Book Read Free

USS Kepler Dawn

Page 10

by Gerald Lane Summers


  Captain Hollenbeck turned to his computer station. “Computer, this is the captain. Lock the ship down and inform everyone to remain in their quarters or their workplace until further notice. I also need to know the whereabouts of Cadet Buryl Boggs right now. He has become a danger to the ship.”

  “Scanning. Cadet Boggs is now in the forward lounge. He just evaded the lockdown by two seconds. He appears agitated and is carrying a knife.”

  “Alert the Marine guards now searching for him and tell them where he is.”

  “In progress. The Marines are heading there now.”

  The captain got up, “Let’s get over there. Maybe we can keep him from hurting anyone else. We can take the short cut just down the corridor from here.”

  We all ran out the door, Colonel Lipscomb outrunning us all. He reached the shortcut door and tried to open it. It was locked, no doubt in accordance with the captain’s order.

  “Computer, this is Colonel Lipscomb,” he said into his direct com-link. “Unlock the short-cut door to the lounge, door number forty two.”

  I could hear the clank of the door seal release and Lipscomb immediately pushed his way through it. We came out on the other side just behind the bar and saw Buryl standing on the dance floor in the middle of the lounge. He was wild-eyed, swinging a large Bowie-type knife around and looked to be completely mad. Foam was flying from his mouth as if he’d contracted some dread disease. One of the bartenders had an old style aluminum baseball bat in his hands and was advancing on Buryl who was yelling at him to stand back. There were about ten people in the lounge huddled in a far corner, trying to stay away from Buryl. One of them was Miki.

  When Buryl saw us, he started screaming unintelligibly, turned and ran toward the group of cowering patrons. I did not hesitate. Colonel Lipscomb was yelling at me to get back. Screw that. Buryl had killed once and I was not going to let him do it again, especially with Miki as his obvious target.

  For some reason, he did not turn back toward me as I rushed him. Apparently he had not considered anyone would be so foolish as to risk being stabbed. Just before I reached him, he twisted half way around and managed to slash backhanded at my belly. He hit me just above the navel and I did not feel it. Blood was all over my uniform shirt. Fortunately, as it turned out, it was not a deep slash wound and he’d been too late to make it any worse.

  Out of nowhere and much to my surprise, Miki advanced out of the huddled group and used a karate kick to Buryl’s left knee. He collapsed on that side. I lowered my head, rushed and head butted him solidly on the jaw. He went down flat on the floor.

  After I got up, I kicked him for good measure, just as hard as I could on the left ear. The patrons, who had not fled, moaned loudly at that violent act. It was a perfidious reaction if there ever was one. The bastard was trying to kill them and it seemed perfectly appropriate to me at that moment.

  My big toe screamed in pain and I knew it would hurt for more than a few days. Shortly after my kick the bartender whacked Buryl n the right knee with his bat. The crack was loud enough to turn stomachs. No one groaned over that.

  As I stood over Buryl, I noted his eyes lolling around, totally unfocused. Foam was still coming out of his mouth. It dawned on me he might have taken some kind of drug, or had had a seizure. If that was it, it was just too damned bad. I was about to kick him again when the captain and Colonel Lipscomb grabbed me.

  Miki ran to me, tears streaming down her face. She had been terrified, but had had the good sense to defend herself and her friends. Two other girls in the group were crying, as was one of the colonists holding tightly to his girlfriend. The bartender was preparing to whack the downed maniac again and Colonel Lipscomb stopped him.

  Several Marines burst through the door, just seconds too late to get in on the brawl. I felt sorry for them. They’d been training for instances like this and no doubt would have loved to bash someone, anyone’s, head in.

  Colonel Lipscomb called for medics and a report on the first victim. It turned out she had been badly wounded and was thought dead because she had gone into cardiac arrest. A paramedic had somehow arrived in time and was still working on her. They thought now that they would be able to save her. The newly developed rapidly functioning hyper-stem cells were capable of repairing massive damage in short order. In addition to the stem cells, they had injected her with nano-bots capable of physically delivering medicines precisely where needed and surgically repair almost any internal injury while at the same time stimulating the body’s ability to produce blood cells.

  I related this to Miki and she insisted on going immediately to the apartment she’d shared with her sister, Mary. I decided I would escort her there. She was shaking like a leaf and I had to hold her as we hurried off.

  When we arrived, Mary was just being removed on a robotic anti-grav gurney. Paramedics were standing on its two running boards as it headed off for the ship’s surgery. Another paramedic was cleaning up after them in the cabin. He said they had been able to get Mary’s heart going again and she was breathing well.

  As the gurney pulled away, I noted the paramedics on the running boards doing their own thing with bloody napkin-like cloths flying everywhere. Forceps were sticking up out of the wounds, each no doubt clamping an artery. It was a mess and I felt the threat of upchuck again. Someday it was going to get out of hand and I kept thinking of ways to get my mind around it. I had no desire to have anyone see me barfing just because of a little blood.

  A screeching alarm was putting out a high pitched wail as the self-propelled directionally programmed machine zipped away, warning people of its presence as it approached every corner.

