Stolen Worlds (The Harry Irons Trilogy)

by Thomas Stone

  Harry was coming up to speed a little slowly. "What are they doing?"

  "They're vibrating. They've aligned themselves into loose fitting chains and they're vibrating. At least, they were up until a few seconds ago. Seems they've stopped now." Dr. Menele swiveled on the stool and looked at a different instrument. "Hm," he said, "the chains are dispersing as well."

  The doctor faced Harry. "You were dreaming, possibly in a free-associative state. You displayed a solid Alpha wave, but there were small fluctuations, mostly coming from your visual centers. You were watching something in your dream, weren't you, Commander?"

  Harry clearly remembered. "Yes."

  "What was it?"

  Harry felt a little dazed, certainly not as clear-headed as he had before the doc put him under. His head, arms, chest, and legs were held by leather straps. IVs were connected to the backs of both hands. Dozens of electrodes were attached at various points over his body. He'd been moved from the padded examining table to a circular weblike affair and was presently suspended upon it. Various machines surrounded the web, accepting the wires that were attached to Harry. Metallic surgical trays held instruments, both mechanical and manual, as well as cotton pads, syringes and an assortment of bottled drugs. A high-tech torture chamber.

  The doctor leaned closer. "What did you see, Harry?"

  Harry licked his lips. "I saw..." He shook his head. "Nothing. I can't remember."

  The doctor looked disappointed. "Well, all right. I think we were very close that time, don't you? Why don't we try again? Nurse, would you prepare another syringe please. Same amount, same procedure."

  Harry realized they had inserted a catheter and wondered how long he'd been there. He tried to remember how many times they'd run the procedure, but it was unclear. Seven? Eight? Something like that. The nurse gave Dr. Menele the syringe and he stuck the needle into one of Harry's IVs.

  "Bon voyage, Harry." He injected the drug and Harry started to drift away again.

  *

  Kathleen wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as Harry, but she still fidgeted in her seat. Ms. Roan and her three male counterparts sat before her looking pleased with themselves.

  "So," Roan continued, "is there anything else you want to tell us? Anything at all? Something you may have forgotten?"

  "No, I've told you everything I know."

  "And you see no aberrant behavior in Commander Irons?"

  "No."

  "Nothing at all?"

  Kathleen leaned forward. "I've lived with the man, been married to him, and shared six missions with him. I've known him for fifteen years. He's not crazy. Not even close."

  "But you do believe he's undergone a shock to his neural system?"

  "Well, he was knocked out for awhile..."

  "And afterwards?"

  "He was okay. He said he had a headache."

  "Uh-huh." Ms. Roan looked at her computer monitor and pressed a series of keys. She stared at the screen for a moment, then looked back to Kathleen.

  "How did you ever pick the spot on Bedor?"

  "What?"

  "The landing area. How did you know that was where the Bedorans were?"

  "We, we didn't. It was a geological hotspot, that's why we went there." Kathleen was uneasy about lying. For one thing, she'd already told Harry she wouldn't lie for him, and secondly, once you started lying, you were always in trouble.

  One of the men, Loudermilk, leaned forward and said, "Control room recorders don't show a thermal survey. When did you have time to do it anyway? I mean, you had to bail pretty quickly, right?"

  Kathleen shrugged. "Harry said he did it. I didn't ask." Another lie.

  "But you didn't actually see him conduct a thermal survey?"

  "No."

  They were silent for a moment. One of the men asked, "No seizures? No daydreaming, spacing out?"

  "No. I think he's okay. Of course, I'd like to see him checked out..."

  "As do we."

  "...just to be sure. But he seems fine to me."

  Leaning back, Ms. Roan laid her hands palm down on the table. She looked at her comrades and asked if they had any more questions. The men shook their heads.

  It took Kathleen by surprise. They'd only been meeting for two hours. She'd been expecting a real grilling.

  "All right then. This debriefing of Co-commander Kathleen Casey for Corporation Survey Mission nine-oh-two-two-oh is officially concluded. Thank you for your cooperation, Co-commander."

  The men echoed the sentiment and stood. That was it, the debriefing was concluded. Kathleen had some questions of her own and asked Ms. Roan if she could take another few minutes.

