Sentient

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Sentient Page 8

by Wendy L. Koenig


  Squaring her shoulders, Pala pivoted and returned to the other two bodies. She loaded them on top of Cabot's. On one last trip, she loaded up the sphere. There should be a programmer’s signature in there somewhere.

  Flying north, she located the body of that carnivore and added it to the shuttle, too. Then she turned around and flew back to camp.

  CHAPTER

  18

  Throughout the rest of the day and into the evening, ships settled gracefully to the ground to unload their injured and dead. Trudging cadets and scientists followed lights strung in a line from the designated landing area around the body prepping station to the hospital area.

  One of Quade’s assigned cooks brought a cup of steaming coffee to the table where Pala now sat. She again looked to where her StarGazer usually rested. It surprised her how much she missed The Hawk. That ship somehow gave her an identity that her role of Cadet Marshal didn’t. At the helm, she felt she could handle anything.

  As more ships arrived, they'd need close access to the temporary field hospital and the body processing area. The Hawk would have to move to a distant unoccupied piece of land. More distant than her prestige warranted, though Pala didn’t mind. She didn’t stand much on pomp and ceremony, and she didn’t like many people who did. When she picked her rangers, that was one of her weeding qualifications. She'd overlooked that in Cabot as a boyfriend, and look where that had gotten her.

  Pala sighed and stood up, still sipping her cup of coffee. She’d been helping Denten, who’d been told to rest but refused. It was time she returned to her role as his nurse. Bardef, she’d left strict orders to leave alone with his project of the plants and the animal she’d brought back. She’d even assigned him an assistant.

  Khamasa’s Decider and The Hawk appeared above the tops of the trees and landed gently on the fringes of the clearing. Three people from Base Five, disembarked from the Decider. They were the only survivors from that entire unit of fifty-three rangers and five scientists.

  The base camp fell silent, like the forest that surrounded them. At that moment, anyone who could stand, did. As one, everyone in the base moved back, making way for the three survivors. Someone started clapping, and soon waves of applause filled the air. Some soldiers cried, leaning against each other. The last ship was in. Those present were all that was left of the original 465.

  Pala waited a few minutes, and then she climbed up on a table. Grim, exhausted faces stared up at her, cadets and adults. Tears filled their eyes, as did hers. The group hushed. Quade put his visor on to relay her message to the rangers on guard duty and at the body processing area.

  She didn't try to hide the tears that threatened to slide down her cheeks as she spoke. “We have lost friends. We have lost comrades. We have lost relatives. And we have lost –” Her voice broke with a hard edge of anger. She swept her gaze across the crowd. Stastny stood in the back, his eyes wet with tears over his nephew. Pala pushed out the sentence with the force behind her lungs learned from yelling at recruits. “We’ve lost those even closer. Grief has many personalities. Some of you will cry. Some will need to talk. Some of you will only want silence. There will be anger and feelings of betrayal. These are all natural and part of the healing process. Just don’t ignore your grief.”

  Pausing, Pala scanned the faces within the group to make sure they understood. She cleared her throat, shoving away her own anger. Now was not the time. “Those of you with faith, take time now in prayer. Those who have no religious leanings, take a moment to remember and honor our fallen.” She bowed her head. Murmurs of prayers underscored the sobs that broke out.

  Pala had never been a person of faith. Principle, honor, pride, yes. But not faith. Still, she prayed aloud, leading those left alive. “God, grant these men’s souls safe passage to their homes on Earth. Let them see their families one last time, before they join you in your heaven. Those who don’t believe, please grant them safe passage as well. They served all humankind and seek only to return home. Amen.”

  She lifted her head and waited. Glancing over at Quade, she could see he was talking to someone in his visor. She reached to put on her visor, but he gently shook his head, dealing with whatever it was. He had so completely taken on the role Cabot had held that it felt as if Cabot was still here. Her heart heaved within her and she squeezed her eyes shut tight, hanging her head, fighting to strangle the falling tears.

