Wrecker's Moon

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Wrecker's Moon Page 12

by Patrick McClafferty


  “Oh damn.” Kelsoe muttered as she turned to face Horatio. “Mia just told me that she can save the young girl.” Kelsoe said slowly.

  “Mia?”

  “The ship’s AI, and the heart and soul of the Wyvern.” Her eyes rested on the young man who was looking at her curiously. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. There are some things I need to say to Horatio.” The eyes of both of the men widened, and the younger simply nodded.

  “As you wish.” He replied as he turned for the door.

  Kelsoe turned back to the Fleet Captain who was standing at a still parade-rest, his hands folded behind his back. His lined and weathered face was expressionless. “Mia told me that she can heal the girl, but the boy’s wounds are beyond her ability.”

  Horatio nodded stiffly. “I thought as much. I’ve seen wounds before, and his are slowly killing him.” He took a deep breath. “Can you make his last hours comfortable, at least?” He frowned when Kelsoe smiled.

  “I said that Mia can’t heal him…but perhaps I can.” She waved at the table. “Sit down, Fleet Captain. This story may take a while.” She watched as hope dawned in the hard man’s face. “As my father was dying, he passed the command of this ship to me, as well as something else. Somewhere in all of his travels he became infected with an alien virus, a vector if you will. Aarlan called it the Abreeza Vector, although the reality of what he had living in him defies any description I’ve ever heard.” From her seat Kelsoe heard Horatio hiss in surprise.

  “Was this thing dangerous?” The man whispered.

  It was Mia that let out something that sounded suspiciously like a snicker. “Just the opposite, Fleet Captain. As best as we can figure the Abreeza Vector is a symbiotic virus, but what a virus. It will do its best to keep its host alive, whatever the circumstances. It will increase your lifespan, and it will take care of you.”

  “To what end?” Horatio asked gruffly. “I’ve found that anything that is too good to be true, usually is.” He snorted. “You make it sound like the thing can nearly talk.”

  “To be honest, I don’t know to what end, Horatio, and as far as we know it cannot or will not communicate.” Kelsoe replied, a slightly worried look on her face. “It does, however, respond to my wishes in some cases. To make a long story short, I can ask this Vector, to infect your grandson. It is the only thing I can do that will save his life, short of a full re-gen tank at an Empire hospital, and we both know what the chances of him getting that level of help are.”

  Horatio leaned toward Kelsoe, his hands flat on the table. “What will this do to Séamas?”

  Kelsoe’s smile was crooked, but her eyes sparkled. “He will survive in situations where he should logically die. He will live to become a man.”

  “Until he grows old and dies.” Horatio inserted, a hint of a bitter note in his voice. Taking in his grey hair and straight carriage, Kelsoe sighed.

  “That might not be quite true, Horatio. As it was explained to me, this Vector engenders a long life in its hosts. A very long life. The pilot my father received the Vector from was over five hundred standard years old, in a race whose lifespan is the same as ours.”

  “Why didn’t this Vector heal him, then?” Horatio frowned.

  Kelsoe turned to Mia, and raised her eyebrow.

  “The Tumerizi ship had been holed by a Vonuborg warship, and was venting atmosphere into space for several hours. The body of the pilot was beyond help, but the Abreeza Vector still had the energy to transfer to Aarlan. Another hour and even the tough Vector would have died.”

  Horatio held Kelsoe’s eyes with his for a long moment. “Do it.” He rumbled. “Save my grandson.”

  I suspect that I’ll do more than that. Kelsoe thought to herself as she stood and turned to the unconscious boy. Placing the palm of her hand on the boy’s neck, Kelsoe could feel his heartbeat fluttering beneath her fingertips, and knew that the young life could be measured in minutes.

  “How soon will we know if what you did worked?” The older man asked, glancing at the medical pod where his grandson lay.

  Kelsoe removed her hand, and noted a small drop of blood on the boy’s neck. As she watched, the drop disappeared. “I have no idea, Horatio. This is new territory for me.” The older man stood and joined her vigil over his grandson. As they watched, the grey pallor began to fade from the boy’s cheeks, and his rattling breathing eased.