  No hospital was complete, I was told, without plenty of turns, elevators and swinging doors. I hated being near them and only rarely visited the ship’s medical facility. There was something about the place that gave me the willies. And then there were the robots, waiting their turn at the body, their nano-size components and chip-sets no doubt salivating, finally getting to do what they were designed to do. I didn’t want to go with them and then looked back at Miki. She was coming apart. I was afraid she’d go down if I did not stick with her. I rushed back to her and enclosed her with a tight hug.

  Buryl was transported on a similar anti-grav gurney, restrained in handcuffs and security straps to the scan room where his brain was to be examined. Two Marines accompanied him. I made sure they understood he should not be allowed near the room where Mary was being treated.

  Finally, a team of neurosurgeons came in to take over Buryl’s care. I advised them to contact the captain and let him know immediately when they were able to come up with a diagnosis.

  The paramedic, who had initially treated Mary and had no doubt saved her life, came up to us and pulled us both aside. He was broad shouldered, very muscular and dressed in striped scrubs with a pullover head cover. Blood stains were spotted all over the front his clothes.

  “I hate to have to tell you this,” he said. “Buryl forcibly raped Mary before he’d tried to kill her. If there is any justice on this ship, he will be put away for the duration, if not to death.”

  Miki asked him if he had been first on the scene.

  “Yes,” he said. “It was fortuitous. I was just off duty and heading for the lounge for a beer when I saw Buryl Boggs come out of your family’s compartment. He had blood all over him and took off running when he saw me. I looked in and almost fell over. At first I thought Mary was dead, and then my training kicked in. I was able to stabilize her and call the ER techs immediately. By the time they arrived, she was breathing again and her heart rate was up. I knew then we’d be able to save her.”

  Miki gave the man a hug and thanked him profusely. I shook his hand and as our grip broke, he looked down at my belly. “Sir, you’ve been injured. There is much blood on your shirt and its running down your leg.”

  I’d forgotten all about the slash wound. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  “Come with me,” the man said. “We’ll get
you patched up.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Just don’t let one of those damned robots get their claws on me. I’ll be having bad dreams for months.”

  Chapter 17

  After the hoopla settled and the doctors had my wound patched, I left Miki to stay with her sister and explained that I had to change clothes and return to the captain’s office.

  As strange as it might sound, I was relieved. Buryl’s violent actions pretty much took the decision of what to do with him out of my hands. The only thing left was to notify Commander Boggs of the situation. From there, it would be up to the board of trustees to decide what to do. They would no doubt order Buryl detained, file charges and order a trial in accordance with the ship’s constitution.

  As soon as we sat down to discuss the events of the day, Captain Hollenbeck asked if I would contact Commander Boggs and explain the situation to him. I had not expected that. Nevertheless, I could not see myself refusing the captain anything. It made a certain bit of sense, I suppose … since I knew more about the peripheral facts of the situation than anyone else. I may have noticeably sagged before answering. Still, there was nothing I would not do for Captain Hollenbeck and he knew it. Shit.

  Since I did not have an office of my own, I elected to make an appointment with Commander Boggs to meet him wherever he chose. Of course, he was constantly on the move and difficult to reach. I finally located his aide, sometimes referred to as a gofer, valet or as in the British system, a ‘batman.’ In the U.S. Army, they were called, “dog robbers.” Normally such aides were available only to flag rank officers, fleet admirals and such and since Kepler Dawn did not have one of those on board, the captain and full commanders were allowed to have aides up to the rank of first lieutenant. Captain Hollenbeck did not choose to appoint one or take a qualified officer away from some other duty. I thought it commendable, although I could see the value in following the captain around as his duties demanded. I’d have loved such a job and even more, though it was clearly a bit early for me to be thinking of running the entire ship.

  First Lieutenant Plantagenet, serving as Commander Boggs’s aide, opened the door to the engineer’s office and invited me in. The commander was behind his desk in a leather-back office chair, the type with adjustable powered supports that allowed for constant changes as needed. They were great if you had a bad back, and in looking at him I judged that not likely.

  Commander Boggs was, like the captain and Colonel Lipscomb, tall and stout with a darkish complexion and darker brown hair. He was dressed in newly pressed perfectly tailored whites with his cap resting casually on the desk. The office was filled with digital equipment of all kinds, computer access ports, video screens and communications gear. Apparently he had already learned of Buryl’s activities. There was no other way to explain the grim look on his face.

  I stepped in front of his desk, removed my cap, placed it under my left arm and introduced myself. “Ensign Andy Kelso, sir, reporting as ordered by Captain Hollenbeck. I am here to explain the circumstances surrounding your son Buryl’s recent activities and why he is now confined in the hospital security room … for medical examination.”

  “Why isn’t the captain here?” Boggs asked with a bit of peeve in his gruff voice. His jaw muscles were flexing as if he had suddenly become angry. “Why send a kid, still wet behind the ears to explain that my son is now up on murder charges?”

