by Rick Partlow
“There still might be a way,” Roza said, coming up behind them. “In the GIS, we don’t often have access to a full hypnoprobe machine when we do field investigations, so we use a drug instead. It was developed over a hundred years ago to fight a disease called Alzheimer’s, before genetic surgery put an end to such things. It is designed to restore neural pathways to the memory centers…when used in conjunction with psychoactives, it can basically make people remember things they had forgotten and force them to tell them.”
“Sounds too good to be true,” Ari commented. “What’s the downside?”
“Yes, that is the problem,” she admitted, cocking an eyebrow. “The drug by itself is not a bad thing. At the most, you would find yourself remembering things from the past very clearly for a while. I have heard there is a black market in it for that reason, though not a large one. But when you use the psychoactives with it, well, you run the risk of seizure and possible brain damage. We didn’t use this method on people we liked.”
Shannon took in a deep breath and sighed it out heavily. “Go tell Tom the name of the drug. He can get it for us. Tell him to bring back a trained medic with a portable kit.” Roza nodded and turned to find Crossman. At Ari’s look, Shannon shook her head. “I know…he doesn’t deserve it, but it’s his welfare against possibly billions.”
“We’re also breaking quite a few laws and violating the Republic and the US Constitutions,” Ari pointed out.
“If we don’t stop what’s coming,” Shannon pointed out, “none of that will matter. I take full responsibility. Go check on Bryant. If he’s still panicking, give him a sedative.”
Ari nodded and headed back into the room. Shannon waited till he was gone, then cursed softly, slamming her fist into the bare buildfoam wall.
Dammit, Jason. Why’d you have to go off and leave me to handle this shit?
Because he trusts you more than anyone else in the world, she answered herself. In any world. Which means you can’t let him down.
“Liam,” Shannon repeated, snapping her fingers, “can you hear me?”
The man’s eyes were unfocussed, his head lolling, his breath coming in shuddering gasps. The Special Ops medic Tom had brought back with him looked worried, but didn’t say anything as she lightly slapped Liam on the cheek.
“I…hear you,” Liam answered, his words slurred.
“Liam, tell me what happened on the mission to Aphrodite,” Shannon instructed. “Tell me what happened on the Patton.”
“Please don’t make me,” Liam whimpered pitifully. “It…it hurts.”
“Liam, if you tell me, if you get it out, the hurt will go away,” Shannon promised him, feeling like a total shit. “Tell me what happened on the Patton.”
“It was…” He grimaced at the words, as if they were a bad taste in his mouth. “It was just a few months after the war, and we were shuttling some VIPs to Aphrodite. We were bringing some relief supplies too…small stuff like medicines, a couple portable fabricators, along with some techs to fix up their solar powersat rectennae. It was a bitch getting the shuttles rearranged to carry all that shit down.” His voice was becoming easier, more conversational as he talked.
“Aphrodite was boring as shit,” he went on. “I had to stay with the lander the whole time and even if I hadn’t, there wasn’t a damn thing to do anyway. We were all unloading supplies or running the buildfoam dispensers, building temporary shelters, repairing the buildings left standing, while the politicians and the brass gave speeches at each other. I couldn’t wait to get off that damn rock.
“Then, after staying there a month, we shipped out. Except…when we stopped at the antimatter factory out near the system’s primary, there was a ship there. Someone told me it was a cargo ship sent after we left. Uncrewed, automated. They thought it had come to the antimatter satellite to refuel for the trip back to Earth, but something was wrong with it. It wasn’t moving. Captain Patel, he sent a work crew over in my lander. They had to wear suits…the freighter wasn’t pressurized. We had telemetry with them through their suitcams, but when they boarded the freighter, it got staticy…there was some kind of interference. After a few minutes, I got a transmission…voice only, but they said they had found the problem. The AI had a bad cooling core and they needed to take it back to the Patton for repair.”
