Ice and Peace

by Clare Dargin

  “Sir, with all due respect, it doesn’t make sense. If you’re going to attack a base, why leave any survivors if you don’t have to?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they screwed up.”

  “Sir, I doubt—”

  “That’s enough, Chief.” Keegan gave her a warning glance.

  Catching the signal, she fell silent.

  “Tainted Storm awaiting orders,” Jesswan stated over the com.

  “There’s nothing going on down there. Bring ’em back home, including the victim. Alert medical. I’ll inform Hollis,” Keegan said brusquely to the tac then exited the room.

  Seeing no point in staying any longer, she left, anxious to debrief her team.

  ***

  Caitlin stood in the cryo briefing room. Despite the planet’s icy temperature, the team was sweaty from exertion.

  “So tell me, what was the condition of the site?”

  The group glanced at each other.

  Jesswan scratched his head. “It was a mess down there. Like a bomb went off in there. There were no personnel. Equipment was minimal, if it worked at all.”

  “Other than the woman, did you find any trace of the others?”

  “The planet’s a big place, but inside the facility…no.”

  Caitlin straightened her posture. An entire research facility destroyed? All of the scientists gone with no traces of them to be found. What was so important for it to be destroyed the way it had?

  “So, Chief, you’ll think we’ll get another crack at ’em?” Jesswan asked.

  “We’ll have to wait and see. One thing’s for sure, they won’t have a contingent of cryos on board without using them. It’s just a matter of time.” She studied her team. They’d done great on their first mission, and she couldn’t have asked for better. “All right, team, good work. Get some chow. You’re dismissed.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It had been a full twenty-four hours since they’d found the survivor, and she was finally awake. Speeding as fast as they could toward Wacia, Keegan was glad to be away from the ravaged scientific facility. Though he had not visited the surface, he could sense the death and destruction hanging around it.

  Located inside a vacant quadrant, the defunct station gave him the chills when he thought about its isolation. Alone, wounded, and in danger, the young lady was lucky Gadison insisted he check for survivors or who knew what would have happened to her.

  That could have been Cate. A wave of fear washed over him, halting him in full stride. Tightness in his chest stifled his ability to breathe. He glanced at a clock on the wall, avoiding the gazes of the people passing by.

  Pull it together. She is safe and nothing is going to happen to her. You’re in charge now and you don’t have to send her on an assignment. She can just sit here for the duration of the cruise and be pissed off at you. But at least she’s alive.

  Comforted by the thought, he continued on to the main infirmary. He slowed his steps as he approached the young lady on the exam table, flanked by Gadison and Bishop.

  “Miss, what’s your name?” In spite of being badly bruised, she appeared no worse for wear. Strange, considering she was the only survivor of a base attack.

  Her eyes fluttered open. She clutched the sheet covering her shivering, pale body.

  “My name is Doctor Roesner. Jenny Roesner. I am an assistant researcher on the Cryogenic Warfare Project. I work with Doctor Rimmer. Where am I?”

  “You are on board the USS Blanchard. Our team found you unconscious. Can you tell us what happened down there?”

  She rubbed her forehead and swallowed. “Umm. I can’t remember. I just recall talking to Dr. Rimmer and then there was an explosion.”

  “Can you recall anything after that? Like how you got to the transport station?” Gadison asked.

  She licked her lips. “No. I’m sorry I don’t.” Her voice cracked and she directed her gaze to the ceiling behind him. “How did I get here? What about my friends? Where are they?”

  “Doc?” Keegan asked. He detected a strange scent. Like burnt motor oil. It was the same odor he’d smelled on Cate’s uniform. Cryotherazine. Considering no cryos had been treated recently, he wondered why the scent was so strong. She was a scientist at a cryo research facility and worked around the stuff all time. It was the only reason why she seemed to be doused in it.

  Bishop shook his head. “You were unconscious. Unfortunately, your friends didn’t make it.”

  “No!” she cried, tears welling up within her eyes.

  “Her inability to remember, is this normal?” Keegan asked. He glanced at her briefly as she sobbed. He understood her grief but detached himself from it. He needed to stay focused on finding out what happened and perhaps protect the ship from the same kind of attack.

  “Intermittent amnesia is common with this kind of trauma.”

  “Will she be all right?” His resolved softened.

  “All her vitals are normal. With a little rest, she should be fine. My dear, there is no need to worry. You’re safe here,” Bishop added, handing her a tissue. “We’ll get you settled, and you’ll feel at home in no time.”

  Having seen enough, Keegan started toward the door. “Doctor Roesner, thank you for your cooperation. The guard outside will escort you to your quarters. You’ll find a change of clothes there.”

  “Thank you.”

  Keegan eyed Gadison. He motioned for the man to follow him.

  “What do you think?” Gadison asked once out of earshot.

  Caitlin was right; none of it added up. Something about Doctor Roesner bothered him, but then the woman had amnesia.

  “It amazes me. She comes out with barely a scratch, and to top it all off, she doesn’t remember a thing?”

