to one of the containers and crouched down, peering inside, but all she saw was a yellow fluid. Sara moved around the room, pausing to look, but never to touch. She’d seen what happened to people who touched things on the Sci-Fi Channel. It wasn’t pretty.
Near the back of the room there was a large, microscope looking thing, only it had eyepieces like a pair of binoculars. Sara pulled out a wipe packet, tore it open and washed the eyepieces, then dried them her sleeve. Only then did she bend to look.
All she saw was a confused blur. She leaned back and figured out how to adjust it, then applied her eyes again. After a moment, the view sharpened.
At first she couldn’t tell what she was looking at. She worked the dials some more and it got bigger.
Okay, that looked like a computer chip.
She straightened. She walked around to where the slide should be. The other end of the microscope was pretty dang big. Sara didn’t have a clue what the magnification level would be, but it had to be intense.
She bent down and found the slide and removed it, but all she could see was a yellow smear. It looked like the guck in the beakers.
She stuck it back in and took another look. The level of detail was amazing and it was definitely some kind of computer.
Could it be nanites or nanobots?
She rubbed the palm of her hand. Was that what had gone into her hand? Was that what left her when the Doolittle was under attack? Was that the answer to the riddle of her connection with computers? It could even explain her ability to heal. She did know the medical community had been trying to develop something like this to cure disease…and stuff.
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