by Gun Brooke
The mini-jumper hummed through the tunnel system, not as fast as the regular ones, but at enough speed for Dodgmer to actually strap himself in. “Nobody’s going to help anyone if we crash into a tunnel wall,” he muttered as Adina barely scraped along the left side. “Creator, I’d already forgotten how you drive.”
“Ah, come on. We’re almost at the hospital’s jumper gate.” The lights alerting them about the gate flickered erratically. Slowing down, Adina pulled the mini-jumper to the side and let it hover a few moments near the exit while checking out the situation around the gate. The crowd gathered there was not agitated, but it was obvious that the blackout and subsequent transportation malfunction was having a direct effect. “Let’s go,” Adina said, and grabbed her tool kit. “Keep your sidearm ready.” While they stepped out of the mini-jumper, Adina opened a channel to security, requesting extra personnel. “People have become used to riots the last few years. Let’s make sure we don’t have one here.”
The hospital gate was heavily guarded. Adina and Dodgmer merely nodded at the ensigns flanking it. Hoping the guards weren’t the trigger-happy kind, Adina took in the scene in the lobby. Information staff had their hands full, and everywhere, extra lanterns cast a golden glow, so different from the bright, crisp light in the hospital.
“My team’s here.” Dodgmer waved the engineers over.
“Excellent. I have two other teams deployed throughout the hospital. We’re going to focus mainly on the children’s wards, the NICU in particular.”
“Aye, sir.” Dodgmer handed out assignments to his team, consisting of five men and three women, all in uniform.
“Using the elevators is bound to get us stuck in a shaft,” Adina said. “I’ll join my crew on the NICU floor.” She nodded toward the stairwell.
“My team’s already on its way up the stairs,” Dodgmer said. As he spoke, the voices outside became increasingly louder, and Adina hoped the added security details would arrive quickly. If concerned relatives decided to force the entrance, the guards in place wouldn’t stand a chance unless they began shooting. For any Oconodian soldier or law-enforcement officer to fire on their own kind was traumatizing. Adina knew of many who’d left their chosen profession after having to perform such a task.
“We better get going.” Adina strode toward the stairwell. No matter what took place on the first floor, her duty was to restore power and safety to the NICU units.
*
Nurse Lindemay hadn’t exaggerated. Apart from the handheld lights, the NICU wards were completely dark. Still, most of the occupants seemed calm and spoke in low voices, with the exception of a few people who called out in worry and fear. Judging from their echoing words, they were parents of the children cared for in these wards.
“Are you from engineering?” a firm voice asked, and a light shone in Adina’s eyes. “Commander Vantressa. I recognize you.”
Assuming this might be the nurse she had spoken to before, Adina held her hand up. “Mind pointing that somewhere else, Nurse Lindemay?” The light shifted instantly.
“Yes. Sorry. Do you know your way to the control consoles?” Lindemay flicked her light to the left side of the corridor.
“Yes.” Adina could distinguish the nurse now. Automatically she registered her average height, slight build, and reddish hair kept back with a broad headband. She wore the usual scrubs of indeterminable color. “Additional security officers will arrive shortly. From now on, each of the wards, individually, is on lockdown.”
“Lockdown? For a power outage?” Lindemay said, but seemed to change her mind. “All right. Sure. Just hurry up, all right?” She held up her other hand, demonstrating the oxygen tanks she was carrying. “These won’t last forever.”
“Got it.” Adina hurried toward the consoles kept in a small room. Everything in there was off-line. “How the hell did this happen?” she muttered as she began to rip off the plating to the circuitry and crystals placed there.
“No clue, sir.” Dodgmer was busy erecting work beams to give them enough light to see what they were doing.
Adina lifted off the tray holding the guiding crystals that ran every single calculation and operation of Pathfinder’s systems and gazed behind it. “What the hell?” She directed the beams toward the area farther into the console.
“Damn it. That’s not just any malfunction. Creator of Oconodos.” Dodgmer leaned in to feel one of the almost-liquefied circuits.
