‘What the hell,’ he uttered as he picked up the jug.
Nathan yanked open the converter panel on the wall and exposed a series of circuits and power cables. He threw the entire contents of the jug across the interior of the panel and then jumped back as a series of sparks crackled outward and a puff of acrid blue smoke billowed up toward the ceiling. An alarm claxon screeched across the ward as Nathan stepped back from the fizzing circuits.
The blue shield around Foxx’s body flickered out even as Nathan heard a loud crack from behind him. He turned to see the guards ramming something into the door jam, prizing it open with brute force as the other guard aimed his plasma pistol at the door handle.
The guard fired, and molten plasma smashed into the handle and began to melt the metal.
‘There’s no quarantine!’ Nathan yelled. ‘You open that door, you get plague!’
The security guards hesitated and then they vanished for a moment. Nathan thought that he’d gotten the better of them, until they returned a moment later wearing masks.
Nathan turned back to Foxx, and then rested one hand against her cheek, her skin hot to the touch.
‘I hope this works,’ he whispered.
The guard’s plasma pistol fired again and the door burst open. Nathan pressed the vial against Foxx’s arm and activated the transfer system, and immediately the vaccine emptied from the vial into her body.
‘You’re under arrest!’
The guards plowed into Nathan and hurled him from the room. He hit the tiled floor hard as they landed on top of him and forced his arms behind his back.
Outside, he could hear the sounds of triumph as Admiral Marshall was paraded through the city streets and the population cheered in adulation.
***
XLIX
CSS Headquarters,
Franklyn Ceyron stood at the head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the CSS Headquarters personnel, the Senate arrayed behind them as Admiral Marshall’s vehicle landed gently outside the building’s main entrance. A wave of cheers crashed across the crowds lining the streets beyond the security fences as Marshall disembarked and waved before climbing the steps to the entrance.
‘You appear to have perfected the art of arriving in style,’ Ceyron said with a broad smile as he shook the admiral’s hand.
‘I’ve put a brave face on all of this adulation long enough, director,’ Marshall replied, clearly uncomfortable. ‘Get me inside before I curl up and die.’
Ceyron smiled and with a wave to the crowds he guided Marshall inside the building as a phalanx of armed guards fell into place around them, the CSS staff following behind. The Senate filed into the building behind them, uncertain expressions on their faces.
‘We rather thought that you would appreciate the public’s support for your heroism of yesterday,’ Ceyron said as they walked toward the elevators.
‘My entire crew were heroic,’ Marshall replied. ‘Right now I’m more concerned with acting fast regarding the people still trapped aboard New Washington and the other orbital cities. How fast is the plague spreading?’
‘Too fast,’ Ceyron replied as they boarded an elevator and travelled up to the massive Senate Hall. ‘New Washington is already overwhelmed and in a state of collapse with all hospitals full and emergency services unable to contain the outbreak of new cases. Right now all we can do is maintain the quarantine and pray for a miracle.’
‘Miracles are for fantasies,’ Marshall replied as they walked into the Senate hall and the JCOS team took their seats. ‘We need a solution and we need to get to Aleeya to find it.’
Ceyron frowned as they sat down, intercepting several concerned glances from senators as they filed into the building. ‘What are you suggesting?’
Admiral Marshall said nothing until the entire senate had assembled in the vast amphitheatre, their coalesced voices humming with intrigue, and then he stood up and directed his steely gaze across the hall. He had no time for the niceties of formal openings, and merely wished to get to the point.
‘The Aleeyans brought this plague to us,’ he said, his voice carrying clearly across the senate, ‘and have condemned millions of people to die. They see it as revenge for our casting them out into the cosmos, even though it was they who chose to leave so long ago. Now, they seek to destroy us and return home. How many times have we been forced to repel Aleeyan fleets hell-bent on murdering humanity? At what cost in lives to those who serve the CSS?’
Marshall looked around at the senate before he went on, saw the concerned expressions and the fear within them.