  “His heartbeat is stabilizing.” Mia whispered in amazement. “And his regenerative systems have tripled in efficiency. This is…incredible!”

  “How soon can he come home?” Horatio asked in a stunned voice.

  “The boy had, as you say, had one foot in the grave.” Mia replied. “It may take up to a week for him to regain consciousness. It won’t take my medical systems long to clear the bacteria from your granddaughter’s body, and Jasmina should be awake by tomorrow, and ready to leave in a week”

  Kelsoe smiled. “I have urgent business elsewhere, Horatio, so I’m afraid that the children will have to come with me for the moment. Mia and I will take good care of them. If things go well, when I’m finished with the current task I hope to get the Smith family relocated to a more amicable land far from here.” Kelsoe was shocked to see tears standing in the gruff man’s eyes. She wondered what he would be saying in a month. They turned away as the cover slid down over the second medical pod, and were about to leave the wardroom when a sixteen inch grass green plastic cube appeared on the table. There was a dispenser in the front, and a small hopper set into the top.

  “This,” Mia began without preamble, “is an emergency replicator meant for a colony world. It will provide unlimited quantities of both fresh water and nutritious, if somewhat boring food. All you need to do is shovel raw material into the hopper in the top and tell it what you want, although your choices will be limited to water, delivered in quart plastic bottles, fruit, vegetables, meat and starch. This particular model has a spice packet available which will allow you to improve the flavor of the rather bland dishes. It will also provide a small medical kit to you on request. The operative word there is small.” She emphasized.

  Kelsoe saw Horatio swallow. “Thank you.” He picked up the cube gingerly with shaking hands, and gave Kelsoe a long look followed by a short bow. “Thank you Primus.”

  Kelsoe could feel herself flush. “Please, Horatio. Just Kelsoe.”

  A small smile tugged at the corners of the older man’s lips as he turned to the airlock. “Whatever you say, Primus.” His voice was thick with emotion. He stopped at the bottom of the ramp as the younger man came up to him, then looked back to Kelsoe and smiled. “I’m going to have my son Donovan go with you.” It was a statement, not a question. “He was a Fleet Frigate Commander, and is a good man in a fight, if you’re going where I think you’re going; try not to get him killed.” Chuckling to himself, he turned back to the waiting crowd.

  The tall young man ducked back into the airlock as the ramp flowed up, his expression sheepish. He held out a heavily callused hand. “I’m Donovan Smith, at your service.”

  Kelsoe did her best not to giggle as she held out her own hand. “Kelsoe Smith.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “I guess that we’re second or third or something cousins.” His hand was warm and hard as a rock and his eyes deep grey. For some reason Kelsoe found her heart beating very fast. “There are several small billets available on the lower level.” She was quite proud that her voice didn’t sound all trembly and girly, although she felt it on the inside. “Mia can provide you a fresh uniform if you would like, and whatever toiletries you might need. I’m going to be up on the command deck. I want to put us up in a nice low orbit before we’re seen.”

  “As you wish, Captain.” He gave her small nod.

  “Call me Kelsoe, please.”

  His grey eyes sparkled. “Kelsoe then. My father Horatio was quite impressed and taken with you, and that takes a lot.”

  Kelsoe frowned. “He never had the time to say anything to you.” She pointed o
ut.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Donovan returned politely. “Dad was smiling. I haven’t seen him smile in the past six months we’ve been here. Whatever you did, or whatever you said, you gave him hope that wasn’t there an hour ago. I’ll do whatever I can to ensure that hope wasn’t misplaced.”

  Kelsoe stared at him for a moment, and then turned and stormed off to the command deck, grumbling under her breath, while behind her Donovan just watched and smiled.

  It was all coming unraveled. She slouched in her command chair and bit savagely at an unoffending fingernail. She had set up this wonderful plan, and now it had fallen apart around her, leaving her with a near impossible problem to solve, and three extra people to take care of. She glared at her mangled fingernail. It just wasn’t fair.