Liam was getting less at ease now, his brows furled, nostrils wide as he took in labored breaths. “They came back on board carrying it…it was pretty big, like two meters long, a meter wide. They stayed with it in the hold, said they would get it stabilized and ride there with it back to the Patton since they were already suited up. I…I didn’t know these guys, you understand? I barely could have recognized them with their suits off and they were in helmets the whole time. It wasn’t my fault!”
“It’s okay, Liam,” Shannon said soothingly. “No one’s blaming you. Go ahead, tell us the rest.”
“We…we got back to the ship,” he continued. “And they carried the core into the docking bay, put it on a maneuvering sled to take it through the cargo lock and into the ship’s engineering section so they could work on it. I locked the lander down and headed back to the ready room for some downtime…and then…I was in the corridor, just heading for the ready room and I felt something. Like a sound, but not a sound, like it was in my teeth, in my gut.” He winced, fists clenched, arms tensed against the straps that held him down. “It hurt…it felt like every bone in my body was going to explode, then nothing. Not like going to sleep, more like someone switched my lights off.” He moaned softly, a trickle of spittle running down the side of his mouth.
“When I…when my brain switched back on, I was somewhere else. I was lying in a room with a dirt floor, and there was gravity. Not Earth normal, but close. There were a few other guys in there with me, guys I knew. Sanchez from the bridge crew, Gradkowski from maintenance and Dalton from engineering. We all came to at the same time. Dalton…he told me what happened. He said that the work party that came back from the freighter…they weren’t our guys. He said they came into engineering and gassed everyone, but before he went out, he heard them talking Russian.”
“Oh, shit,” Ari muttered from behind her.
“He figured that there was something in that fake core that knocked everyone out. He said subsonics or something. Something that could conduct through the ship, wherever there was atmosphere. I don’t know where they took us or how long we were out…there was no way to tell. All our ‘links had been taken, we didn’t have anything-we were even wearing different clothes. After a few hours, they hit us with the whatever- it-was again. When I came to, I was in some sort of laboratory, strapped to a chair…” His voice was becoming more and more strained and his face was covered with sweat.
“They…they used that thing on me,” he said through clenched teeth, jerking his head toward the door, obviously referring to the hypnoprobe. “There were others in there with me, being made to forget. I don’t remember anything after that until we were on our way back to Earth on the Patton and by then no one remembered anything.” He shook his head, face screwed up in agony, muscles spasming against the restraints.
“There’s something else, Liam,” Shannon said, taking a step toward him. “What is it?”
“No…no…” The words were an agonized plea. “I…they…they told me…”
“If you tell us, the pain will go away,” she insisted. “It will all go away…”
“Before…” he grunted the words out like they were poison. “Before they started with the machine…I saw something. These things…vats? Tanks? I don’t know…they were shaped like nothing I’d seen before. They didn’t look like any human thing. I don’t know how I knew, I just knew. They had someone over there, at the tanks…one of the politicians. That Senator guy. They pulled him out of one of the tanks and he was like drugged or something…and then..they…” He groaned as if he were in physical pain and squeezed his eyes shut. “And then they pulled him out again. There was two of him!” He scr
eamed the words out and began sobbing cathartically, tears pouring down his cheeks. “Oh Jesus, oh Jesus,” he moaned. “Then they put the machine on me and tried to make me forget everything, but Jesus Christ! How could you forget that? How could anyone?”
“Doc?” She looked to the medic. The man held a monitoring device to Liam’s temple for a moment, then nodded.
“He’s okay,” the medic told her. “I don’t think there’s any damage and he hasn’t seized. His brain waves are looking good.”
Shannon let out a relieved sigh and patted Liam’s shoulder as the man continued to sob. “Ari, Doc, unstrap him, give him a sedative and put him in one of the holding rooms. You stay with him there Doc, make sure he doesn’t lose it again. Hopefully remembering what actually happened will get rid of his delusions.”
“What actually happened?” Ari repeated. “Ma’am just what the hell did actually happen? Is he…” Ari shook his head in disbelief. “Is he saying what I think he’s saying?”