“Don’t. This is…something I haven’t seen in years.” Adina tapped her communicator. “Vantressa to Admiral Heigel.” She was about to repeat her hail when a somber voice replied.
“Heigel here, Commander. What are you doing to my ship?”
“Not much, sir. Yet. I need your input into what’s going on at the NICU wards on cube eleven. It’s bad, sir.”
“We’re on our way,” Heigel said, her voice as commanding and stern as it’d been when Adina had first met her twenty years ago. The word “we” hadn’t escaped her. It was clear Heigel was going to bring her spouse, Chief Anthropologist Meija Solimar. The two women had worked tirelessly together for the better part of their lives. Admiral Heigel was now close to seventy-five years old and Solimar a few years younger.
“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” Dodgmer said gravely. “As you’re calling in the woman who made this possible on the first day.”
“If I didn’t, it’d be a dereliction of duty on my part. This,” Adina said, gesturing toward the still-melting mess, “can destroy the entire cube unless it’s contained. And we need to double security. If I’m right, this is manmade.”
“Fuck.” Dodgmer engaged his communicator and ordered more security to the hospital and also to checkpoints at the open airlock to the surrounding cubes.
Adina donned protective gloves. Pulling out her scanner, she ran it from a distance. The readings turned out to be all over the place. “This doesn’t make sense, Lieutenant,” she said, tapping the screen. “I’m reading components that couldn’t possibly end up in there, unless…” She broke off and scanned closer to the melted circuits. “Unless this indeed is sabotage.” Adina stared at the readings. “I don’t believe this. Dodgmer, have your people evacuate the ward. We have to open every damn system console in the entire unit, but for now, we’ll work with this as unit zero.”
“On it, sir.”
Adina was headlong into the console when a loud exchange of voices reached her. “What the hell…?” She stood and strode into the corridor. Right in front of her, Dodgmer and Nurse Lindemay stood, toe to toe, the feisty nurse actually pressing a fingertip into Dodgmer’s vest.
“What about ‘it can’t be done’ don’t you understand, Lieutenant?” Lindemay said. “Some of the wall units are just that. Wall units. As in attached and unable to move around.”
“You need to evacuate the ward.” Dodgmer pointed toward the exit. “The area’s not safe.”
“What am I supposed to do? Put the premature babies in my pockets and run?” Lindemay flung her hands in the air, and from Adina’s point of view it was smart of the woman to stop poking Dodgmer.
“Move your staff and the children that aren’t attached to the wall.” Adina glared at the other two. “Ask for volunteers to help care for the remaining babies.”
“Actually, only two are fragile enough to require the non-mobile units. I’ll stay behind and ventilate one and—”
“Show me and I’ll take one,” Dodgmer said brusquely. “That way you free staff members to help out at the other units.”
Lindemay blinked. “Eh, all right. It’s pretty easy. Come on.” She motioned for Dodgmer to accompany her, and Adina returned to the console room. Approaching steps made her glance over her shoulder, and she was relieved when she spotted Admiral Heigel and Meija Solimar.
The former immediately knelt next to Adina. “Report.”
“I’ve completed two different readings.” Adina handed over her scanner. “It’s bad, sir. We’re looking at some sort of white-garnet compound.”
Heigel didn’t flinch, but her eyes snapped to meet Adina’s. “So. Sabotage.”
“Yes. There’s no way anyone would place anything so volatile anywhere in a hospital. White garnet is used as a lubricant around the magnetic tracks on the outside of the cubes. Well, I don’t have to tell you that, but—” Adina stopped, knowing she was stating the obvious to the woman who was in charge of designing these vessels.
“But it couldn’t possibly end up in here unless someone deliberately put it there.” Heigel looked up at her wife. “We need to bring the top brass into this. You’re the best person I know to be the liaison.”
“By that you mean my body count is lower than yours,” Meija Solimar said with a wry smile. “I’ll page the fleet admiral’s office and let him break the news to the president.”
“Thank you.” Heigel returned her gaze to Adina. “I suppose we’ve evacuated this ward?”