  After a pause, while the survivors waited, some still quietly weeping, she rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes, and lifted her head again. “We have suffered a terrible tragedy here today. And it has been at the hands of our brothers. Some of you have betrayed us. I already know a few names. I will learn others.” She nodded at Quade. He spoke quietly to the men around him and the rangers moved to flank Stastny and Harlen in an arrest.

  She waited until the group left and the commotion settled. Then she scanned the shocked faces in front of her. “We’ll continue rotating shifts in the designated hospital location and in the body processing area until that is finished. We will also have random guard patrols on six-hour rotating shifts, but I believe the attacks are over. Stay alert and safe. Any information would be appreciated.”

  Pala stepped down from the table. She saw Physe head off Roccio and point to her. Roccio glanced her direction, calculating and grim. He should be, thought Pala. He scuffed his feet as he walked across the clearing. She shook her head. If she’d seen that bit of attitude before, she’d never have taken him on, no matter how short-handed her unit had been.

  She motioned for him to sit down at the kitchen table, and he sat, slumped over. It wasn’t hard for her to imagine his thoughts. He knew what was coming. “Roccio, when I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed. To the letter. It’s not a request, not an option you can avoid. My word is law.” She paused, watching him. His face grew more sullen by the second. “I gave the order for radio sil—”

  Jumping up, his face twisted with rage and guilt, he spoke in a strangled voice. “This is because of Cabot getting killed, isn’t it? I just knew you’d make me a scapegoat.” He didn’t walk away, like she thought he might. Instead, he stood still, clenching and unclenching his hands, staring everywhere but at her. His eyes were red-rimmed and glassy.

  For a second, Pala was confused. Cabot? What did he have to do with this? Then it dawned on her about the coincidence in timing. Had he been punishing himself, thinking Cabot’s death was his fault? “No. Look at me.” She waited until his gaze met and held hers.

  “There’s nothing you could have done or not done that would have made any difference. Those spheres keyed on the transmitter chips, not on our voices. None of us could have stopped what happened. None of us. Cadet Marshal Isberg didn’t die because of you.”

  His tears refused to be blinked back, and he squirmed, trying to rub them off onto his shoulders. Pala looked away, giving him time to compose himself. When she turned her attention to him again, tiny rivulets of tears still snaked out of his eyes, but they’d lessened and the black sullen scowl had lightened.

  She shook her head at him. “What you did had no bearing on Cabot’s death. On anyone’s death. But it could have in another time and place or from another threat. I’m bouncing you from my unit. Do you understand why?”

  He nodded his head. “Yes ma’am. Because I disobeyed a direct order.”

  “I have to know I can count on each one of my cadets to do exactly what I say. Report to Captain Justiss.”

  He hesitated, and then asked, “Will there ever be a chance you’ll take me back?”

  “No. Not in my unit. And it’s going to be hard to find you a good fit. I’ll do my best for you, but no promises.”

  He set his jaw and turned away, scuffing his way across the clearing. She sighed. What had she been thinking when she took him on? She should have trusted her instincts and gone on the mission shorthanded. Instead, she’d trusted Cabot.

  She pulled her visor back on. “Quade.”

  His face was pale a
nd his blue eyes were tired when they filled her screen. “I’m sending Roccio to you. Put him to work with one of the rangers who doubled as ministers. Warn them to keep an eye on him. He’s had a rough day. Start organizing breaks for people to sleep. That means you, too.” Quade nodded, and then disappeared from her screen as he turned to yell at one of the cadet rangers.

  She headed for her tent. She needed sleep. Badly. Had it only been a little over two days since the attack? Somehow it seemed a lifetime ago.

  CHAPTER

  19

  Even though exhausted, it took Pala a long time to fall asleep. Memories of Cabot alive and laughing filled her thoughts. After tossing and turning, she finally dozed off, where dreams of still loving him morphed into nightmares that echoed the reality of what had happened. After jerking awake several times, disoriented and upset, she bolted to her feet and got dressed. She could be doing something productive.

