by P J Strebor
He walked on, fascinated by the layered, rainbow effect that stared back at him from the steep walls. As he ventured deeper into the gully, the initial feeling of trepidation increased. He put the feeling down to the unexpected nature of his new environment, until the spot on his upper spine, directly between his shoulder blades, began to ache. It started with a twinge, like a mild electric jab, but as he continued into the arroyo it began to burn with ever increasing intensity. He ignored it, putting the feeling down to a probable pinched nerve. However, along with the pain between his shoulder blades came a feeling of extreme uneasiness that permeated the rest of his senses. He found the combination of the two elements difficult to ignore. He tensed, surveyed the area and drew an arrow onto his bowstring. He could see no discernible danger yet the feeling of impending doom felt so palpable that he began backing out of the gully, watchful to any change around him.
At the lip of the arroyo he stood and surveyed the area with a critical eye. The gully seemed quiet and peaceful, nothing moved and no sign of danger reared its head. The restless turmoil had vanished from his mind and his backache had disappeared.
"Nitwit," he mumbled to himself and turned to leave.
The air suddenly split by the sound of a great crack like the splintering of a mighty tree. Nathan spun around in time to see the east face of the gully collapse and tumble in a great avalanche of fractured earth and stone onto the floor of the arroyo. Time and natural forces of weather and erosion had undermined the wall, and its time had finally come.
He stood transfixed to the sight of destruction for several minutes before returning to the ship. It took days for him to come to terms with the phenomenon and to appreciate that he owed his life to the gift. In the next two years the same premonition pain, (Prep, as he came to call the bizarre phenomenon) had been responsible for saving his life on more than one occasion. Delos had proved time and again to be an extremely unforgiving place and he had little doubt that without Prep he may not have survived his time there.
Although he had no idea how the Prep manifested itself, he determined that he would never again question his odd premonitions of danger. It remained as the greatest mystery of his young life. However, having been treated as a freak by people because of his intelligence, he knew enough not to share knowledge of the Prep with anyone else. Fate had granted him a second chance at life and above all else, he determined not to play the part of outsider again.
The Prep had proved to be a friend and ally, but like an embarrassing malady, one he resolved to keep to himself.
Nathan gazed at the planetoid Mylor that swam in the center of his screen.
Since arriving in orbit, the screaming pain in his back, warned him that danger lurked within that dark foreboding place.
According to his brief research, Mylor orbited the system as close to the system aphelion as anybody could be, without actually leaving the system all together. He began to long for the warm opened skied world that he had so recently escaped from.
Nathan looked away from the planetoid but the feeling of impending doom remained as strong as ever. He felt powerless to do anything about his situation. A small part of him regretted his natural curiosity that had impelled him to investigate the tiny world that would soon become his new prison. Not for the first time, since coming aboard Impudent, had his inquisitive nature lead him into trouble.
Ten days ago, thirty-three-days into their journey, he managed to tweak the computer into giving him access to the outside scanners. Nathan had a vague suspicion that he should not be overriding the security lock outs but could not help himself. What possible harm could it do? He waited until Gabby had put her head down for a nap before commencing his task. His first indication that his indiscretion had been discovered came with a rumble.
"Ensign Gabreski, wake up," Captain Bradman bellowed.
Gabby sprung from her rack as though hit with a bucket of icy water. Nathan turned off the feed and jumped out of his chair. The captain stood on the other side of the transparent observation panel, his furious expression threatening to melt the four centimeter thick composite window.
"Yes, captain," Gabby said, blinking away the sleep from her eyes.
"What's going on?"
"Sir?" Poor Gabby looked totally flummoxed.
Bradman glanced lazily at Nathan before returning his attention to Gabby. "You are supposed to be supervising the boy, ensign." Gabby glanced down at Nathan for a moment then her shoulders slumped.
"Sorry sir," she said. "What has he done now?"
"Your young charge has tied into the external scanners," he rumbled. "Did you tell him he could do that?"
"No sir."
"Why did you show him how to tie into the scanners, ensign?"
"I didn't, sir."
He turned his glaring attention back to Nathan who made the mistake of thinking that the same boyish smile that charmed the rest of the crew would work on the captain. Bradman's mouth tightened, his glare intensifying until Nathan's face fell
"Are you telling me, ensign, that this boy got past our security lock outs by himself?"
Gabby looked as though she might be sick at any moment.
"Gabby didn't know about it, captain," Nathan said. "I just wanted to observe the transition back from hyper space. I didn't think it would do any harm." He swallowed deeply but to his credit maintained eye contact with Bradman. Gabby winced with each word as though nails were being driven into her toes.
"Ensign Gabreski, I would be obliged if you would keep a closer eye on the boy in future."
"Aye, skipper," she said, straightening her stance as well as she could within the tight confines.
"And as for you young Mister Telford, from here on, if you wish to engage in extracurricular activities whilst aboard my boat, you will ask permission. No more hacking into our systems. Is that clear?"
Nathan snapped to attention. "Aye-aye, skipper."