‘We have been patient. We have tried to understand. We have sought the moral high ground by merely protecting our borders and respecting the right to life of the Aleeyans.’
Marshall’s fist slammed down into the open palm of one hand.
‘No more,’ he growled. ‘I don’t see yesterday’s battle as a victory. I see it as the first step in a campaign to eradicate the Aleeyans for once and for all.’
A senator in the lower seats stared at the admiral for a long moment. ‘You’re advocating open war?’
Marshall nodded once.
‘I want the senate to declare war on Ayleea, and permit me to deploy the fleet in pursuit of every last one of those murdering bastards.’
Ceyron’s features slipped, aghast as he stood from his seat. ‘That’s a declaration of war that’s tantamount to genocide!’
‘It’s vengeance!’ Marshall snapped back. ‘It’s defense! It’s the right to strike back after being attacked, unprovoked I might remind you all, by an enemy that has repeatedly insisted that it will never cease in its mission to erase humanity from history! And how much less an act of genocide is the releasing of a plague among our own people?’
Marshall scoured the senate with his glare, daring any one of them to oppose him. As he stood with his back to the towering windows, the mighty hull of Titan hovered over the city below, her flanks bristling with weapons.
‘The senate will never countenance open war,’ another senator said. ‘It’s against everything that our people chose to stand for and against centuries ago.’
‘And look where it’s got us!’ Marshall replied. ‘Millions may die from a plague that we cannot cure! Maybe all of us! You say that we cannot act in aggression against the Aleeyans, because they’re us, because they still harbor some meagre element of humanity in their warped and deranged DNA. But sitting here and doing nothing achieves nothing because they don’t feel the same way about us. Every time we fail to take the initiative against them we lose more lives years later when they return with new fleets and new schemes and new determination to destroy us all! When the hell is the senate going to learn that they do not want peace?! They want domination!’
The senate fell silent as Marshall glowered at them, his fists clenched, his eyes blazing and the veins on his neck pulsing in rhythm to the rage flowing through his heart.
Director General Ceyron sat in silence for a long moment, seeking a way out of the unexpected predicament.
‘I brought you here to commend you for a victory,’ he said finally. ‘And now you want to murder an entire species.’
Marshall shook his head.
‘I do not want to, director. I have been forced to. And I don’t want to be standing here in ten years’ time having to deal with another attack. I don’t want somebody else to have to deal with another attack like yesterday’s. We must act now, and there is another valid reason for doing so, one which I don’t believe has been considered by the Senate in the wake of this outbreak.’
‘Which is?’ a councillor asked.
Marshall took a deep breath.
‘The Aleeyans engineered this virus, this plague,’ he said. ‘It stands to reason, given the virulence of these plagues and their shared ancestry with us, that they too might become vulnerable to infection if this plague is able to mutate as fast as the last one.’
Ceyron leaned forward. ‘What are you saying, admiral?’
�
�I’m saying that it’s my opinion that the Aleeyans, having created this new plague, might well have likewise created the cure to it.’
A ripple of murmurs fluttered across the senate. Ceyron sat back in his seat and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully as he glanced at the JCOS.
‘Do you concur with the admiral?’
One by one, the senior military officers nodded. ‘It would stand to reason,’ said the chief of the Marines. ‘You don’t create a plague that could also take your own forces and population down. If they have a cure it will be on Ayleea, and that will require CSS boots on the ground to locate and obtain it. Nothing short of a full-scale invasion will achieve that.’
Ceyron looked at the senate. For several long moments he watched them expectantly for any sign of protest, but none was forthcoming. Though he could detect their discomfort easily, he could also sense their lack of an alternative option through their absolute silence. He glanced out of the vast windows at the immense crowds only slowly starting to disperse outside and he realized that Marshall had achieved an objective that would have been unthinkable even weeks ago: a bloodless military coup, a warship over New York City, a senate willing to support open war and a public that would likely cheer them every step of the way and would publicly abhor any politician or senator who opposed military action.