  "Certainly," she said, lagging behind the men. As they exited, Ms. Roan walked around the conference table. "How can I help you?" She sat on the edge of the table and allowed her skirt to ride up her thighs.

  "It's the Bedoran boy. What's going to happen to him?"

  "A decision hasn't been made on that as yet. The behaviorists and the bioscience group both want him for awhile."

  "He's a primitive. And he's just a boy. I'm inclined to agree with Harry that the best thing is to get him back to his own people."

  "Back to the cold? That's kind of like tossing him into an uncertain future, isn't it?"

  "Is it certain here?"

  "Well, Kathleen, you must admit we can properly care for him here. You did say they were all starving, didn't you?"

  "Well, yes, they were in pretty bad shape."

  "There you have it."

  "Another thing."

  "Yes?"

  "How long are you going to keep Harry for evaluation?"

  Ms. Roan spread her hands. "I don't know. As long as it takes."

  "I wanted to know because I thought I'd wait and take the shuttle down with him."

  "Ah. If I were you, I'd be prepared to wait several days."

  Kathleen had been looking forward to a chalet in the alps and a lot of skiing, the more extreme, the better. But she'd planned on going with Harry.

  Ms. Roan leaned toward Kathleen. The perfume she wore was butch, something called A Woman's Passion. "How about a drink in the lounge?"

  Insensitive to the older woman's feelings, Kathleen laughed. "I don't think so. Can I see Harry?"

  Ms. Roan leaned away. "Not while he's in evaluation."

  "What about the boy?"

  "Well, I suppose that would be all right. Possibly even beneficial if it helps to pacify the creature." She tossed her head and added, "Of course, you must have a drink with me to seal the agreement."

  Kathleen sighed. "All right. One drink, then I need to make some moves."

  "Oh," said Ms. Roan, "I hope they're in my direction. By the way, why don't you call me Kathy?""

  "Whatever," replied Kathleen as she opened the door, "we all have to be called something."

  "What should I call you?" Roan was really laying it on heavy.

  "Co-commander Casey will do."

  "Seems a little formal, but I would think you'd like the new title better."

  "New title? What are you talking about?"

  "You haven't heard, have you? You're being given a promotion, you can call yourself Commander Casey now."

  It took a moment to sink in. Kathleen knew she could have stepped up in rank a long time ago, but she didn't want it then. Somehow, it sounded better now. Perhaps she was ready for it. It meant leading her own missions. But it also meant going without Harry.

  Kathleen had her drink with Kathy Roan and, after fending off numerous offers of sex, she thanked the libidinous woman and went off in search of Yoni.

  He wasn't in the holding lounge where she expected to find him. A woman told her the boy had been taken to another area, but couldn't say for sure just where. Kathleen checked the sign-out roster and saw that a technician from biosciences had taken the boy. In five minutes, she was checking the bioscience spaces.

  She found Yoni in one of the labs, sitting alone inside a cage. When he saw her, he jumped to his fe
et. Behind, his tail waved frantically in the air. Kathleen unlocked the cage door and pulled it open. Yoni practically flew into her arms.

  "How did you get in there?"

  Yoni chattered in Bedoran but without a translator, Kathleen couldn't understand. The noise attracted a technician.

  "What's going on here? What are you doing letting that animal out of the cage?"

  "Yoni's not an animal, you idiot! Who ordered this?"

  The technician noticed Kathleen's rank insignia and quickly backed down. "I don't know. I was just doing my job."

  "Do you always do what you're told?"

  The technician shrugged.

  "Get out of here before I lose my temper."

  In anger, the technician stared for a moment before leaving.

  Kathleen turned back to the boy. "I'm sorry I let them do that to you, Yoni. I didn't know."

  Yoni stared and said nothing.

  "I guess you're just going to have to stay with me until we can get this thing worked out. You don't happen to snow-ski, do you? No, I didn't think so. Oh well, I suppose my vacation can wait." She pried the boy's tail from her waist and led him to the door.

  A bioscience officer met them in the corridor outside. "Where are you going with my sample?"

  "So, you're the one in charge here?"

  "Yes. I'm Dr. Johnson, and I'd appreciate it if you'd turn around and take the creature back to where you found him."