  “It’s a nice ship you have here.” A deep masculine voice said behind her. Kelsoe barely managed to suppress a squeak of surprise as she pulled herself up straighter in the chair and jammed her guilty finger under her leg. “I didn’t hear you come in.” Her voice was mostly under control.

  “Obviously.” Donovan observed dryly as he sat in one of the other bridge chairs. When she turned to look at him she noted that he was freshly showered, and attired in a clean uniform. A smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth, and Kelsoe bit her tongue, bound and determined that a flush would NOT touch her cheeks. Despite her best intentions, her cheeks heated anyway. He glanced at the view screen, and nodded. “I see we’re in orbit.” Looking around the command deck, a small frown furrowed his face. “But I don’t see much in the way of controls.”

  Kelsoe sighed. “You don’t see controls because I don’t pilot the Wyvern. You might as well introduce yourself, Mia. You and Donovan are going to have to work together anyway.”

  The form of Mia undulated onto the command deck like a well-oiled clockwork operating with many ball bearings. When she spoke her low contralto voice was honey smooth. “Hello Donovan.” She purred. “It’s very nice to meet you.” The smile she shot at him was a thousand volts, and for some reason her shipsuit seemed slightly on the small side, showing every curve and dimple of her exquisite holographic body.

  The young man bounded to his feet, his mouth working like a fish out of water, but nothing intelligible came out. Mia turned slightly and gave Kelsoe a slow wink. The young woman put her hand over her mouth to conceal her laughter, and turned away.

  Finally Donovan managed to get his vocal chords working again. “Who are you?” He asked with a strangled gasp.

  The kilowatt smile came back. “I’m the ship’s AI, if you really want to know. I know…and see everything that goes on in this ship.” It was Donovan’s turn to redden, and Mia just smiled.

  “You have a formidable weapon there, Mia.” The young man wheezed, sitting back down.

  Mia did a little pirouette, her smile widening. “Do you really like it? Your blood pressure says that you do.”

  Kelsoe cleared her throat. “In your current dress you might be a little distracting.” She raised an eyebrow. “This is a warship, and not a brothel, Mia.” Donovan blinked.

  “Oh bother.” Mia gave her a little moue as her shipsuit stretched by two sizes. Kelsoe noted that it was still snug however, in all the right places.

  “Better.” On the other side of the command deck she heard Donovan let out his breath.

  “We are cloaked and in a stable orbit at three hundred miles.” Mia was suddenly all business again. “I will adjust our position for approaching traffic as necessary.”

  “We will be in the wardroom, Mia. We have some plans to make, I believe.”

  “Very good, Captain. I have the conn.” Kelsoe just nodded as she left the room.

  Donovan walked at her side. “It seems as though I should know Mia, but I don’t see how that is possible.” He confessed as they entered the small wardroom.

  Kelsoe just smiled. “When my father programmed the Wyvern’s personality matrix he tried as best as he could to pattern it after his wife, Lady Lydia Smith. I’ve been told that the accuracy is remarkable, right down to her capacity to love and her fiery temper.”

  “Lady Lydia Sm…” Donovan’s voice trailed off, and he stared at her with wide eyes. “Did my father know?” He asked in a disbelieving voice.

  Kelsoe nodded. “I told him as soon as I met him. He didn’t believe me either.”

  The young man leaned back in his chair, chuckling. “Oh, he believed you all right. He wouldn’t have sent me with you if he didn’t. He’s a very…practical man and a superb tactician.”

  Kelsoe sighed. “Mia, do you have anything in your data archives about the Fleet Headquarters building?” She asked, changing the subject. “In particular I’m looking for the location of the Fleet FTL Transceiver.”

  The hologram of a blockhouse appeared floating above the table. “The Fleet Headquarters is a massive construction, taking up the entirety of the twenty mile long by eight mile wide Rahm Atoll.” Mia began in a level voice. “The first building is administration, and is a five hundred foot cube, although only the upper two hundred feet is above ground level. Separated from the first building by a five mile runway, is a second smaller blockhouse, a mere four hundred foot cube, housing three full wings of air to space fighters, and three hundred marines. While the public domain documents do not describe the location of the Fleet FTL Transceiver, a civilian work order for the device’s installation was quite specific. The Transceiver is located in the exact center of the administration building.”