  “You heard what the doc said, she’s got amnesia.”

  “I have a feeling she knows more than she’s letting on. Keep an eye on her and inform the doctor privately that it’s time to wake Doctor Rimmer.”

  “That’s a good idea. Maybe she can shed some light on the matter.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  ***

  Hundreds of Sailors moved the fighter craft around the flight deck below in a tightly choreographed ballet. Their different-colored jerseys identified their jobs; red for ordnance men, purple for fuelers, yellow for plane captains, and so on. Caitlin smiled, noting all their communication was done via hand signals because of the high level of noise.

  The ready room shuddered as each elevator lifted a fighter to the launch bay above. Only the monitor in the front corner of the room gave evidence of their departure. She continued to stare at the people below, noting their animated expressions. Some smiled, some scrunched their faces, while others wore a steel-like determination, powered by the pride they had for serving a country and a world they loved. Caitlin wished she had that. Instead, she felt like an indentured servant.

  She shifted her position against the frame, tracing the large window. Her boots sank into the plush carpeting. The desire to kick off her shoes and walk around barefoot was overwhelming, but she contained herself and waited quietly for the others to arrive.

  The more she watched, the angrier she became when she considered her future. There was no doubt in her mind she would be stuck on board a ship for the rest of her life—free labor for a military starving for recruits. Yes, she had heard the rumors. Too much war and too few people. Though there were colonists from other planets signing on, they were not enough to keep up the high rate of attrition the Verneans inflicted. She returned her attention to the ready room. She strolled to the front and sat down. Questions turned in her mind. What was so special about the Potanus facility? They did cryo research, but why attack it?

  Caitlin rubbed her forehead. She’d hoped being in charge would make things easier. But she was just as baffled as the team she led, and the one person she could turn to was not available. Her sounding board and light, Medoro always provided insight into the situation. He provided a strong shoulder. This time,
he made it quite clear he could not be there for her. Even he had his limits.

  This damn job! Irked, she jumped to her feet.

  Her classified training and missions kept this side of her life away from him and it angered him. And now his job was doing it to her. A slow and deep pit of anguish opened inside of her. Would she be able to manage without him?

  Chapter Fourteen

  It hadn’t taken much time or charm to get the information she needed from the young nurse. Jenny stared down at her limp body. Golden brown hair fell gently over the dead nurse’s shoulders, accentuating her soft features. Stooping down, she leaned forward and caressed her cheek. It was still warm. If she had been one of her kind, she might have passed for someone with beauty, Jenny noted, pulling the body into a corner.

  The forecastle was dark and devoid of people, which made it a perfect spot for her to glean the particulars of an usual shipment that had been delivered to the ship. The young nurse had told her everything, including information about the arrival of the cryo soldiers on board.

  The arrival of cryo warriors was of little interest to her. The person she had been waiting for, Dr. Rimmer, was carefully nestled away inside the main infirmary. A slight grin eased its way onto her lips. It was time to inform the fleet of her whereabouts so they could meet her as planned. Jenny scratched her itchy, dry skin and drew a slight bit of pinkish blood on her arm. Examining her skin, she saw it was starting to peel. The exertion had overheated her, and she needed to cool down.

  She had only two options available to her. Find a way to hide inside one of the cryo quarters or get her hands on more Cryotherazine. Either one would help her situation until she could figure out a way to get her hands on Dr. Rimmer. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a vial of the light blue liquid along with a syringe. She plunged the needle into the vial and withdrew the plunger, filling the needle completely. Without hesitation, she jabbed it into her thigh, grunting somewhat from the pain. She emptied the needle then tossed it and the vial aside.

  She was ready for the next part of her mission. To glean the ship’s position so as to inform the fleet.

  ***

  Sitting in the mid-deck of the observation room, Keegan sketched on his favorite drawing pad. He shifted uncomfortably as his morning meal sat heavily in his stomach, making him feel sluggish. The room, which was normally crowded, was empty and afforded a bit of solitude.

  Keegan savored these times. It gave him an opportunity to be the man he knew himself to be—quiet, creative, and contemplative. The charcoal pencil glided smoothly across the paper. Majestic mountains came into shape as he etched them from memory onto the rough page. He allowed himself to relax. Each stroke and sweep of the charcoal brought him a little closer to home.

  “Colonel,” a voice said beside him.

  He glanced up at Berger standing beside him. “Commander,” he said, returning to his drawing.

  “May I join you?”

  “Please.”

  Berger sat in the chair across from him. “You like to draw, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “My artistic endeavors involve paying for the expensive art my wife likes to buy, that’s about it. I can’t even draw stick people.” Berger leaned over to take a closer look at Keegan’s drawing.

  Slightly annoyed at the interruption, Keegan tolerated it, believing there had to be some reason why the commander had decided to join him.

  “Why didn’t you go to some fancy New York art school?” Berger asked.

  Keegan continued drawing though his concentration was broken. The lines no longer came out as sharp as he liked.

  “Me? There?”