  Outside, the lights over most of the clearing had been turned off, leaving only one or two over the field hospital. Even though it was the early hours long before dawn, the body prep area was still burning brightly. They’d be going strong for at least a couple more days. Pala pivoted away from the lights, wandering to put trees between them and her. At last, the fringes of the forest blocked the glow and she looked up into the night. The bright streaks of pink, green, purple, and orange of an aurora twisted acrss the black, void of space, shimmering as if alive. Taking a deep breath, the air had a fresh, clean wet earth smell to it.

  Quade’s voice came up from behind her. “Beautiful.”

  She turned, but didn’t startle. “Yes, it is.”

  He came up beside her, becoming more than just a disembodied voice in the black of night. Looking down in her face, his dark-rimmed eyes searched hers. Her five foot seven inch frame next to his bulk reminded her of Physe and Stastny the day before. Suddenly, she felt small and vulnerable.

  Quade said, “I heard you walk past my tent.”

  Pala shrugged. “Too keyed up or something.”

  “Somethin’.” His voice was soft.

  She frowned and turned away again. “When I sleep, I have nightmares. Then I wake up and find out it's not just a dream.”

  He sighed beside her. “All day I’ve turned around expecting to see him. Sometimes, I catch myself startin’ to look for him.” He reached over and put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned against his chest. They stood like that for a long time, watching the sky, Pala taking comfort in a trusted friend. She yawned and he laughed, a gruff rumble in his chest. “Now you get sleepy.”

  “Mmm-hmm. It’s nice to feel a warm body next to mine. I’ll have to get a puppy when we get back to Earth, just to keep me company.”

  He laughed again. “A puppy?”

  “Someone to talk to.”

  “I talk.”

  A laugh started within her, but died in her throat. She spoke dully. “Quade, my boyfriend wanted me dead.”

  “He wanted us all dead. Come on, I’ll buy you breakfast.”

  "It's free."

  "You think I can afford anything that isn't?"

  She tried to smile and nodded, following him to the kitchen tent. Quade pointed at the table closest to the entrance. “Sit and I’ll cook.”

  Pala plopped down on a bench and laid her head on the table while he disappeared inside the tent. From her vantage, she had a good view of the myriad exam tables and formed tents. A few tents were wide open and empty. More fatalities from the attack? Stastny and his friends would be held accountable yet. She just needed a little more information. Her eyelids fluttered, weighted and grainy. Her thoughts drifted to a night shortly after graduation from Tech School. It was before she and Cabot had started dating and Quade had asked her to join them for a drink.

  The three of them had been sitting at a small corner table in Jupiter’s Promise on Portal Station Three. The bar had no age restrictions and was dense with smoke, fake and real. Members from all IPC races, traveling to or from Earth, were there, from waddling Bragnons, to the menacing Dazigs that growled at anyone who got near. She remembered seeing several Quan speaking cautiously in another corner, and a single silver Idyan waiting impatiently at the bar. Stick-limbed Lezpads packed every available space in between.

  The place was a dive, but they were all fond of it. It gave Pala a sense of anonymity, and Quade liked the rockabilly music the owner played when real cash found its way into his pocket. Cabot reveled in the dirty, underhanded atmosphere. He had said, “It’s amazing how much easier it is to separate right from wrong while seated in a bar like this.”

  Quade had rolled his eyes at Pala. “Here it comes.”

  Pala had chuckled and taken another sip from her mug of rootbeer. The bubbles from the Earth drink bit at her mouth. That might be the last bit of Earth she’d taste for awhile. Having completed the two years of training, the three of them would be sent out on assignment, Cabot in command. They had no idea where, but who knew how long it would be until they came that way again?

  Cabot had flicked his gaze toward Quade, but then swung his arm wide at the rest of the room. “I’m serious. Look around. These are the people we’re trained to protect. Do you think they want to know us? Or care how we make them safe?”

  In tired litany, Pala and Quade joined in with Cabot’s next words. “Why would they?”

