by K. Gorman
“Maybe you should ask Commander Tillerman.” He leaned back toward the panel and pressed the emergency stop button again. With a rumble and a beep, the elevator began to move. “I hear she’s been trying to talk to you.”
A few seconds later, they arrived at their floor, and he exited the elevator, leaving her staring after him in confusion.
Just what in the ten hells was that about? she asked Tia.
Tia shrugged. How should I know? You know more about contemporary politics than I do.
I was right. I haven’t had nearly enough coffee for this.
Shaking her head, she walked out of the elevator and followed Kalinsky at a loose distance.
About mid-way up, Sergeant Tian Adan Reeve looked up from his conversation with a service tech, spotted her, said a few parting words to the tech, and peeled himself off the wall to join her as she passed.
“Have some trouble with the elevator?” he asked.
My, my, they’re quick, Tia commented.
“Kalinsky had trouble finding which button to push,” she said flatly. “I think he’s still having trouble.”
Reeve arched his eyebrows and glanced at the back of the retreating UN delegate. “Did he say something to you?”
“Somewhat. I think he’s confused as to how much I don’t give a shit about politics.”
“Ah,” Reeve said, understanding. “Yes, I can see how that is confusing to someone such as him.”
Although a sergeant on official paper, Reeve worked as more of a free agent in the Fallon ranks―a not-so-hidden secret. So far, she’d only seen him report to generals for orders and directions, and he’d been Nomiki’s handler for the past few months, which suggested a certain amount of black ops combat experience, though she hadn’t seen any of his skill in person.
He was smart, though, and friendly, and they’d gotten to know each other over the past few months.
Of course, if Kalinsky’s little implications were correct, that would put her and Reeve in direct opposition.
“So, new mission?” she asked, deftly changing the subject. “Seems kind of sudden.”
“UN dropped it on us earlier,” he said. “We’re lucking out in weather for it, apparently.”
“Uh huh.”
As if weather affected missions. Unless a typhoon brewed over the affected area, or a surprisingly specific hit of solar storm wind happened, there was little a Fallon ship like the Courant couldn’t fly through.
She flashed her ID at a door and squinted as she turned into the ship’s war room. The space had a dim atmosphere to make it easier to see the holos. At a glance, there had to be about thirty of them in the oval-shaped room, and a dozen techs and officers monitoring them, recording weather, comms logs, telemetry, and engineering stats. An older officer in the corner was speaking to someone in a bright red jumpsuit, likely one of the Courant’s chief engineers. In the corner, General Crane had turned his back on the room and was talking quietly into a comms unit that had been hardwired to the wall.
That was one of the main distinguishing features of Fallon fleet design―they all used hardwired lines for innership comms, and they had a full complement of secondary comms that could be hooked into in case of interference or interception. Though it was odd seeing them. In all her training on Alliance ships, she’d only ever seen hardwired comms in an aeronautics museum.
It was easy to take transmission as guaranteed…until you were alone in the Black and at war.
Gods, she didn’t even want to think of an inter-system war. Fallon and the Alliance may have had their disagreements in the past, but even the Border Wars hadn’t been as bad as they could have been.
Nomiki was already there, leaning against a piece of curved wall to the right with her arms crossed over her chest. Jon stood next to her, typing something on the glowing screen of his netlink. Karin spotted a third member of their usual party on the other side of the room―Colonel Lorraine Ganis, who had the misfortune of sharing a given name with both the Centauri captain who had attacked the FSS Manila after their gate transverse as well as a woman who had helped the Alliance attack Karin on Enlil, back when she was still a wanted fugitive.
She and Ganis got along, though.
Kalinsky was there, too, of course, speaking in low tones to the Martian ambassador, Alice Lang. Karin pretended not to see the gesture he made in her direction, instead finding a quiet spot off to the left, watching as Reeve broke off to join the two reps.
She got a few minutes of quiet before Ganis drifted over to her side and parked herself against the wall.