“All but two very fragile premature babies. A nurse and my next in command are tending to them. The rest of the patients and staff have moved into another unit. My teams are scanning every system console in this ward and will extend their search once they make sure they’re clear.”
“Instruct them to set their scanner to high sensitivity for white garnet.” Heigel sighed as she studied the hot mess inside the console. “And I don’t have to tell you how volatile this is. Nobody can touch it.”
Adina tugged at her communicator and relayed Heigel’s orders. “Mark anything you find and seal the plates in question so nobody opens them accidentally.” A steady fizzing sound interrupted Adina and she pivoted to glance at the molten components. Behind them, a light flickered steadily. “What the hell?” She leaned in further, vaguely registering Heigel’s words of caution. Somewhere in the back, a small row of tiny lights flickered rhythmically, and the sound was louder.
“Commander?” Heigel sounded concerned.
“You have to get out of here. Take the nurse and Dodgmer in the next room with you.” Swallowing against the sudden dryness in her throat, Adina forced herself to remain calm. “If the nurse gives you trouble, tell her I said it’s time to put the preemies in her pockets and run. We have an explosive device, and if I can’t disarm it—well, you know.”
“I do. I’ll be right back.” Heigel left before Adina had time to object. Again, she heard loud voices from the next room, but they quieted much faster this time, and as Adina scanned the device in the back of the console, Heigel returned.
“The nurse wasn’t happy, but she’s showing the lieutenant how to wrap the little shrimp of a baby he was ventilating in a blanket. She wasn’t sure they’d make it to the next ward, but they’re going to try.”
“All right. Now, sir, you need to follow them—”
“I’m not leaving. Let me have a look.” Heigel crawled forward and poked her head in next to Adina’s. “Damn, this is bad.” She flipped open a mini-scanner, clearly a prototype of some sort. “Let’s use this. It has some handy settings.”
“One of yours.” It wasn’t a question. Adina ran the scanner, keeping her gloved hand well away from the white-garnet meltdown. As she pulled it back, it began to beep. “Now what?”
Heigel looked at the readings as well. “If we don’t stop this, we’ll lose more than this ward. We could lose the entire NICU unit.” She donned protective gloves. “Visors on.”
Adina knew better than to waste time by trying to persuade the older admiral to leave, so she handed one visor to Heigel and put one on herself. “We’re going to have to use a double set of laser spanners. If the timing’s off by even a fraction of a sec, we’ll spend the last of our days as space dust.”
“I have no intention of widowing my wife.” Grabbing a laser spanner, Heigel switched it on. “Come on, Adina. Let’s do this.”
Adina nodded solemnly, knowing the success of the mission rested on their shoulders. She leaned into the console, adjusted the spanner, and set it to synchronize with Heigel’s. When the spanners began the countdown sequences, she counted her breathing at the same pace. As the last tone ended, Adina engaged the spanner and extended it toward the connection buds on the device. A clicking sound emanated as she and Heigel maneuvered it and, one by one, turned off the flickering lights. Once it was completely dark, they began to pull it out in the open.
Now, when it wasn’t attached near the white-garnet mess, Adina drew a deep breath. As they passed just above the melted components, another fizzing sound startled Adina and she flinched. Her lower arm rubbed briefly against the melted white garnet, and it permeated the glove within a moment.
“Oh!” The pain made Adina give a rare moan. “I’m going to drop it, sir. Take over!” The garnet was already burrowing through her skin and would soon hit her blood vessels. It might even burn her hand completely off. Either way, it would lead to a painful death.
Chapter Three
Briar stopped at the last intensive-care unit equipped on the ward. Her infant wasn’t breathing. “In here. We can’t go any farther.”
The burly man behind her didn’t respond. In fact, he was breathing into the tiny mouth and nose of the small boy he was cradling in his large hands.
“We’ll put them into the same incubator over here. If we stack as much of the equipment as we can between them and the explosives, we might stand a chance.”