  Cabot continued, as if unaware of the jest made on his behalf. He focused on the chipped pitcher of dark rootbeer in the center of the table. “And yet, we still protect them. We need to step up our military budget, develop new weapons to protect the IPC worlds in the event of an attack from an invading force. Yes, they’d send some scout ships first, but would we even see them? Our first warning system is a joke: sketchy in some areas, and not even working in others. We need something to protect us, in place, right now.”

  Quade shook his head. “And you need a new tune, buddy.” Lifting his full mug, he downed it in one smooth swallow. He reached for the pitcher and poured them all a refill.

  “Maybe. But maybe you both should start listening. I’ve got interested friends in high places. And if anything ever goes down, you two don’t want to get caught on the wrong side.”

  Quade drained his glass and glanced at Pala. “I’ll be back.”

  She had nodded and watched as he wove through the crowd in the direction of the toilets. Cabot stared at her with a gentle smile. His eyes sparkled. A sexual energy seemed to pulse under the surface of his skin and Pala found her body flushing in response. She remembered wanting to search out Quade and get them out of there when Cabot leaned across the table. He motioned for her to do the same. His cologne swam circles in her head. His breath was hot against her cheek. “What are you doing with that white boy when you could be with me?”

  Startled, Pala looked up as Quade plunked a steaming plate of jumbled foods in front of her, and sat down opposite her with his. “Leftovers.”

  Chewing seemed to be hard work for her; the energy just didn’t flow well to her jaw. The food didn’t taste right. Either it was too bland, or her taste buds were too dull from lack of sleep. Pala paused in the struggle of eating to ask, “Was Cabot always so bigoted? I have a hard time believing he could have something to do with what happened here, yet evidence points that way.”

  Quade’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth. He slowly nodded. “Yeah. He was always that way. And yeah, the way he talked about Earth and protecting it, I wouldn’t be surprised if somethin’ tied in to him. What I don't get is why all our non-Terrans were pulled before this mission started.”

  More to think about. She’d have to pay a visit to Stastny in his holding cell. Denten approached from the tents, drawing her attention. “Your shift?”

  He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a minute later with coffee. Ignoring Quade completely, he leaned in closely, “We’re going to run low on medical supplies, so I was rooting around our science station a little last night, looking for alternative drugs. I bumped into a fe
w vials of something interesting in Makel’s kit. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s something I’ve never seen before. It was in with the dilutants he uses. He's still not talking, but I’ll run some tests on it real quick, and then put it to work.” Pala nodded, and with a determined stride, he headed toward the science station.

  She watched him go and then turned to see Quade scrutinizing her. “What?”

  He shook his head, a sad grin on his face as he stared off at the StarGazers. “We’re still tryin’ to get an answer from Riyst on the Sultesque. I don’t put much hope in it, givin’ he’s Cabot’s buddy an’ all. That’s what that call was about during your speech earlier. Just FYI stuff, ya know.”

  “Don’t avoid me. Why did you look at me like that?”

  He motioned casually toward the distant form of Denten. “He digs you.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “I’m not interested. He's too old.” She shook her head, her dark braids nudging her shoulder.

  He hesitated, but then continued, “I know you were with Cabot for over a year, and when things started coming apart, it wore a huge hole into you. I know it's still eatin' at you while you deal with this mess. Sometimes it helps to have someone to hang onto. If it ain’t me, then maybe you should consider someone else.” He jutted his chin in the direction Denten went.

  The silence stretched between them. Pala sat in stunned silence. Finally she stood. Keeping her voice low, she said, “It’s none of your concern.” She pivoted and walked away.

  Quade softly called after her, “That's where you’re wrong.”

  Pala hung her head, staring down at the ground as she walked. This time he was wrong. Dead wrong. She wasn’t the type who needed a relationship to make herself feel whole. He was right, though, about that hole inside of her. With each step into the discovery of Cabot’s treachery, the gulf grew bigger. She had to find a safe outlet while she went about the business of saving lives or that hole just might eat her up.

 

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