“You look like shit,” the Marine said.
Karin grunted. “Thanks.”
“Anytime. You got a bead on any more of those feeds? I ran out of Moon Sailor.”
Karin let out a sigh. They had all run out of Moon Sailor. “Yeah, we have a hard drive full of downloaded content on the ship. Hit me up after. It’s even legal.”
Given the way the relay systems worked, most dramas and netfiction handed out subscriber keys. That way, anyone who wasn’t always connected to a live net feed could download their content by proxy. They were much cheaper, and usually the only way of getting legal content outside of the main planets and stations.
“Bonus.”
She stifled a yawn as the door opened again. Commander Baik walked in, decked out in his Alliance High Command whites. He gave her a small nod as he passed, heading straight for the center holotable. Across the room, General Crane saw him arrive, said a few last words into the comms piece, hung it back in its cradle, and strode over to the table.
Karin and Ganis took the cue and detached themselves from the wall to join the mission briefing.
General Crane was an older man, mid-sized Caucasian, with a balding patch of stubbly gray hair under his fleet hat. He still wore his customary uniform, the Fallon navy blue with its trim stripes in red and blue to represent the Courant. She wondered if he’d changed in the past day, or if this was the same uniform she’d seen him in the previous cycle. He’d been lead on the last mission, too.
Like them, he wasn’t getting much in the way of sleep. Even less than his regular crew, from what she’d gathered.
“Good afternoon, everyone,” he intoned, leaning his knuckles on the edge of the holotable. The rawness to his tone had to do with the lack of sleep. “Thank you for joining me.”
Bits of red flecked his eyes, too, but so far, none of the blood vessels had broken. She presumed he was using the same stim packets the techs were dipping into.
He is, Tia confirmed. That forward lean isn’t just for age, it’s a symptom. His blood pressure is also elevated.
My blood pressure would be elevated, too, if I had his job. She slipped her gaze over him, noticing parts of what Tia had―the lean was obvious, the elevated blood pressure less so. Any stim side-effects I should know about? I’ve never used military grade.
Technically, she had, but considering she’d used it to counter the soporific effect of a heavy sedative and had been pretty stressed and fucked up at the time, she didn’t think it counted.
Shakiness, nausea, higher risk of heart problems. A hum went through her mind, Tia likely accessing part of Karin’s memory for her analysis. If they’re anything like the stims used in my day, there’ll be others, too. Nosebleeds were common in trials.
A vivid memory of her most recent nosebleed popped up in her head. They’d been getting rather common for her these days, along with headaches.
Karin pushed the thought back and quirked an inner eyebrow. ‘Trials’?
Yes. Tia’s inner thought-voice turned sharp and clipped. The Corringhams had little regard for human life, as you know.
The holotable came to life, springing up a standard loading schematic before settling into a model of a small, three-tiered structure. General Crane gave a nod to the tech sitting at the station next to him and began.
“According to intel we received from the UN, an unorthodox doomsday cult has holed up in this buildin
g, a former mining operation that has undergone significant modification. While the group uses the buildings on the surface for their day-to-day, your job is to go below. The UN reports a number of tunnels carved out underneath the structure that lead into a series of natural caves in the nearby mountain, and sonics from the Alliance Pegasus confirm this. Building map and general terrain details are being routed to your netlinks.”
A moment later, the crew’s netlinks all pinged, chirped, or buzzed to indicate the file delivery.
“A doomsday cult?” Karin asked. “What denomination?”
“The UN identifies the cave complex as being a minor Buddhist site, a shrine to the bodhisattva Guanyin―Avalokiteshvara―and drone images show a continuation of smaller shrines further in, but I don’t think they are using them.”
She let out a slow breath, staring blandly as the cave model rotated in front of her. This would be the third doomsday cult this week.
An ugly set of emotions began to churn in her gut.
Why are we wasting our time on this?