  Kelsoe stared at the blinking red dot, her mind numb. “That’s fifty feet below ground level!” She moaned in disbelief. Kelsoe sat for a long time—unmoving, and unthinking.

  “I’ve been in the building before.” Donovan offered quietly, staring at the hologram as intently as Kelsoe. “Perhaps I could get in and send the message.”

  The young woman shot him a grateful look, but it was Mia that popped his soap bubble. “The blockhouse has bio-sensors in every corridor in the building. I’m afraid you wouldn’t get in the front door. The FTL Transceiver also has a DNA encoding requirement, as well as an eighty digit encryption key that is hypnotically implanted in Kelsoe’s memory.”

  Donovan glared at the AI, sitting calmly at the other end of the table. “How did you know all that?”

  Mia chuckled. “Most of it is in the public domain. If Fleet Headquarters lets it be known that the building is well defended, terrorists won’t even try to breech its defenses. Some of the information came from the memory of Aarlan Theodosius Smith himself.”

  “A battle you don’t have to fight is often better than simply winning a fight.” Donovan murmured. “My father was fond of that saying.”

  “Do they have cleaning crews service the building?” Kelsoe asked when her brain finally began to work again.

  “They do.” Mia admitted, after a few seconds of thought. “The cleaners, like all the visitors to the building are fully screened and their profiles are entered into the building Security Database.”

  Kelsoe brightened. “Could you enter my name like you did at the Royal Residence? You broke into that Fleet database in the destroyer easily enough.” Donovan blinked in surprise.

  “Fleet Headquarters,” Mia replied in a flat voice, “has the most heavily guarded and encrypted database in the Empire. While I can break in, it will take me some time, and time is the one thing we don’t have.”

  “Ohhhh.” Kelsoe replied in a small voice, her hope fading. She sat for an hour, staring at the hologram, empty of thoughts and unmoving. Then she cocked her head to the side. “Give me a top down view of the building please, Mia.” The view spun. “Thank you.” She smiled thinly. “Do you notice anything?” She asked a squinting Donovan. He shook his head slowly, and she smiled again. “Empire architects and the military in general like standardization. Except for the main floor and lobby, every single floor is exactly the same as the floor above and below it.” She stood and leaned closer to the hologram. “Mia, is there a janitor’s closet on eac
h floor?”

  “Very good.” Mia’s voice said gently, as a column of red blocks appeared in the building hologram. “There is even a janitor’s closet on the main floor.”

  “Cool.” Kelsoe exclaimed quietly.

  “I don’t understand.” Donovan injected.

  “Mia will set us down on the roof after disabling the roof alarms and the heavy ground to space energy cannons.” Kelsoe didn’t quite sound condescending. “From there we will cut down into the roof, and down into the building until we reach the…” She paused and frowned.

  “Seventeenth floor, out of thirty three.” Mia injected helpfully.

  “The seventeenth floor.” Kelsoe continued, more softly. “Then we will cut through the office walls to avoid the sensor filled corridor, until we reach the Transceiver. After that we will program the Transceiver with our message, setting it to broadcast as we exit the blockhouse. We can’t wait any longer in the event we’re discovered.”

  “Won’t that be noisy, with all those chunks of ceiling crashing down on the next floor?” Donovan asked, staring at the graphic.

  Kelsoe’s face fell. “I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe we could…”

  “That won’t be a problem.” Mia interrupted. “The original designers of this ship had ingenious mining equipment. Their drill is variable depth and width, and simply dissolves molecular bonds. The drill will reduce the ceiling to dust. I fabricated such a drill when I interned Aarlan’s body back on the Wrecker’s Moon.” Mia was suddenly standing at Kelsoe’s side, a warm comforting hand on her shoulder.

  The young woman sniffed. “Thank you Mia, for everything.”

  Mia raised her hand and gently touched Kelsoe’s cheek. “You are more than welcome, dear one.”

 

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