by Gun Brooke
“It can’t be them,” Toplan said, looking puzzled. “They weren’t on board when the first charge was activated.”
“Damn, you’re right, Lieutenant.” Korrian sighed. “Look, the trace goes on, but barely visible.”
“The garnet molecules keep passing through the ship. Looks like the perpetrator is traveling through the jumper system trying to get as far away from the intended explosion as possible.” Adina pointed at the numbers reducing next to the diagrams.
“And there it wanes off completely.” Korrian stared at the location on the map where the track was no longer bright yellow. “That junction. Isn’t that the main library?” She squinted, rubbing her temple.
Adina cast a worried glance at Korrian. “Let me find out.” She looked at the coordinates and punched them into the computer. A bright spot ignited on the map. “It’s just outside the main library.”
“Think that’s their next target?” Korrian glanced at Toplan. “Lieutenant?”
“Not sure,” Toplan answered. “They’ve chosen such different places. The first one at the core of what most people would consider the softest of targets. The second at one of the hubs of our infrastructure. None of the charges big enough to incapacitate the entire ship, but obviously intended to spread terror and uncertainty. My superiors have followed your progress via the secure comm system. Measures are being taken.”
“What measures?” Adina asked.
“We’re going to compare your data from the new algorithms to the surveillance recorders and see if we can match this pattern with an individual. As for the rest, we need to discuss that later.” Glancing pointedly at the fifty-some engineers listening to their discussion, Toplan shook her head. “I will be able to brief you and the admiral in private, Commander. Nobody else.”
“Very well.” Adina turned to Dodgmer, who’d stayed in the background, running his station. “Take my station. I’m going to the security briefing and then on to meet with the president and the captain. Keep me posted on any changes.”
“Aye, sir.” Dodgmer calmly stepped into her console and began running new scans. “Sir, so far no major deposits of garnet on the scanners. We’ve covered forty percent of the ship as of now.”
“All right. Carry on.”
As they walked out of engineering to deal with the crisis at the higher levels, Adina was surprised as her mind detoured to Briar, wondering how her triaging was going. She made a mental note to call her later, when she had a moment.
*
Briar stepped into her quarters and frowned, as it was completely dark, except for the emergency light along the floorboards. “Caya?” she called out. “Hello?”
“Briar?” Caya whimpered from her private room.
“Lights on fifty percent!” Dropping her jacket on the floor, Briar hurried to her sister.
Curled up on her bed, Caya hugged her legs to her chest, her teeth clattering. “Briar it’s been…like this for so long. So long. The images, they just keep coming and coming.”
“Shh. I’m here.” Appalled at how cold Caya felt against her, she took a blanket and lay down next to her. Covering them both, she hugged the shivering girl close. “There. I have you now. Can you tell me?”
“I see this man, and he’s so angry, yelling, demanding, and calling the president a traitor. He’s…I’m not sure. He’s dressed in black and he’s half bald. The images stop for a moment and then they come back and you weren’t here and I couldn’t get through—” Her voice rose to a wail.
“Caya. Caya! Listen to me. I’m here now. Now that you’re telling me what you saw, the images usually stop, right? It’ll calm down. Don’t be afraid of what you see. Not when I’m here with you. You’re going to be all right. There. See?” Caya’s breathing was slowing little by little as Briar held her, rocking gently.
“He was literally frothing at the mouth as he yelled and almost chanted,” Caya said, yawning now. This often happened after a strong vision. Her system began to shut down, forcing her to rest.
“Did you recognize him in any way?”
“No…well, not really. I mean, he reminded me of, not someone. Something.” Caya hid her face against Briar’s neck. “I’m so glad you came home. I’d just gotten in the door after my friends walked me home, and the vision hit so hard. Perhaps my mind kept me from having it until it was safe for me? Do you think that’s possible? I mean, I just closed the door and boom.” Yawning again, Caya closed her eyes. “I think I have to sleep now.”