Dodgmer and Briar pushed the listless babies into the incubator. To Briar’s relief, she saw several portable ventilator units sitting by the door. Grabbing them, she placed them over the faces of the children. Pressing the sensor that would determine the size and needs of each respective baby, she prayed to the Creator they weren’t depleted.
“Look. They’re working,” Dodgmer said, gasping.
Briar had already seen the sensor light turn blue, and her heart rate slowed marginally.
“Come on. Your idea wasn’t bad.” Dodgmer rushed toward the area holding cots and chairs, dragging them with him. Together they stacked the loose inventories around the incubator. At least the items wouldn’t fly against the children if Vantressa was unsuccessful.
“She’s quite something, your boss,” Briar said, pushing small mattresses in between the furniture and the incubator.
“We go way back,” Dodgmer said shortly. “If anyone can fix this, it’s her. Her and Admiral Heigel.”
“Heigel. I never thought I’d ever see her in person. She’s a legend.”
“Rightfully so.” Dodgmer stood with his back to the incubator. “Without her, I believe we’d still be on Oconodos.”
“Yeah.” Briar waited, expecting the blast to hit any sec. How much time had passed? What was going on?
Another minute passed, feeling like an hour. Then a cry of pain pierced the air. It was a female voice, and whoever it belonged to was in agony.
“All clear, but we need medical staff,” another female voice shouted.
“That’s the admiral calling. I should—”
“No. Watch the babies,” Briar said and ran toward the door. “You’re not medical personnel. I am. Stay with them. They’re all right as long as the light on the ventilators remains blue. Call for medical backup for them and for your boss.”
She didn’t wait to confirm. Running through the corridor, she had to slow down to allow her eyes to adjust to her flickering wrist light. She cursed the fact she wasn’t familiar with the layout of this unit. Briar looked frantically for an EM-kit. Just as she reached the door leading into the console room, she saw one attached to the wall right beside it. Snatching it into her arms, she dived into the room.
Curled up in a fetal position, Commander Vantressa was moaning and tears ran down her cheeks. Heigel was holding some strange-looking device and dipping into even weirder-looking green goo over and over.
“I can’t let go of this or it’ll detonate, but she needs help. She’s got white garnet on her arm.”
“Fuck.” Briar tore open the EM-kit. It held most things she might need in small quantities, and she hoped there was enough to neu
tralize the garnet. If it reached a major artery or, even worse, the commander’s bone marrow, it would be the end of their chief engineer. “I’ve got you, sir.” Briar flicked the lid of a can and reached for the arm Vantressa cradled against her chest. “Give me your arm. Quickly.”
“I can’t let go.” Vantressa’s voice, husky from pain, was barely audible.
Briar leaned forward and now saw what was happening. Vantressa wasn’t just clutching her arm because of the searing pain, but she was twisting the shirtsleeve to create a makeshift tourniquet. “All right. I understand. Just let me get in between there to pour this.” She rolled Vantressa a little more onto her back, steeling herself against the deep groan of pain her actions created. “I need to find where it hit you.” It didn’t take her long to locate the finger-long gash, growing deeper and darker by the sec. Careful not to waste any of the neutralizer fluid, Briar grabbed Vantressa’s hand and pulled it toward her. She poured the thick fluid into the blackening gash, not daring to take her eyes off the woman beneath her.
The cry emanating from Vantressa was barely human. It finally stopped, and a quick glance proved the commander had fainted. Briar hoped that was all it was. When the can was empty, Briar removed Vantressa’s grip on the shirtsleeve and made sure the blood flowed. She hoped there was enough neutralizer fluid in the gash to travel through Vantressa’s body. If the garnet had pierced a major artery or the lymphatic system, the commander would face an agonizing death.
“How is she?” Admiral Heigel asked, out of breath as she kept dipping the device into the solution before her. “Damn woman. She risked her life by doing what she did, but she saved the entire ward.”
Briar was busy attaching portable monitoring sensors to Adina’s chest. “If it didn’t penetrate too far, she’ll end up with an ugly scar. If it did…You know?”
“I do. Creator, she didn’t even hesitate to stick her hands into it and pull.”