Just for a moment the hard line of the captain's mouth softened. He nodded once to Nathan gave Gabby a curious look then turned to leave.
"Captain Bradman?"
"Yes?"
"Sir, I request permission to observe the next transition."
This time the captain's granite features began to melt in what appeared to be a most uncustomary way. His mouth warped as he struggled to suppress a smile. He glanced at Gabby, his head shaking slowly. Kneeling down brought him eye to eye with Nathan.
"Do you give me your pledge that you will keep out of restricted areas of the boat's data base?"
"Aye, skipper," he said. "Unless I receive permission."
"Very well. I give you permission to observe the transition." Bradman left the observation room with haste.
Nathan got to observe the boat's transition from normal space to hyper space. He felt light and awed by the experience and not surprisingly attacked the boat's library in search of everything he could find on the subject.
Having given the captain his word, he patiently observed the rules. His acceptance of the situation prompted the skipper to grant him unrestricted access to the outside scanners.
He removed the ugly picture of Mylor from the screen and tied into the stern scanners. Tsunami maintained her close vigil, dead astern. Would one Monitor Corps boat really fire on another? Because of him?
What of Mylor? If his aching back could be believed, and it could, Nathan dreaded his forthcoming transfer to that dark rock.
CHAPTER 9
Time: 28th November, 311 (ASC).
Position: ANS Bio Deterrent Research facility. Planetoid Mylor. Arcadian System. Status: Research ongoing.
Within the confines of the large, well-appointed office, Lt Cmdr Spotiswood sat across from the professor, his hands clenched firmly in his lap.
"You have seen the test results?" Professor Knightsbridge asked.
He nodded sharply.
"Can you explain results like that? We have given him every test in the book, then
made up some to see where it would lead and we are still in the dark."
"Very well, I will ask again," Spotiswood said. "Is he a product of genetic engineering?"
Did the Pruessen's experiment on him during his years of enslavement?
"I do not know,” the professor said, showing his impatience. “If he is the result of GE then it is at a level of sophistication well beyond our ability to understand. What I have been able to establish however, is that there is a dormant strain in his genetic structure. It could remain dormant forever or prove to have no useful application. Or it could become active, today, tomorrow, next week next year. There is no way of knowing."
"So, what do you propose to do?"
"Do?” the professor said. "We keep him here and do more tests and more tests until we figure out what makes him tick."
Spotiswood folded his hands in front of him and stared at the professor. “Or Kill him.” A raised hand was all it took to stop Knightsbridge’s reply. “You’ve done every test you can think of and you have nothing.”
“I resent —”
“I haven’t finished, Professor. Do you think I don’t know what goes on in this facility? Why did you cut off his heating and serve only cold food?” Knightsbridge shifted in his chair. “Well?”
"He refused to cooperate with us," he finally said with a shrug. "Some discipline was required. He was interfering with the work."
Spotiswood sat back in his chair and stared at the Professor, who refused to meet his eyes.
“I am relieving you of all responsibilities regarding this project, forthwith."
"You cannot do that. He is unique. He could be —"
"He could be dead if I leave him in your hands for much longer. And Professor," Spotiswood said coldly, "don't ever tell me what I can and cannot do. The boy is an asset of the ANSIO Special Projects Division. We only let you borrow him to find out about the plague, which you have failed to do. ”
"Very well, Commander Spotiswood,” he said stiffly, “let it be on your head then." He stood, turned on his heel and marched from the room.
Spotiswood let the tension out in a sigh. He’d come so close to lashing out. As an absolute certainty he would never allow Knightsbridge anywhere near the boy again. He shook his head, thinking of what the lad had been through.
Nathan had stopped answering their questions three months ago, in protest against his treatment. The professor had retaliated against him as he would against a new strain of infection. Still the lad refused to buckle under to the abuse and increased his active resistance to every attempt to test him. He fought his one sided war with no chance of relief, within an environment not of his choosing, against odds he had no chance of winning against. It had cost the young fellow dearly, but although he had not won the battle he had not lost the war either. He has guts, that’s for sure.
Spotiswood slapped both hands against his knees, stood and strode from the office, walking briskly to the containment area.
As he stepped into the room the chill struck at him. The boy lay on the bunk like a mannequin with the stuffing knocked out of it. His forearm lay across his eyes and under the light blanket his chest barely moved.
Spotiswood grabbed a nearby chair and sat beside the single bunk. The boy did not move except for a single shiver.
His difficult time on Mylor had drastically changed the robust, brown shinned youngster he had last seen four months ago. He looked terrible. Pale and sickly, he had lost considerable weight.
"Nathan, sit up please," Spotiswood said. "I need to speak with you."
***
After what felt like a lifetime, the man returned. He wore the uniform of an Athenian Naval Service Intelligence Organization officer, and carried the rank of lieutenant commander. Nathan had not seen him in such a long time, but remembered the eyes, sharp and dark like a Delosian hawk.
"Nathan, sit up please. I need to speak to you."
Nathan pushed himself up by sliding his back along the wall beside his bunk. The commander's eyes were a little less hawk-like than he remembered. He struggled to keep his eyes open.
