The Lost Stars: Perilous Shield tls-2

by Jack Campbell

  “That’s all?” Malin asked. “The DNA doesn’t match?”

  “That’s enough,” Morgan snarled. “You’re a phony, someone else claiming to be Bran Malin.”

  Drakon held out his hand. “Give me the coin. Morgan, if you’ve manufactured false evidence—”

  “You can get another DNA sample from him right now, General, and check it against the official record.”

  Taking the coin that Morgan smugly offered, Drakon looked at Malin. “Bran? Do you have anything to say?”

  “Yes, sir. I will answer every question to your satisfaction, but”—he gestured toward Morgan—“I request in the strongest terms that Colonel Morgan not be here when I do.”

  “Why?”

  “You will understand once I have answered your questions, sir.”

  Morgan spoke up again, shooting her words at Malin. “You have no right to demand any terms, Colonel Malin, or whoever the hell you are.”

  “Quiet.” Drakon stood looking at the two colonels in the total silence that fell after his single word of command. He studied Morgan and Malin, recalling what he had asked of each of them in the past, remembering what they had done for him. What did he owe each of them now? “Colonel Morgan, if your information is on this data coin, then you need not be present when I look at it. Therefore, I will grant Colonel Malin’s request. If I am not fully satisfied with his answers, I will be able to bring you in afterward.”

  Morgan scowled, but bit off whatever she had been planning to say, and instead turned her gaze on Malin. “You can’t lie your way out of this one. You wouldn’t have had to if you’d had the guts to kill me before I told the General, but you’ve always been a worm. I know General Drakon can handle you if you try anything, and I know what he’ll do to you once he sees that evidence. Have a nice trip to hell.”

  Malin looked steadily back at Morgan. “I’ll keep a place there free for you. A nice warm spot.”

  Drakon held out his hand again. “Your sidearm, Colonel Malin.”

  Shifting his grip on the weapon slowly so that he could no longer fire it, Malin offered the sidearm to Drakon.

  Drakon placed Malin’s sidearm on the desk, close at hand. “You may go, Colonel Morgan. Since Colonel Malin desires privacy, please return to your quarters while I speak with him.”

  Morgan bared her teeth in a vicious grin and saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  She left, deliberately turning her back on Malin and walking slowly as if flaunting her vulnerability to him during those moments.

  The door sealed again. Malin waited, watching the security lights above the door shift from red to green to indicate that no surveillance devices could penetrate the room, then he faced General Drakon. “You should look at what Colonel Morgan gave you, sir.”

  Drakon pointed to a chair before his desk. “Sit down.” He wasn’t being courteous with the command, and Malin knew it. Sitting down would handicap Malin if he tried to attack Drakon or flee, that chair was the focus of more than one concealed weapon, and the chair contained a variety of sensors for determining whether someone was lying or telling the truth as they knew it.

  As Malin took his seat, Drakon fed the data coin into his desk unit. Twin images of standardized DNA profiles appeared, one from Colonel Bran Malin’s service record and the other from what was identified as a sample from the Bran Malin sitting before Drakon.

  A segment of the DNA profiles was highlighted in red. Negative match. “You said you’d answer my questions,” Drakon began. “Do you know what this shows?”

  “Yes, sir,” Malin said.

  Drakon frowned at Malin, wondering why Malin sounded relieved. “And that is?”

  “The mitochondrial DNA does not match.”

  Drakon flicked a glance at his screen. “That’s right.”

  “The DNA sample in my official record was falsified.” Malin slowly held up one arm, moving with care to avoid any appearance of threatening Drakon. “The DNA on my embedded personal data chip is accurate. Any variation there from my actual DNA would have been spotted long ago.”

  “You falsified your DNA in your official record? Why?”

  Malin sighed, looking unhappy. “I had to. Otherwise, a connection might have been spotted during routine genetic screening using official records.”

  “A connection? To what?” Had Malin been a spy for the Alliance all this time? Or somehow linked to the enigmas? Or, impossible as it seemed, the snakes?