Slowly, Ceyron hung his head as he replied.
‘You may deploy the fleet as you see fit, Admiral.’
Marshall clenched his fist against his chest and whirled for the exit without another word. He reached the doors, which shimmered out of existence to reveal two police detectives standing side by side and blocking the admiral’s path.
‘Admiral Marshall,’ one of them said, ‘you’re under arrest for treason, conspiracy, accessory to homicide, attempted homicide and attempted genocide.’
The entire senate stood up in shock as the hall filled with gasps of amazement. Marshall stared down at Detective Vasquez with a barely contained fury.
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ he demanded. ‘Get out of my way!’
Marshall made to move forward and Vasquez swung a straight punch that landed right between the admiral’s eyes and sent him sprawling onto the floor.
Ceyron burst from his seat in amazement and horror. ‘What the hell is going on here?!’
Vasquez leaped forward and pinned Marshall in place, locking binders around his wrists as Detective Allen stepped forward and raised his badge so that everybody could see it.
‘Detectives Allen and Vasquez, New Washington Police Department. This is a homicide inquiry and Admiral Marshall is the prime suspect.’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ Ceyron gasped. ‘This man is a global hero!’
‘He’s a coward and a liar!’ Vasquez shot back as he hauled Marshall to his feet. ‘He fabricated the Aleeyan involvement in the distribution of a street drug named Shiver, which contained a new strain of plague. That’s how the disease spread through the population of the orbital cities.’
‘Just in time for the Aleeyans to come into town to protest their innocence,’ Allen added, ‘afraid that their supposed creation of the new plague would result in an open invasion of their home world by the CSS Fleet, something Marshall here has wanted for a long time.’
Ceyron struggled to understand what he was being told. ‘But how can you possibly know all of this?’
Vasquez grinned.
‘Because you don’t have a cure for a disease before the disease has even struck, unless you knew it was coming.’
‘We found a stockpile of drugs used to treat the new plague, stored down in Denver under lock and key,’ Allen explained. ‘That was the result of an investigation by Detective Kaylin Foxx, who right now is in hospital suffering from the plague that Admiral Marshall created to destroy what he called “the unwashed masses”.’
Ceyron stared at Marshall uncertainly.
‘But if that’s so, then why hasn’t she been cured?’ he asked.
‘She has,’ came the reply from outside the senate hall.
Dozens of heads turned to see a weak-looking Kaylin Foxx being helped into the building by Nathan Ironside, flanked by two security guards. Ceyron stared in amazement as Foxx limped into the hall and looked up at the senate.
‘An hour ago I was in a coma with plague,’ she said. ‘It’s already in remission, thanks to Nathan Ironside here and the work of my detectives and the entire New Washington Police Department. The cure is already being transported to New Washington for distribution and replication for the other cities.’ She turned to Ceyron. ‘You don’t need a war, director, because the battle’s over, and Admiral Marshall has been defeated.’ Foxx took a breath, and smiled briefly at Nathan and her colleagues before she went on. ‘We can do this here in private, or out on the streets in front of the media, director. Place the admiral under arrest or so help me, sick or not, I’ll damned well do it myself.’
***
L
Fourth Precinct,
New Washington
Kaylin Foxx strode into the interview room of the police department and waited for the security door to rematerialize behind her, a red rim around the opaque hard-light door signifying the extra security applied to it.
Before her, manacled to the table, sat Admiral Marshall. The fleet officer glared up at her but said nothing as she sat down opposite him and leaned back. Although she was fatigued beyond belief and had barely lost the fever that had wracked her body for so long, she had insisted that she be able to conduct the first interview with the man who had sought to murder three quarters of the human population.
Beside Marshall sat a gray-haired lawyer with a thin face and a hooked nose, whose beady eyes reminded Foxx of a bird of prey.