“Mission specs are on your netlinks. Memorize them,” General Crane continued. “We’ll brief again closer to the site. Try to get some rest.”
The general made a gesture, dismissing them. Everyone began to pull away, heading for the door to get ready.
“Have you found Sasha yet?” she asked.
General Crane fixed her with a stare. “Pardon?”
“Dr. Evangeline Sasha, the one who instigated this whole Shadow attack situation. Have you found her?”
The mood in the room stilled. General Crane continued to stare at her. Behind her, the group had stopped. Their attention made her shoulders itch. Nomiki in particular had a sharp look to her eyes, which Karin could both see and feel.
“Dr. Sasha’s whereabouts are unknown, as are those of her son,” Crane said, his voice smooth and slow. “Why do you bring this up?”
“It just seems that, so far, you haven’t touched my new powers, only put me on combat missions. That is great for testing my new combat ability, but that is only the side effect of my transition to Program Eurynome.” She tilted her head, fixing him with a stare. “Neither Tia nor I went into that tank for combat abilities, and not using them seems counter-productive to finding Sasha, who is known to use dimensional-warping power.”
And who, as far as I know, has yet to be seen on Earth.
For several long, thick seconds, the room was dead silent. Only the click and whir of the holotable spools and lenses interrupted the dead quiet. General Crane continued to meet her eyes, and the façade of politeness remained on his face, but a flush of surprise hit her when she saw the wariness under it, along with the suspicion.
He hadn’t liked her question one bit.
“Sometimes, Ms. Makos, you have to swing a hundred times at a ball before you can hit it. While I hope that our intelligence team can crack that particular case, the only thing we can do is dig with what intel we have. For that, your new abilities do come in as extremely useful, and I thank you for the lives of my soldiers that you save from fire.” He gave her a grim smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a mission to coordinate. If you have any questions, pertinent details are in your mission packet. You also have access to other reports through your link, should you wish to apprise yourself of the larger picture.”
With that, he turned from her and to his technician. “Now, Jiang, can you show me the A-C-50 range again? There’s something I wish to double check.”
A low chuckle sounded through her head.
Well, you just got handled.
She schooled her features as she turned away. He didn’t answer any of my questions. Not really.
He skirted around them rather masterfully, I thought. Which, I suppose, gives us an answer.
Halfway to the door, Nomiki was staring at her, an incredulous expression on her face, eyebrows shooting near the top of her forehead. She took Karin’s arm and not-so-subtly dragged her towards the door.
Ganis was giving her a similar look, though Jon had adopted his usual deadpan of cautious calculation. Baik, too, had a frown aimed in her direction, though it seemed more considering than anything else.
“What in the ten hells was that?” Nomiki hissed once they were outside. “He’s a general. You don’t talk that way to generals.”
She sighed. “He didn’t actually answer my question.”
“He doesn’t have to answer your question. He’s a general. Christ on a cross―” This specific swear, Nomiki switched to French for, turning the r’s into a more back-of-throat sound. “What’s gotten into you?”
She shrugged. “I guess this is what happens when you remove all trace of fear from my system―I simply don’t give a shit anymore. They’re avoiding the obvious, Nomiki. I’m simply pointing it out.” She rounded on her sister, a finger jabbing at her chest―a confrontation that Old Karin would have kept to herself, but New & Updated Karin had zero problem with. “We need to find Sasha. If we don’t―”
“Yes, yes, I know―the systems will end.” Nomiki blew out a breath. “We know this. Everyone knows this. They’re working on it. Suns, sister.”
“They haven’t used my true powers once, Nomiki. Not really. Only to dodge bullets.” She shook her head and put some extra strength in her step, leaving the group. “He’s running us around. I’m just trying to find out why.”
Chapter Four
They took off shortly after, the Courant lifting with an unsubtle jerk and tilting into the air in a gesture that had Karin rolling her eyes while she gripped her crash seat―just who in the hell was piloting this thing? She could just imagine the words her old flight instructor on Belenus would have had for them.