“If you think that he’s saying that the Patton was hijacked by the Protectorate five years ago,” Shannon said calmly, looking him in the eye, “and that the entire crew was brainwashed, and that our current Vice President was somehow copied using alien technology…then yes, he’s saying what you think he’s saying.”
“So, the Protectorate is behind the coup?” Tom Crossman asked, his eyes wide.
“I wonder if the others who are involved know just to what extent then Protectorate is involved,” Roza mused.
“Ma’am,” Ari asked as he began taking off Liam’s restraints, “what the hell do we do about all this?”
“That’s not our decision, Ari,” Shannon told him, rubbing the back of her neck tiredly. “What we do now is take what we know to the President.” She shook her head. “And hope we can make him believe any of it.”
Chapter Twenty
“Looks pretty bad from out here,” Esmeralda Villanueva radioed, gently nudging the controls of her shuttle to send it slowly floating across the nose of the Sheridan. The nose of the massive cruiser was armored with a solid meter of nickel iron melted off an asteroid…not even the directed fusion blast of the Protectorate lighter’s main drive had been able to penetrate that, though it had re-melted and vaporized several centimeters of it.
What the blast had penetrated was the much thinner armor over the gravimetic emitters in the nose that were the key to the ship’s long-range sensor array. Without them, the ship could still use optical, radar and lidar to scan her surroundings…but when she went FTL via the Eysselink field, she’d be flying blind.
“Are you seeing this, Sheridan?” She asked, trying to angle the shuttle to get a better picture of the damage.
“Roger that,” acknowledged Lt. Commander Devlin, the Damage Control officer. “Assault One, do a slow pan around the nose then you can head back to the docking bay.”
On the bridge of the Sheridan, Devlin shook his head slowly as he examined the images coming from the shuttle. “I don’t think there’s any way to repair that kind of damage outside of a dry-dock, Admiral,” he said with grim finality.
“I think you’re right, Mr. Devlin,” Patel agreed, scowling. “I suppose it could have been worse.”
McKay nodded silent agreement, suppressing a shudder.
What a clusterfuck, he reflected. The Helm had activated the drive at nearly the same time that both he and Patel had screamed the command…but it had been a half-second too late. The damage had been done. And when the Eysselink field had impacted the enemy ship’s drive plates, the resultant fusion explosion had ripped the Protectorate lighter to atoms.
“So,” McKay finally said aloud, holding onto a safety rail behind the Admiral, “the Protectorate ship is toast, which means we can’t follow it to the next gate. Even if we figured out where we are, we can’t use our Eysselink drive to go home because we can’t navigate at hyperlight speeds without the gravimetic sensors: we could fly right into a planet or even a star. That leaves us with just one option as far as I can see: follow the gates back the way we came until we reach the Peboan system and then follow the route that Mironov gave us back to Earth.”
Patel hissed out a sigh, and McKay knew him well enough to know that another man would have been cursing. The Admiral said nothing for a moment, staring at the viewscreen. “Engineering,” Patel called over the intership communicator.
“Engineering here, sir,” came the reply from Commander Kopecky, the Sheridan‘s chief engineering officer.
“Commander, can we still use the Eysselink field to open the wormholes without the forward emitters?”
Kopecky didn’t answer immediately and McKay could picture from past encounters the broad-bodied, bushy-browed Czech lost in thought, mouth twitching as he talked himself through the problem. “Aaaaaye,” the man dragged the word out slowly as if he were assembling it in his head, “I believe we can still manage it sir. We can rig something using the gravimetic lensing fields for the laser batteries possibly.”
“There’s no way to use those lensing fields to replace the sensor emitters?” McKay asked, curious.
“Hmmm…” Kopecky turned the grunt into a Buddhist mantra. “You know, Colonel McKay, that’s not entirely impossible. The downside would be that we would lose the lasers as armament for the duration of our voyage…and of course the range would be a bit less: those lensing field emitters aren’t as big as the sensor emitters, nor as powerful. But we might be able to rig something up. What say you, Conner?” He was speaking to Conner Devlin, the Damage Control officer who was still on the bridge.