“It’s getting late anyway. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” Briar stayed where she was, holding the girl she loved more than anything. The visions had been very few after that first day. Caya had begun to relax, and Briar had hoped having the distance to their home planet increase could have something to do with the absence of visions. Clearly she’d jumped to conclusions and hoped Caya wouldn’t have another spell happen this way, this intensely, every time. If this happened in public, when Briar wasn’t there to help mask it as some sort of seizure, they could be found out.
Back on Oconodos some of the changers had taken strong psychotropic drugs to mask the manifestation of the mutated gene. Briar had never even contemplated the idea of subjecting Caya to that option, but if that was what it took to keep them safe, she wouldn’t think twice about stealing some from the hospital. They hadn’t come to that point, she told herself, but if… She wiped at the tears of fear and frustration running down her temples and into her hair.
A muted beep from her communicator made her get up, careful not to wake Caya, and walk out into the living room area. She pulled the communicator from her shoulder and placed it on the table. “Lindemay. Go ahead.” If this was the head nurse asking her in for an extra shift, she was going to claim having had a whole bottle of ale.
“Briar, Adina here. Are you home?”
For some unfathomable reason, the sound of Adina’s voice brought new tears on. “Adina. Hi. Yes, I am.”
“What’s wrong?” Adina sounded concerned.
“Oh, nothing. I mean, I’m tired. Just got home. Long night, lot of people needing help and comfort.”
“You sound like one of them. Are you upset?” Her voice had an awkward undertone, as if this was something Adina wasn’t used to asking anyone, but she seemed honestly interested.
“I—I am. A bit. So many terrified children and parents. Some got away from each other in the shuffle, and before the parents located their kids, they feared the worst. It was hard to witness. I’m used to dealing with worried parents, but they at least know exactly where their child is and what’s going on.”
“Yes, that’s true, of course.”
“What’s new at your end? Was it the same again? White garnet?”
“I’m afraid so. I’m only able to tell you this since you’re already in the loop, so to speak.” Adina sighed and Briar heard something fall to the floor. Adina’s shoes? Was she undressing? Briar figured she ought to do the same.
“Thank you for telling me. I suppose you had to spend the rest of the evening in engineering?”
“At first, yes. Then there were briefings with the brass. Took forever. Ow. Damn.”
“What?” Briar stopped taking her clothes off as Adina had sounded like she truly was in pain.
“Nothing. I seem to have pulled a muscle. Probably when we de-tracked. Nothing major. An old injury making itself known.” Adina chuckled joylessly.
“You should have someone look at that.” Briar got rid of the last of her clothes and placed them in the recycle slot under the clothes dispenser.
“Not necessary.” Adina might have thought she sounded too harsh, because she added, “Thank you, but I only need some ointment and heat. Honestly.” Her voice sank. “And rest. As do you. I shouldn’t have called and disturbed you.”
“I’m really glad you did, actually. I was hoping we would have another meeting soon, as this incident brings up new topics to discuss. Apparently what we talk about during the meetings reaches the president fairly qu
ickly.”
“Yes, I agree. I’ll take it up with Korrian when I see her. Maybe she can pull some strings and we can schedule one soon. Seems more important than ever to mitigate the fallout when it comes to the public’s reaction.”
“Yes, precisely.”
“You must be tired. I need to let you get some sleep.”
“That’s all right. This way, I can thank you again for the concert experience. Until the de-tracking, I had such a good time.”
The silence was so lengthy Briar was certain they’d been disconnected. “Adina?”
“I should be the one to thank you. Not only did you do something really nice for that elderly couple, but you also made the concert even more special for me. Sharing the experience did add to it.”
Briar smiled, feeling rather silly at just how wide her grin was. “You sound quite surprised, Commander,” she said, teasing.
“At the risk of sounding like a complete bore, I was. Still am, a bit. Now, I should let you go. I’m sure, like me, you’ll be back at work tomorrow.”