Once they’d reached a cruising altitude and the ship’s comms had given them the go-ahead, the rest of the team unbuckled from their crash seats and dug into the ration packets in the cupboard.
She grabbed a pack of jerky and left the room.
Perhaps it was the pilot in her, but she found it comforting to wander the halls. The Courant was a highly advanced ship, with state-of-the-art scanning, flight, and weapons systems and all of the bells and whistles to go along with them. The last ‘war’ with the Alliance had been similar to the first Cold War of Earth’s history, back before the nukes had gone hot. Neither Fallon nor the Alliance had wanted to destroy each other, but neither could back down from their claims. So, they’d poured all their war funds into manufacturing and development, producing some of the most elite, exquisite ships she could ever imagine.
Eventually, it wasn’t just the technology that mattered, but the luxury. The very fact that she could walk into a break room on a fleet ship like the Courant―or the Pegasus, or the Icarus―and get solid, pre-stored ice cubes in her drink, or watch an episode of Moon Sailor from one of the room’s ergonomic recliners, each of which had also been equipped as a crash seat, was a symptom of the old competition.
Which meant that the Courant, by design, was beautiful to look at.
She rolled her shoulders, stifled a yawn, and popped a piece of jerky into her mouth.
So, what do you think? she asked Tia.
You sure you want to ask me? I thought I was an ‘unknown personality’?
And I’m a psychopathic killing machine. Spill.
God, she really was getting aggressive. That was something Nomiki would have said, not her.
In her head, Tia sighed. Okay, what first―your little tizzy with Crane, the conversation with Kalinsky, the hunt for Sasha, my opinion of Fallon and Alliance as a whole, the Centauri, the UN and Mars, or something else?
Karin sighed.
Yeah, there was a lot going on. And that didn’t even cover all of it.
Kalinsky first. What’s his angle? To cause trouble between Fallon and their most powerful asset?
Most likely. Take it from his perspective―Earth was attacked thrice. First by the Shadows, then by the Centauri, who took it over, then by Fallon and the Alliance, who fought the Centauri
. I’m sure they want some semblance of control back. Right now, they have none.
Plus, I’m an Earther.
We’re both Earthers, technically, though I doubt I’m worth much in that regard, in his eyes, being legally dead and all.
Karin sparked a smile. I dunno, Tia. Maybe they’ll catch wind of the mighty powerful AI that may or may not be able to open wormholes to new dimensions.
I’m not an AI. I was alive. And unless they want a slowly corrupting mess of a psycho, I doubt they’ll take me.
In that case, Centauri may want you. ‘Corrupting mess of a psycho’ seems very up their alley. She let out a breath and popped another piece of jerky into her mouth, nodding at one of the techs as she passed by a service station. What about my ‘little tizzy with Crane,’ as you so eloquently put it? Do you agree that they’re blocking my powers?
Yes, Tia answered without hesitation. All evidence points to that―and they’re keeping you busy with these missions. Gives you less time, and energy, to think. It’s a classic tactic. I remember reading about it.
Of course. It made sense.
Why, though? Why would Fallon suddenly prevent her from using her powers? It wasn’t as though Sasha had stopped being a threat.
Do you think something happened? Did they find something out that led them into this behavior?
Tia laughed. No, this smells like politics.
Karin hid a groan.
Politics. She hated it.
Fuck me. I just want to finish this.
Tia made a sound of agreement in her head. What about that other thing Kalinsky was on about? The Centauri?
What about them? Do you know something?
No more than you do, Tia informed her. But they have been watching you.
Who, Fallon? We knew that. They’re hardly subtle about it, after a―
No, not Fallon. I meant the Centauri.
She paused mid-step, a frown drawing down her brow and another piece of jerky halfway to her mouth.
I mean…that makes sense. I did slaughter my way through a large number of their soldiers. Her frown deepened. When did you notice they were watching?