  The notion of him living and working in the East Village in New York was rather funny. He’d rather command a battalion to raid it than live in it. He wasn’t the artsy, fancy-free type. He raised his brow.

  They both chuckled.

  “I suppose you’re right. I came by to tell you we found two bodies. One in a storage closet not too far from the CIC and the other in the forecastle.”

  “Who?”

  “Lieutenant J.G. Kimberly Watkins and Specialist Donette Falco. The doc is checking now to find out cause of death. Lieutenant Watkins was a nurse in the main infirmary.”

  Keegan put down his drawing. “Any suspects?”

  “No. But we’re conducting a thorough investigation. And there was something else. Medical has reported several vials of Cryotherazine missing from their supply.”

  “Perhaps it’s being used by the cryos we have on board.”

  “According to Bishop, those bottles are accounted for. The ones missing were in overflow.”

  Berger stood and glanced at the naturescape Keegan had drawn. “Gadison got wind of this and has decided to help.”

  “Lucky for us.”

  “I’m gonna talk to the cryos and see what they know.”

  “What about other members of the crew?”

  “I have some people investigating other possibilities but since the stuff is so highly specialized, I’m going to keep my investigation narrowed to likely suspects. You and I both know the stuff has a short shelf life outside of the deep freeze. So whoever’s got it has to use it fast. And there aren’t many people here who’d be able to.”

  Keegan didn’t like where this investigation was going, but he had no choice but to see it through. “Thank you, Commander. Keep me posted.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “And check on our guest, Dr. Roesner, just to be sure, she's all right.”

  “Will do.”

  He continued sketching until Berger left the room. Once alone, Keegan rose and looked out the window.

  “Damn.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jenny sniffed the cold air; it smelled of a familiar substance. Cryotherazine. The chemical’s peculiar compound offered her relief from the ship’s warm air. She scratched the skin on her arm, tearing the tiny blisters on its patchy white surface.

  She hated being aboard, but it was a necessary evil. It was the only way she was able to get out of the facility and onto an Earth-based vessel in the hopes of tracking Dr. Rimmer. At least the bases she and her team had raided had been more suitable for her kind. Their cold temperatures allowed their bodies to remain cool when they exerted themselves. Unlike humans, they had been engineered without sweat glands.

  The empire had deemed them unnecessary because they believed their service would be entirely in frigid environments. They’d never considered the possibility of ever assigning them to duties in warmer temperatures. It took only a hundred deaths before they sought a solution.

  As she walked up to each door, she peered inside the room through the small window located near the top. A lone figure rested on the cot in each room. Upon discovering a contingent of cryos were stationed on the ship, she immediately set about finding out where they stayed. Each night, she took the risk of being detected by the roving patrols but here no one would dare to look. Unlike on the base, here she was one person among thousands and knew she could blend in easily along as she didn’t raise any suspicions. Like telling the guards posted outside her door she was feeling claustrophobic and needed to “stretch her legs.”

  At first, she was concerned they would follow her but, when they didn’t, she realized they were there to protect her, not imprison her. Of course, it was going to be hard for them to explain why she never returned. But then that was their problem. As one of thousands in a ship of this size, the odds were in her favor.

  Finally, finding a room toward the end of the corridor, she peeked inside. It appeared to be more of a storage unit than a room. The environmental controls were still hooked in, keeping it cool and making it perfect for her needs, and the area did not seem heavily monitored. Closing the door behind her, she searched through the various containers stored inside and found some leftover blankets and uniforms. Balling them up, she walked over to a corner and lay down. She set her watch to wake her just before the change of first watch. The ligh
t turned off, placing her in total darkness. Shutting her eyes, she was comforted by the thought she would be off the ship soon and back with her own people.

  ***

  Caitlin folded her arms around herself protectively. She felt vulnerable and exposed even though she was going to speak to her husband. Their relationship had changed drastically since she came on board, and the change was pulling them apart. She glanced at the photographs inside the briefing room just off the CIC. They were taken when a version of the Blanchard was in Earth’s blue Navy, when it patrolled Earth’s oceans. The men and women appeared so confident. It was as if they could step out of the frames and operate the ship today.

  Not long ago, she would have identified with her twentieth century counterparts, wishing she could go back to the world she once knew. But not anymore. They’d no more accept her than the people she served with now. At least now, she had people who shared her condition.

  The door to the briefing room closed behind her.

  “What is it?” he asked from behind her.

  It took some fast thinking and little lying for her to get through the layers of ranks separating them. As a rule, if a person had a problem they went to their immediate CO or department head, and then higher up from there, never breaking the chain of command. But considering she and her team were classified, not many on board held the proper security clearance to discuss the ops of her team. Then there was the little fact she was married to the ship’s captain.

  “The XO has been questioning my team.” Strong and handsome, his powerful presence took over the room. Everything about him said he had it under control. Her confidence he would handle it grew.

  “So?”

  “So, why is he?”

  “Did you ask them what he wanted?”

  “Yeah, they said he was asking about where they’ve been, how much of their meds they’ve been dosing. What gives?”