  "No," Kathleen simply said as she stepped past.

  "You can't do this."

  Kathleen stopped and whirled on the man. "Oh no? Johnson, do you know who I am?"

  He glanced at the insignia on her collar. "I don't care who you are, Co-commander. I have my orders."

  "For your information, sir, my name is Commander Casey. Perhaps you've heard of me? I'm the one who found this Bedoran and I'll be damned if I'll let you or anyone else lock him up in a cage."

  "Commander Casey? I've heard of you..."

  Kathleen elbowed him in the stomach as she turned and led Yoni away. "Good. Then you know better than to fuck with me."

  "You haven't heard the last of this," called Johnson as Kathleen and Yoni walked away. Kathleen ignored him and took Yoni to her temporary quarters.

  Once there, she had food delivered, fresh fruit for Yoni, Italian pizza for herself. Yoni ate two apples, three bananas, and a bunch of grapes before falling asleep on the couch. When the phone buzzed, Yoni stirred once and turned over.

  "Yes?" answered Kathleen.

  "This is Sarah Frederickson, Dr. Sarah Frederickson, head of biosciences at City 2."

  "Yes, Doctor, I remember you from the alien biology seminar two years ago."

  "Then you should know that by taking the Bedoran from the lab you've put his life at risk. We don't know nearly enough about their physiology to allow our sample to be treated like a common pet."

  Kathleen felt the anger rising again. "By your own standards, I think you'd have to agree that I'm the closest thing you have to an expert on Bedoran life. I've lived with them. Shared meals, worked alongside them. They are intelligent beings, not animals. Yoni doesn't deserve to be put into a cage."

  "This is highly irregular, Co-commander."

  "It's Commander, now, Doctor."

  There was a pause at the other end of the line. Kathleen suddenly realized her promotion might prove to be more useful than she'd first imagined.

  "Are you willing to take responsibility for the Bedoran?"

  "Of course. Otherwise I wouldn't have taken him."

  "We still have to run our tests. And when we're finished the behavioral group wants to take a look at him."

  "I understand and I agree, as long as the tests don't harm him in any way."

  "No one is going to harm the animal, Commander."

  "As long as everyone keeps calling him an animal, I can't be sure of that."

  "You can attend all the test sessions if you like."

  "I'll do just that, Doctor. Now, if you don't mind, Yoni and I are a little tired and we'd like to get some rest."

  "Very well. We'll start our tests in the morning. Please have the Bedoran in the biosciences lab by oh-eight-hundred."

  Kathleen hung up without acknowledging but she knew she'd have to let them conduct their examination. She would cooperate up to a point. The first time someone suggested a vivisection, she promised herself she'd yank him out of there again, even if it meant getting written up.

  Chapter 11

  The ceiling was too close. So close it blurred Harry's vision. After a moment, he focused and realized it wasn't the ceiling at all. He was lying on his back looking at a visor of some sort that covered his entire head. Underneath, a cold, metallic shelf vibrated slightly. There was a low, electronic hum that soothed him and he began to drift back to sleep.

  "Harry? Commander?"

  Harry opened his eyes again. Off to one side, out of sight, a voice said, "He's awake. Let's ease him out." Clamps opened and Harry felt himself sliding backwards out of the tube.

  Dr. Menele stood to one side. Harry started to sit up, but the doctor put a hand on his chest. "Just a moment, Commander. No need to hurry. How do you feel?"

  "A little groggy," he admitted.

  "I could give you something to help perk you up."

  Harry weakly waved a hand. "No more drugs. Am I finished?"

  "Yes. I think we've got all the data we need."

  Harry sat up. His head swam but he was all right. "Well?" he said, looking at the doctor.

  Menele looked confused for an instant, then said, "It'll take a while to evaluate all the data. I'm afraid I can't speculate about anything at this time."

  "You've put me through a lot to leave it like this."

  "I sympathize with you, but as I said, I can't say anything without further analysis."

  Harry wasn't going to get anything more out of the man, so he slid off the table into a waiting wheelchair. "Thanks a lot, Doc." An attendant pushed him out. As soon as they were gone, Menele crossed the room and picked up a phone. He punched a number and waited.