“Yes. I’m going to spend tomorrow on the Gemosian cube.”
“Take care.” Adina cleared her throat. “And Briar?”
“Yes?”
“Keep your eyes open.”
“I promise.” Thinking of Caya and her vision of the man in black, she truly meant it. “Good night, Adina.”
“Good night.”
As they disconnected and Briar stepped into the bathroom, she examined her reflection meticulously. Why was she blushing? Her pupils were larger than normal, and she felt oddly out of breath. She took pride in her people skills, as she worked with individuals who needed her to be sensitive to their reactions and problems. Now she was treading water and not sure why she responded like this to someone who seemed so very serious and closed off. Even the short interaction she’d witnessed between Adina and her large family had shown this woman wasn’t close to many people—if any. Possibly Korrian and Meija.
After her nightly ablutions she crawled into bed, leaving both hers and Caya’s doors open so she could hear if Caya had another vision. The last image before she fell asleep was of the several people she’d assisted during the evening who had one thing in common—calling her Red Angel. Too many to call it a coincidence.
Chapter Nine
**Briar Lindemay**
**NICU Nurse**
**Day 83**
**Exodus Operation**
**Professional log**
Logging off duty station four at NICU. Called to delivery unit six. Woman in premature labor showing signs of pre-eclampsia. Gestation week twenty-six. Surgeon and midwife plan for emergency fetal extraction.
**Logged Out**
The young woman was in serious condition. As soon as she entered the room, Briar could tell from the organized chaos that it was an all-hands-on-deck situation. She moved over to the station where the midwife would place the baby when it was extracted from the mother. She only had time to read the first few lines of information regarding their patient, learning that the fetus was male.
“It’s too soon! Stop doing this to us. Please! Ah!”
Briar pivoted, realizing the mother wasn’t sedated yet. In fact, the anesthesia team struggled to hold her convulsing body still. Knowing she was needed, Briar squeezed in between two people and helped hold down the shaking body of a very young woman. Black long hair had gotten loose from its cap and fell in wild curls toward the floor. Dropping down on one knee next to the woman’s head, Briar spoke directly into her ear to drown out the voices around them calling out medical orders.
“Hold still. We’re going to help you and your baby. I know it’s early, but I’m here to take care of your son and help him. That’s all I’m here for. Everyone else will take care of you, but I’ll be focusing on the boy.”
“He’s not going to make it.” The woman sobbed. “He’s so important to all of us and he’s going to die and they’re going to say…it’s my fault…and I want to hold…” Her voice waned as the anesthesiologist was able to finally sedate her.
“Poor girl.” Another nurse shook her head. “She was adamant from the start we shouldn’t touch her. She fainted in public and began convulsing.” She looked at Briar. “Good job calming her. You do have a way with the patients.”
The way she said it, sounding like what she’d witnessed confirmed something, confused Briar. Since she was on her way back to her station, she would follow up with the woman later.
Climbing up on a footstool, Briar followed the procedure she’d witnessed too many times. It wasn’t uncommon for Oconodian women to fall prey to toxic pregnancies. Their blood pressure spiked, and in some cases, like this one, where the mother either hadn’t told her midwife of her symptoms or the condition escalated unusually fast, the only way to save the mother was to extract the fetus. If the mother had passed the twenty-second gestation week, the baby might survive. Briar had seen younger babies pull through, but with lifelong disabilities and health issues.
Briar saw that the staff had the extraction well in hand and cast a new glance at the chart on the wall screen at her station. The mother was only nineteen years old and her name was Zoma Vantressa. “Oh, shit.” So this was one of the vast Vantressa clan, the people she’d noticed that Adina avoided and didn’t even want to talk about. Who could this be? A sister? Sister-in-law? Cousin? Didn’t matter. This young woman was Adina’s kin, and they were going to contact the father of the child if he was aboard. Briar read more, noticing that the father’s name was Agand and he was ten years older than his wife.