Because of the high security around the arrest of Admiral Marshall the day before, the arrest itself was not yet public knowledge. The CSS felt that until Marshall was proven guilty there could be no effective trial because of the uproar that would undoubtedly arise both among the public and the media. The only safe way to contain the scandal was for the CSS to insist that the admiral was tied up with planning a strategic defense of the Earth against any future forays by the Aleeyans, thus giving the police free reign to question him at length.
‘I’m not sure I even know where to begin,’ Foxx said.
Marshall’s glare was unrepentant, angry.
‘You could start by getting me out of this damned police station.’
‘Not going to happen, admiral. You do realize that you’ve been cornered and that we have an almost overwhelming case against you?’
‘There is no case,’ the lawyer snarled. ‘Anything you’ve found has been planted.’
‘Never the best defense,’ Foxx replied without hesitation. ‘You’ve been arrested because of your own actions. You have repeatedly tried to block an investigation that would have found you the main suspect had it been allowed to continue, and that obstruction almost cost two officers their lives, not to mention Nathan Ironside his.’
‘Ironside is probably behind all of this. He’s a damned freak of nature!’
‘If so, then he’s my kind of freak because he’s saved my life from plague, not to mention countless thousands aboard New Washington and the other orbital cities. You do know that the cure works, right? That your plan failed?’
‘Admiral Marshall has no plan other than to clear his name and return to duty,’ snapped the lawyer.
Foxx smiled without warmth.
‘You’ll never be returning to duty, Marshall. The only service you’ll be doing is time in the Seven Circles of Hell, if you’re lucky.’
‘I want to know everything that you claim puts me in the picture for this. I am not a criminal!’ Marshall snapped, his stoic resilience slipping only when Foxx had mentioned that he wouldn’t be returning to active duty. Whatever insane machinations this man had managed to conjure, Fox realized that his sense of duty remained – or was it instead merely an addiction to the fame of valor in battle, that Marshall
had simply become a slave to his own prowess?
‘You wouldn’t be sitting here if you weren’t a criminal,’ Foxx pointed out to him. ‘Let me lay this all out for you, Marshall, just so we’re clear. A few days ago, Nathaniel Ironside, a man who had been locked inside a cryogenic storage capsule for four hundred years, was revived by Doctor Hans Schmidt, a senior holosap surgeon who is himself a couple of hundred years old now. You’ve never hidden your distaste for these kinds of people, freaks of nature I believe you just referred to them as…’
‘He doesn’t like them,’ the laywer snapped. ‘That doesn’t mean he tries to kill them!’
‘We’ll get to the killing part in a moment,’ Foxx said. ‘As it turns out, you’ve been planning this whole circus for a long time. Your experiences in battle against the Aleeyans perhaps, or your distaste for the social decline of the orbital cities has left you embittered and believing that mankind will not survive against the Aleeyans, that sooner or later they will strike effectively enough or with sufficient force to defeat humanity and occupy our planet.’
Marshall nodded shamelessly, with conviction.
‘That’s correct, except the planning part. My mission has always been to protect earth, at any cost.’
‘At any cost?’ Foxx exhoed.
‘At any cost to himself,’ the lawyer growled, a hint of smug satisfaction glittering in his eyes. ‘Don’t put words in my client’s mouth, detective.’
‘You knew about Nathan Ironside,’ Foxx accused, ‘knew that he was incarcerated in that capsule and that he was being used as a test-tube by a company called Chmitech in order to manufacture a new plague, and the new cure that went with it.’
‘I’d never heard of Nathan Ironside until he turned up on my ship.’
‘That doesn’t figure with what we’ve got here,’ Foxx said. ‘Investigations by my detectives in the field uncovered a drug smuggling ring connected to Aleeyan sympathisers within the orbital cities populations. That in turn connected to a series of attacks on Nathan Ironside after he was revived by Doctor Schimdt, whose assistant Jean Alliso turned out to be one of the Aleeyan sympathizers.’
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