  "Yes?"

  "We're done."

  "Good. I'll meet him in the waiting room."

  "What about afterwards?"

  "He's free to do as he pleases, as far as I know."

  "No. I mean, what are you doing afterwards?"

  "Doctor, is this a prelude to a social invitation?"

  "Well, yes. I thought we might..."

  "You thought wrong, sir. I am professional employee of the Braithwaite Corporation and do not mix business with social activities. You would do well to remember that yourself."

  "Yes, of course, I'm sure I meant no harm, Ms. Roan."

  *

  Roan walked fast and had to stop more than once so Harry could catch up. "What's this all about?" asked Harry. "I'm tired. I need some sack time."

  The woman refused to answer, preferring to urge him along instead.

  Harry stopped at a cross corridor. "This is the way to my temporary quarters and unless you give an awful good reason not to, this is the way I'm going."

  "Please, Commander, just a little farther. This is important. Someone wants to see you immediately."

  "Listen, if it's Kendrix, he can wait. Tell him I'll furnish a report tomorrow, if that's what he wants."

  "No, that's not it. It's not Mr. Kendrix."

  "Then who is it?"

  "I'd rather you see for yourself. Please, just a few more steps."

  An annoying whine had crept into the woman's voice. Harry relented. "All right. As long as I don't have to be strapped to a table again."

  They continued down the corridor, finally pausing at a checkpoint where their identities were verified.

  "This is as far as I go, Commander. Have a nice day." As the carbosteel hatch slid opened, Ms. Roan turned and walked away. The guard told Harry to step through and he did so. The hallway beyond was posh, lined with expensive carpet and muted lighting. A door at the end of the hall opened as Harry a
pproached.

  He stepped into the room and knew from the exquisite furnishings that one of the Corporation heavyweights wanted to talk to him. Whoever it was sat at a desk with his back to the door. When Harry was inside, the door slid shut behind him. The man swiveled in his chair and faced Harry.

  It was Stephen Thanopolous, the corporate representative Harry had first met fifteen years ago. Thanopolous had retired almost ten years ago and Harry was surprised to see him.

  "Hello, Harry. Good to see you again."

  Harry nodded. "Stephen. What brings you up here?"

  "Oh, I live on City One. Sometimes the Corporation still asks me to do favors for them."

  That wasn't exactly true. Thanopolous was a major stockholder and sat on the board of directors. Although retired, he was still active in running the show and Harry knew it.

  "How are you feeling? I know you've been through a lot."

  "I feel okay. A little tired."

  "I'm sure, so I won't keep you long. There are, however, a few things we must talk about. I don't have to go into a long history lesson to let you know how valuable you are to the Braithwaite Corporation. It goes without saying that you're the best we have to offer. There isn't another survey commander with your experience and talent. That's why we were so concerned about what happened on Mirabel. I can't deny that we're extremely interested in the kitzloc. The substance you managed to bring back has certain, uh, peculiar qualities. We believe there is a possibility that the kitzloc essence has the power to create new biological structures when inserted into a living host. They multiply in the bloodstream until there are enough to form chains throughout the circulatory system that act as an addition to the nervous system. These structures generate waves that we don't understand. We think it may impart paranormal powers to a certain degree. That's why you got the third degree. We wanted to get as much information from you as possible. Unfortunately, it's been a physically intrusive process, and I'm sorry you've had to go through it. Additionally, I'd like to thank you for your cooperation."

  "Did I have a choice?"

  Thanopolous laughed. "No, you didn't. You'll be relieved to know we don't think you're insane. Our conclusion is the same as yours: something happened when the creature that infected you died within moments of your exposure. Therefore, we didn't get the typical reaction. To be honest, we don't know exactly what we got. There are changes within your body. So far, they haven't caused you any harm. At least, we don't think they have. Still, there's no certainty that in time there won't be a reaction. That puts us in a bit of a quandary. We have to decide whether to retire you, observe you, or allow you to continue your job. You're far too valuable to farm out or to stick inside a biosciences lab for the next two years. We'd like you to continue your work, but we're worried about this kitzloc thing. What if you became a babbling idiot at a critical moment while on a mission? It'd be a disaster."