  “Mitochondrial DNA, General,” Malin said. “It identifies the mother of any individual.”

  “You wanted to hide who your mother was?” Drakon shook his head, baffled. “Your mother was a Syndicate medical executive. Even the snakes never claimed there was anything in her record that would bring suspicion on her. She died, what, eight years ago?”

  “Yes, sir,” Malin said, his voice growing thin with stress. “Medical Executive Flora Malin died eight years ago, of complications from exposure during Syndicate research assignments. She gave birth to me. She raised me. But she was not my biological mother.”

  “Hell, lots of people have tangled family histories. There was a war on for a century! Why hide who your biological mother was? Was she a snake?”

  “No, sir.” Malin pointed to Drakon’s display. “Run a comparison check on the actual sample, General, the one Colonel Morgan pulled from me. You will find a match for the mitochondrial DNA.”

  “Your biological mother is on this planet?”

  “You can limit the search to headquarters personnel, General.” Malin looked as if his face had drained of blood now, but his voice stayed calm.

  The sensors in the chair said there was no deception in Malin. Frowning in puzzlement, trying to guess which of the soldiers assigned to his headquarters could possibly be Malin’s biological mother, Drakon ran the search.

  The answer popped up almost instantly. A perfect match.

  Drakon stared at the answer. He could read the words, but the meaning kept slipping away from him. They couldn’t possibly be saying what his eyes kept seeing.

  Colonel Malin’s voice sounded as if it were coming from somewhere very far away. “As I am certain the DNA match confirms, my biological mother is Colonel Roh Morgan.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “WHEN Morgan said she knew my secret, I thought that meant she had discovered not just the DNA discrepancy, but also our true relationship,” Malin explained in that same unnaturally calm voice. “I admit that I did not react properly.”

  Drakon had been standing up until now, but he abruptly sat down, staring at Malin. “How? You’re almost the same age as— That mission.”

  “Yes, sir,” Malin said. Now that the secret was out he spoke quickly. “The mission. When Colonel Morgan was barely eighteen, a line worker in the commandos, she volunteered for a suicide mission aimed at learning more about the enigma race. She and the other volunteers were frozen into survival sleep. Twenty years after the mission began, it was canceled. Only Morgan and one other of the commandos were recovered.”

  “I knew that,” Drakon said. “Though it’s easy to forget that Morgan is about twenty years older than her apparent age. Twenty years chronologically, because she didn’t age while frozen. But how ?”

  “My mother was one of the medical executives assigned to prep the commando volunteers for survival sleep,” Malin explained. “While she was prepping Morgan, she discovered that Morgan, barely eighteen years old, was pregnant, so recently that Morgan herself was certainly unaware of the fact.”

  “A last-minute fling before going off to die,” Drakon guessed.

  “Most likely, sir. Regulations called for the embryo to be destroyed under those circumstances. Medical Executive Flora Malin was unable to conceive on her own because of physical damage sustained during some of the same research projects that ultimately killed her. Deeply feeling the loss of her husband in the war, she saw the discovery of that embryo as a gift. Instead of destroying it, Flora Malin secretly preserved it and, a little while later
, had it implanted. In time, I was born to her.” Malin closed his eyes, then opened them to look intently at Drakon. “I didn’t know. I hadn’t a clue, not until I was about to join the Syndicate forces and leave home. Then my mother confided the truth to me because I needed to know that there would be inconsistencies between my official DNA and who I really was. With her position inside the medical service, Flora Malin had covered that up, but now I would have to do it unless I chose to openly acknowledge my biological mother.”

  Drakon sat back, not able to speak for a few seconds. “And Morgan had come back.”

  “Right about that time, yes, sir. That’s why the deception was necessary. My mother Flora, as one of those involved in the initial mission, was called in to assist in reviving Morgan.” Malin’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. “She felt guilty. Guilty about what had been done to Morgan, about having Morgan’s child. She did what she could to help Morgan.”