  I stiffened to attention. “Sir, your son is not now charged with murder or even attempted murder. Indications are that he has had a breakdown of some kind. He may well be charged in the future, though at the moment he is being treated as a psychiatric patient. If he is found to be insane or temporarily so when he attacked Mary Sakura, he will not be charged. He will be treated until he is cured. As for why the captain chose me to report this to you, I cannot say for certain. I think he knows you are already familiar with the events and if you needed clarification, I would be the proper one to explain it. The reason for that is because I appear to have played a role, from Buryl’s point of view, in his violent behavior.

  “How is that?” the commander asked as he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk.

  “I don’t fully understand it, sir. I can only tell you of the sequence of events as I experienced them. It started the day of our ascension. He thought Miki Sakura, who he’d been pursuing for some time, would choose him as her partner. She chose me instead and has not told me why. I still don’t know for sure, although we had known each other closely since we were children.

  Some weeks later, Buryl threatened to get back at me for stealing her away from him and also undercutting him for valedictorian. He even accused my father of interference in the process and then started a slander campaign against Miki. Every student on board was aware of it, as was I. We had words about it and I then challenged him to a boxing match. I’m sure you are aware of that event. Most of the ship watched it on the video screen. Buryl may have suffered a brain injury in that fight. He was put on concussion protocol and after observation and numerous tests; the medical team concluded he had not suffered permanent injury.

  Several days after the event, he managed to gain possession of your plasma pistol and fired it at me in the main corridor. If you look closely, you can still see where it frizzled my hair.”

  I turned my head to show him the damage done. He gave it a quick glance and then turned away. It was difficult for me to grasp that he might not care, although I could see it was one of the possibilities. My suspicion was that his concern was with his own son, not me, and that made perfect sense.

  “It took some time for CID to conclude that Buryl had committed the crime and it was confirmed by the AI computer’s factual analysis. It took time because he’d used your office monitoring portal to eliminate our images from the records. In the process of trying to figure out how he’d done that, we discovered five other portals designated for your use. It was finally determined that he had not used any of those five. You, on the other hand, had used your own portal to monitor him for some reason the same day. At any rate, DNA on the pistol and on your safe finally confirmed his involvement.”

  Boggs stiffened and his eyes became slits.

  “So, the captain knows of the monitoring portals?”

  “Yes, he knew of the one in your office and discovered the others, five besides the two you each use, during the investigation. The one Buryl used was here in your office. As for the others, the captain assumes they were installed during construction under your watch and were designed to assist you in your duties. It makes perfect sense, although I did get the impression he was surprised there were more than two. The AI computer confirms their existence and defines the purpose to be for you to monitor all of the ship’s equipment from anywhere you might be. A chief engineer would surely have a need for such a system and the captain was surprised his own memory had not recalled the photonic design. He attributes it to the various and diverse duties you were each performing at the time of construction. Is he wrong about that?”

  Commander Boggs twitched at this question. It was obvious he did not want to answer. I suspected from his tone when he did answer, that he did not think the captain was being honest in all this. So, I tried to smooth it over.

  “Sir, you must not think the captain believes you have done anything wrong. From my observation, he thinks you are more akin to God than anyone on the ship. And, regardless of what went on before Buryl lost his mind and attempted to kill Mary Sakura, that he did it is an indisputable fact. He came into the lounge after he had left Mary and tried to kill Miki. There were many witnesses, including the captain, Colonel Lipscomb and myself. I care little of the pistol incident because it did me no harm other than a rather sharp fright. The knife attacks I care a great deal about. In fact, he slashed me across the belly to prevent me from stopping him.”

  I stepped back, assumed a brace, and asked the commander if he had any further questions of me.

  He sat back in his chair, his mouth twisting arou
nd as if looking for a comfortable position. “Do you think you may have caused Buryl to go insane?”

  I did not answer instantly; rather I paused at the audacity of the question. My voice was no doubt operating at a higher frequency when I answered.

  “Sir, I am not a psychiatrist. I do know I had no control over Buryl nor did I ever suggest he threaten to get even with me for something Miki Sakura had done. So, other than the fact that I may have injured him in the boxing match, I cannot see how any of this could be my fault. And, from statements made by the medical department, Buryl did not have a notable or lasting injury from the fight. They thought at first he might have suffered a concussion, although several scans disproved this. There was no hematoma or internal bleeding.”

  The commander continued to lean back in his chair. After a few seconds, he looked up at the overhead and said nothing for at least another thirty seconds. It reminded me of the way Lieutenant Commander Herman behaved when she was fully engaged in the deepest of thought. He finally dismissed me with a curt wave.

  That, I also thought odd. Boggs’s reputation was one of civility and kindness toward his officers. Of course, no one was capable of understanding a long term relationship between father and son, especially one where the son had such great potential and had blown it so spectacularly. Even I had to admit that.

  “Sir,” I said before turning to the door. “I want you to know I have always thought highly of Buryl’s intelligence and hard work. His brutish tactics with others in his class is another matter. I tried to speak to him about it, but he’d made up his mind officers should and must be ruthless with their underlings if they expect to get anything done. I disagreed with him on a number of occasions. It is not what we were being taught, and it made no difference to Buryl. His personality demanded that he include such practices in the way he dealt with others. That, I believe, is what lies at the core of his problem. He prefers the dictatorial method of leadership and wants nothing to do with being persuasive and setting examples.”

 

‹ Prev