Devlin had a troubled expression, his eyes clouded with thought and McKay thought he would be pacing if there were gravity. “It might work. It will require some serious crew-hours of work…I think we’re looking at thirty to forty hours, minimum of solid work, not counting testing. And like Commander Kopecky said, we’d lose the lasers.”
“That’s a damn good idea, McKay,” Patel nodded to him. “Commander Kopecky, get with Commander Devlin and work me up a detailed plan for making the modifications. I want it presented to me in my office in two hours.”
“Permission to head to engineering, sir,” Devlin asked.
“Of course, Mr. Devlin.” Devlin pushed off and headed out into the corridor and Patel turned to the Tactical officer. “Ms. Pirelli,” he said, “we have some experience now with the jumpgates. I know you can pick them up on the gravimetic sensors when they open. What I want you to do is get together with the senior Sensor tech and compare our readings from before the gates were opened and see if there is any sort of predictable reading we’re getting via the Eysselink scanners when they aren’t open. And I want that report in my office in three hours, is that clear?”
“Aye, sir,” Pirelli said with more confidence than she probably felt, if McKay judged the slight widening of her eyes correctly. She turned back to her station and used her ‘link to call the Sensor station.
“I think I see where you’re going here, sir,” McKay ventured thoughtfully, hanging behind the Admiral’s shoulder. “It’s risky, but I like it.”
“I’m grateful for your approval, Colonel,” Patel commented ironically, cocking an eyebrow. “Mr. Mironov.” He turned to the Russian, who’d been taking all this in impassively, as if he were watching a movie. “You said you had tried to stay away from Novoye Rodina, but if we get you within a few jumps of the system, could you recognize it?”
Mironov looked to McKay, who sighed and had a brief exchange with the man in Russian.
“I think I can,” Mironov said haltingly. “I would need to see system…” Another exchange with McKay. “…specifications, planetary positions. I would need to be within one or two jumps, I think.”
“Mr. Mironov, I want you to sit down with Mr. Sweeny and give him every detail you remember about the systems near Novoye Rodina…Colonel McKay, you can help translate, if you wouldn’t mind. Get it done in four hours and get it to my office.”
“I’m beginning to sense a patt
ern there,” McKay said with a grin.
“Well, you are the head of intelligence,” Patel observed wryly. “I want to be moving on a course of action in six hours. If we have to rig the laser focusing fields, I want us ready to leave the minute the work is done. We are not going home without the location of Novoye Rodina, even if it means flying blind through every jumpgate between here and the next galaxy. Do you concur?”
“The President’s last word to me on the matter of General Antonov,” McKay told him, “was ‘Kill that son of a bitch.’ I don’t want to head home until I at least try to carry out that order.”
“Excellent. Then let’s get to work.”
Vincent Mahoney smiled slightly as he traced a finger over the curve of Esmeralda Villanueva’s shoulder. Her skin was warm and slightly damp with sweat; spherical globules of their perspiration floated around inside the sleep net that kept them in her bed.
“You know,” Vinnie said quietly, “I never had sex in zero gravity before this trip.”
Esmeralda raised an eyebrow. “And you were a Marine? I find that hard to believe.”
He shrugged. “Getting involved with someone in my platoon didn’t seem smart. And the Fleet girls…well, by the time I made it on the Reaction Force platoons, I was an NCO and it didn’t seem like the right example to be setting.”
“Jesus, you’re a regular boy scout, aren’t you?” She laughed, a sound he would never get tired of.
“If I were a boy scout,” he replied, raising an eyebrow, “I wouldn’t be fraternizing with a superior officer.” He shrugged. “Of course, I may have mellowed a bit in my old age.”
“And fraternizing very, very well, may I say,” she purred, leaning over to kiss him. “I’m just glad for the break. It seems like we’ve been on battle stations for days.”
“If we do find a way to detect the wormholes,” Vinnie said, “we’ll probably be on battle stations for the foreseeable future.”