  The long-standing mystery finally explained itself. “Morgan got cleared for active duty and later for promotion to officer rank even though her psych evals were borderline, and she lacked any known patrons to pull strings for her. Your mother was in the medical service. She pulled the strings that got Morgan that medical waiver.”

  “Yes, sir. Though that would have meant little if you had not subsequently given Morgan a chance despite her psych evals.” Malin looked down. “It took a while after I joined the ground forces to find out where Morgan was. I was torn about whether to see her. My mother, Flora, warned me that I might regret doing so, but as she lay dying, she urged me to finally follow my heart. I did so, arranging a transfer to your command, where Morgan was also serving.”

  A single, sharp, mocking laugh came from Malin. “And so I came to meet my true mother.”

  “And you found Morgan.”

  “I found Morgan,” Malin agreed.

  Drakon eyed Malin as he dredged up memories. “Morgan disliked you from the moment you first met.”

  “I’ve wondered if she sensed something even at that first moment,” Malin said.

  “And before long you returned the dislike.”

  “She is Morgan, sir.”

  “And your mother.” Drakon’s fist hit the desk. “That incident on the orbital platform. You weren’t trying to kill her. You really were just trying to save Morgan. Trying to save . . .”

  “My mother.”

  Drakon stared at Malin again, more memories coming to life. “You’ve stayed at this command to protect your mother? All those times . . . Malin, she’s Morgan!”

  “I know.” Malin sounded as if someone was choking him.

  “And she has no idea?”

  “Not consciously, no, sir. I’m certain that at some subconscious level she knows, though.”

  “I’d say it’s pretty damned certain she knows even if she’s not consciously aware of it!” Drakon exploded. “Morgan usually goes after people with fiery efficiency, but she hates you. Why the hell have you stayed around her? Why do you feel an obligation to protect her?”

  Malin looked down, clasping his hands so tightly together that muscles, veins, and bones stood out clearly. “My mother, Flora, is not the only one who feels guilty.”

  No deception noted, Drakon’s equipment advised.

  Malin looked up again, relaxing. “And as I got to know you and her better, sir, I felt an obligation to protect you from her.”

  No deception noted.

  “Does the fact that she’s your biological mother also play a role? Do you feel an obligation to her because of that?”

  This time there was a pause before Malin answered. “Yes, sir. I am aware that it makes no sense, but . . . yes.”

  No deception noted.

  Drakon looked back at Malin, wondering what to do. The offense of fraudulently altering official records was a real one and a serious offense at that. But the reasons Malin had for such deception were understandable. If my mother were Morgan, that’s the least I would have done to hide the relationship.

  Morgan was Malin’s mother. It explained some things. Certain similarities that had nagged at Drakon, only to be dismissed as coincidental.

  How far had this particular apple named Malin fallen from the tree that was Morgan? Drakon had thought those two worked as checks on each other, but if Malin felt obligations toward Morgan, how far did those obligations go? He had thought he understood the dynamics between Malin and Morgan, but now Drakon wondered. I wasn’t aware of something this huge between them. What else don’t I know? Are there other things going on behind the screen of what I used to think was reality between those two?

  Colonel Malin finally cleared his throat to break the lingering silence. “Sir, in respect to protecting you from Morgan, that is why I came to your office. There is something you need to know about her.”

  Drakon pressed both hands against his face, letting the pressure soothe his racing mind. “I can’t wait to hear it, and I’m sure you’ve got solid evidence. At least I can be sure it’s not about her being someone else’s mother.”

  The silence stretched out again until Drakon dropped his hands and glared at Malin. “What is it?”

  “You already said it, General.” Malin gestured in the direction of Morgan’s quarters. “Colonel Roh Morgan has not yet had another child, but I have learned that she is pregnant.”

  Oh, that’s great! Who the hell— Drakon suddenly felt very cold. “Morgan is pregnant.”

  “Yes, sir.” Malin visibly braced himself before speaking again. “You are the father. That is why she seduced you on Taroa.”