“Anybody get ahold of the father?” Briar asked nobody in particular.
“He and some family members are on the way,” the nurse who had spoken to Briar just before said. “He sounded totally panicked. I tried to tell him we were taking care of her, but…” The nurse shrugged. “You know. It’s the woman he loves and their first child. I’d be panicked too.”
“Here’s the little boy now,” the surgeon said, holding the child carefully before handing him over to the midwife, a middle-aged bear of a man.
“Here we go,” the midwife said and hoisted the child into Briar’s station. She quickly wrapped warmth-infusing towels around the frail little body and pulled the suction device from the wall. Gently she freed the boy’s narrow airways of amniotic fluids and mucus. At the same time, the midwife scanned him, nodding with a growing smile.
“Good, strong heartbeats. Breathing easing up. Lungs clear on both sides.”
The automatic heater kept the towel dry around the boy, but Briar thought the material looked too rough around the semi-transparent little body and exchanged it deftly to a softer one. She could sense the child’s distress and bent over him, whispering, “You’re going to be all right, little man. Your mother and father can’t wait to meet you. That’s right. You need to keep breathing and stay strong so they can see what a good boy you are.”
Big, blurry eyes, nearly amber-yellow, looked up at Briar, blinking slowly. Briar guessed he would need lung support but hoped his oxygen status would remain at the preferred levels.
“His breathing’s stabilizing. Maybe he heard you,” the midwife said, chuckling. “He’s very cute, isn’t he? Some preemies look like little birds, but he’s just a very small, cute baby.”
“He sure is.” Smiling tenderly at the child, Briar caressed his little cheek, the only thing on him that held any subcutaneous fat.
“I think we can let the father in,” the midwife said. “Have you closed over there?”
“Yes, we’re in the process of bandaging. She’s a young girl, so the derma fusion went very fast,” the surgeon said. “She won’t have much of a scar.”
The midwife went over to a door at the far end of the room and opened it. She spoke quietly at first, but after a moment, she raised her voice enough for Briar to hear. “No, madam. There’s no way I can let anyone but the father in at this point. This is an operating theater. The father is allowed, as he needs to bond with his ch
ild. As the boy’s grandmother I’m sure—”
“You obviously don’t know who I am,” a stern voice said, sounding vaguely familiar. “This is my grandchild. He is doubly valuable to us as he’s a boy and it’s been our tradition, a much-revered custom, for the matriarch to claim the child as part of the Vantressa family.”
Adina’s mother. “For the love of the Creator,” Briar murmured. Glancing around, she spotted the anesthesiologist, the only other person in the room able to care for the boy in a secure manner. “Doctor?” she said, getting his attention. “Can you keep an eye on the Vantressa boy while I help over there?” She motioned with her chin at the midwife, who now seemed flustered and at a complete loss how to deal with the Vantressa matriarch.
“Sure.” He hurried over and began running scans.
Briar strode toward the midwife, who now was standing like a ramrod in the doorway. “What’s going on?” Briar asked, even if she knew.
“I’m having some difficulties explaining hospital policy to Madam Vantressa.” The midwife looked like she might explain further when the tall, dark-haired woman standing next to a handsome man cut in.
“I’m Shabina Vantressa,” she said regally, as if that explained everything. “I demand to see my grandson. I’ve tried to tell this person, but she refuses to recognize the importance of the traditions our family upholds.” Adina’s mother stabbed a finger in the air toward the midwife.
“Madam Vantressa,” Briar said, politely but firmly. “I can understand just how worried the child’s father is, and how you as his mother and the boy’s grandmother want to help. As far as having family traditions goes, I’m afraid they’re going to have to be slightly postponed until the little boy has time to acclimatize. Right now it’s all about the needs of the child and of your daughter-in-law. I’m sure you agree that if we jeopardize their well-being, all the traditions will go out the airlock anyway.” Briar held out her hand to the man. “You’re Agand, right? Have you gone through the decontamination tube?”