"I am going to take you away from this place. Would you like that?"
Nathan's mind struggled to properly comprehend the words. So he gave what he hoped was a positive shrug.
"I’ll take that as a yes. I can place you almost anywhere. Do you have a preference?"
He dragged his eyes up to meet the intelligence officer. "Warm. And doctor free."
"I'll see what I can do."
Nathan thought he saw something like a fleeting smile. Then the hawk returned.
"But you need to do something in return. Nathan, look at me." With a start Nathan realized he had begun to fade out. "This is very, very important. As you may know your physiological tests show absolutely no contagion to the plague and no discernible reason for your natural immunity. You are simply a one in a billion chance who lucked out. What? You need to speak up, Nathan."
"I said, all for nothing."
The commander nodded slowly before continuing. "Yes. But the point is, you are the only person to have survived exposure to the plague. Do you know what that means?"
"I'm really lucky?"
"You're an intelligent young man so I shan’t mince words. You must not, under any circumstances, tell anyone about Delos. There are people who will stop at nothing, to get their hands on someone who has a proven immunity to the plague. Nothing!" Spotiswood paused but kept his eyes locked onto Nathan. "If you tell anyone about this, there are people who will go to any lengths to get to you. They will kill anyone who stands in their way. And when they acquire you they will do things to you that will make the last four months seem like a party. Do you understand what I’ve said?"
He understood all right and he also sensed Hawkeye had chosen to leave something unsaid. For now, he only wanted to escape from this hellish place.
"I understand." He pulled the blanket around him. "All right, I give my pledge never to mention anything about myself to anyone. Can I go now?"
"Go where? You’re an orphan. I can see to it that you are farmed out to foster care if you like, or I could offer you an alternative."
"Alternative?"
"You could work for me. You will get the very best training and although it will be hard, I believe you are sufficiently motivated to pass the tests. This is covert work requiring total dedication to the task. It will also be an opportunity for you to honor your family obligation."
"What would I be expected to do?"
"We can talk about the details later. You have a unique gift that could be very valuable to my organization, and in return for your service you will, on the odd occasion, get to kill some Pruessens. Interested?"
Killing Pruessens sounded like a very good way to spend the rest of his life. The temptation lasted only a moment. Nathan had given his father his pledge and that pledge would always have priority over his personal desires. He would never forget his father’s words: Nathan, if the worst should happen and you find yourself alone, seek out Caleb Penkovsky, on Kastoria. He’s the best man I know. He can be trusted.
"I would like to send a communication,” Nathan said. “Is that possible?”
***
Spotiswood had given the boy two days to rebuild his strength and savor the richness of life. Nathan lay by the pool soaking up Arcadia’s late spring sunshine. The commander stepped onto the patio and took a seat beside him. Nathan lay on his back, his eyes closed, his face relaxed.
“Good morning, Nathan.”
He opened his eyes.
“Any word yet?” he asked.
“I told you not to expect a reply for at least a week. At this distance it may take longer.” His communication to Kastoria was not what Spotiswood had hoped for.
Nathan examined him skeptically when he handed him the reader pad.
“What’s this?”
“You need to read and thoroughly memorize every word.”
/> Nathan’s eyes dropped to the pad and he began reading. Occasionally he would glance at Spotiswood with hatred. After ten minutes he tossed it back.
“All right, I’ve read it.”
“Good. In about a week you will be interviewed by the news nets. They will ask you a great many questions and you will answer to the best of your ability.” He held up the pad. “Using this information only.”
Nathan snatched the pad back and scrolled through it.
“Bellinda was attacked by some unknown element, possibly northern pirates. My knowledge of the next six years is vague due to my injury. I was examined by doctors on the rehabilitation planetoid of Mylor,” he stared at Spotiswood with hatred and disgust in equal measure, “who told me the blow to my head, probably caused during the attack, and my general trauma had caused amnesia. I recall being cast into slavery along with my immediate and extended family but to the best of my recollection this was done without the knowledge of the Pruessen government.” He shook his head. “I recall us escaping and fleeing south. A ship, possibly a pirate attacked Bellinda. I recall nothing after that until I awoke onboard a Athenian warship. Bellinda had been destroyed, my family lost and I alone survived in the rescue pod I was found in.” He stared at Spotiswood, bewildered. “Why?” He looked as if he would vomit at any moment.
“Your father was right. If word of your experiences in the north was to emerge it would cause public outcry. It could lead to war with Pruessen.”
“Good!”
“Athens will do anything to avoid war in the Quarantine Zone. That’s the political reality, so get used to it.”
“It’s all a lie.”
“Yes it is.”
“I won’t do it.”
“You will do it, Nathan, or you’ll spend the rest of your life on Mylor.” Oh, look at the fear on his face. That’s got his attention. “You’ll grow old and never see the sky again. Never see a Pruessen, let alone kill one. And if Professor Knightsbridge had his way you won’t last six months.” Spotiswood gave him a moment to digest the horror story. He would not hesitate to honor his threat. There was more at stake than the concerns of a teenage boy.