  The memories this time were of Morgan smiling the morning after on Taroa. “Do you mind telling me what you hoped to accomplish?” Drakon had demanded.

  And Morgan had replied, “I think it was pretty obvious what I was trying to accomplish last night. And I succeeded.”

  He hadn’t realized what she meant, hadn’t even considered such a possibility. Not from Morgan. “Why?” Drakon finally managed to say.

  Malin shrugged, much of his old composure back. “We can safely assume Morgan was not motivated by tender emotions or the desire for motherhood. And for all her . . . uniqueness . . . Morgan can also be exceptionally desirable to men. She could have gotten pregnant by anyone if a child were what she wanted. But she wanted your child, General.”

  Morgan, the mother of his child. The old beliefs said that when you did something that you knew was wrong, you sooner or later paid a heavy price. He had never believed the price could be this high.

  Drakon looked at Malin with new understanding. “That’s why you were so angry with her, why you actually drew a weapon on her. It wasn’t just fear that she had learned your real relationship. You knew she’d gotten pregnant by me. The woman who instinctively rejects you has another child.”

  “It’s not about me,” Malin denied. The sensors in his chair wavered in their assessments, finally rendering a measured judgment. Probably not deceptive.

  Or self-deceptive, Drakon thought.

  “She has a use for that child,” Malin said. “You know her. Morgan wanted that child, by you, for a reason. I do not know that reason. But—”

  “No child of mine is going to be raised by Roh Morgan!” Drakon stood up, breathing heavily, trying to control an urge to dash to Morgan’s quarters and—

  And what?

  “General,” Malin said, the urgency in his tone penetrating Drakon’s tangled thoughts. “Morgan must not know about me. I do not know how she would react.”

  Drakon found himself laughing harshly. “Morgan? I think it’s safe to say that she wouldn’t give you a teary-eyed embrace and coo endearments to her long-lost baby boy. Especially since you’re biologically almost a year older than her.” He paused, trying to think. “No. I won’t tell her. How do you know she won’t run a match on that DNA?”

  Malin shrugged. “Probably for the same instinctive reason she hates me. Morgan will shy away from running that check because part of her realizes she won’t like the answer.
But if she does, I have taps in all systems that would notify me of the check, and of who ran it. If I am warned of that . . . I will take steps to protect myself.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?” Drakon said.

  “Sir, do you really need to ask me that?” Malin shook his head. “I was tempted at times, but I could never bring myself to tell you.”

  No deception noted.

  What isn’t Malin telling me? What statements aren’t being made because they would show deception? Malin is an expert at beating interrogation systems. That’s why he’s one of my best interrogators. He knows all the tricks someone else might use.

  Gwen warned me. Watch out for those beneath you. I thought I knew everything important about Morgan and Malin, and the biggest thing of all was a total surprise to me.

  But I have to deal with Morgan now. “Colonel Malin, I need to know that I can trust you.”

  “I will not betray your interests,” Malin said.

  No deception noted.

  But what exactly did that mean?

  Drakon tossed Malin’s sidearm back to him. “That’s all for now. I’m going to see Morgan. It’s probably best that you not accompany me.”

  MORGAN, sitting at ease with one arm draped over the back of a chair, smiled as Drakon entered her quarters. “Is he dead?” she asked. “Was it quick or slow?”

  Drakon came to a halt just out of reach of her. “Colonel Malin is alive. He offered an adequate explanation of the circumstances.”

  Morgan froze for a moment, then her expression shifted as she studied Drakon. “You kept him alive for a reason.”

  “Yes, I did.” Leave it at that and keep Morgan wondering. “Now there’s something you and I have to discuss.”

  She feigned distress. “Did the little weasel accuse me of something?”

  “At what point were you going to inform me that you were pregnant?”

  It was rare to see Morgan off-balance, but it only lasted for a fraction of a second. Then she laughed as if genuinely amused. “He found out? The man has more talent than I thought. And, of course, he told you.”