Pathogen Protocol (Anghazi Book 2)

by Darren Beyer

  And that gave her opponent a window. He pulled a knife from his belt and launched himself toward her. Mandi regained her senses, but too late. Erik’s man thrust the knife into her midsection.

  She screamed.

  “Yessss,” Erik hissed.

  The man’s arm drew back for another strike. Grae’s heart sank, but then three muffled shots sounded, and Erik’s man floated backward away from Mandi. Blobs of blood released from his back and abdomen and collected in spheres along his path.

  Mandi was gasping and holding a hand tightly against the her side. Grae saw Erik’s gaze dart across the central hub and settle on the pistol of the man whose blood now littered the space with floating red spheres. Grae thought to make a move for the weapon as well, but he stopped himself. Instead he readied himself to counter his opponent’s move.

  As Erik launched himself toward the pistol, Grae kicked at Erik’s legs, throwing off his line of flight. Erik’s face contorted in a snarl—a snarl that turned to surprise at the sight of Mandi pulling herself upright and bracing against the door with her pistol still in hand. But he wasn’t done. As he drifted near the wall beneath him, he brought his legs to his chest in a crouch, then pushed off diagonally toward his only avenue of escape—an open elevator door in the central hub. Mandi fired twice, but both shots harmlessly struck the walls of the hub.

  As the elevator door began to close behind Erik, Grae heard the man calling through his comm.

  “Lock down the bulkhead doors on central hub, and disable all the elevators except number four—keep four active!”

  The bulkhead next to Grae began closing as well, and he awkwardly pushed himself past it into the hub and over to Mandi. He was surprised to see no blood on her midsection—only a few loose fibers torn on the suit. When she raised her faceplate to him, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  “Your face,” she said. “What did he do to you?”

  Grae felt frustration grow. “My face? Forget about my face! What the hell are you doing here?”

  “What am I doing here? I’m saving you!” Mandi scowled. “You asshole!”

  Then with both hands she grabbed Grae by the head, pulled him close, and kissed him hard through her open faceplate. For a moment he returned the kiss, but then he shook his head and pulled back.

  “Not now.” He managed a smile. Twisting his body, he showed her the restraints that bound his hands, then looked to the body resting on the opposite side of the now-locked hub. His knife was still in his hand.

  “Can you get his knife and cut me loose?”

  Mandi pushed her way to the body, grimacing and holding her chest as she went.

  “And about that knife,” Grae said. “How did it not cut through your suit?”

  “I don’t know. It did the same thing at Ouricsen. I’ll have to ask OLIVER.”

  “Oliver?”

  Mandi pried the knife from the dead man’s grip and pushed back toward Grae. “He says the suit is nanoweave. Something about it automatically hardening to stop a puncture.” She grunted as she pulled herself to a stop beside him. “But it doesn’t stop it from hurting.”

  She cut Grae free.

  “Better than the alternative,” he said, rubbing his wrists. “Who is Oliver?”

  Mandi raised a single eyebrow. “I’ll tell you later.”

  Grae retrieved the guard’s pistol, then moved to the man’s body and relieved it of two full magazines. As he floated to the elevator doors Erik had escaped through, he replaced the nearly empty mag in the pistol with a full one.

  “Shit. He’s gone.” He looked at Mandi, and at the sealed bulkhead door behind her. “And that thing is between us and whatever ship you came in on.”

  Mandi launched herself to where her black duffel had come to rest. She grabbed it and flung it to Grae. “Look inside.”

  The duffel was already unzipped, and Grae pulled out a white box wrapped with a black cable. “This is a breaching charge.”

  “I know. Use it on the door.”

  “This is a daisy chain cable, not a trigger.” Grae turned it over, looking at all sides. “I could short the wires and set it off, but that door could take a direct hit from a cruise missile. A single breach charge will barely dent it.”

  “So, what do we—”

  Suddenly Mandi cried out and doubled over, her face contorted in a grimace

  Chapter 60: New Reyk Station

  The wave of nausea coursing through Mandi’s body felt identical to the effects of jump sickness. But as quickly as it hit, it was gone.

  She looked up to find Grae at her side, his hand gently on her midsection where the knife had struck her suit.

  “You might have internal injuries.”

  “No.” Mandi pushed his hand away. “It’s not that.” She turned to the bulkhead. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

  “Mandi, no. First tell me what just happened to you.”

  She sighed. “Nassir told me—”

  “Nassir? You were with him?”

  “I am with him. He’s here.” Mandi slapped her hand on the door. “And he just set a bomb to go off.”

  “What? Here? Why would he want to destroy this station?”

  “Not the station.” Mandi dropped her head. “The hyperium. Andrews moved all the hyperium out of the Sol system—to this station.”

  “Shit.” Grae paused. “Andrews is dead.”

  Mandi turned in surprise.

  “Erik Hallerson killed him,” Grae continued. “He’s been playing Andrews all along.”

  A thump shook the door, and another, stronger wave of nausea washed over Mandi. She doubled over as the station shuddered.

  “What the hell was that?” Grae said.

  “Nassir.” Mandi gritted her teeth. “I’m guessing those were the other breach charges.” As the sensation passed, she managed to slide open her eyelids and look through the tops of her eyes at Grae. “So. How do we get back to Nassir’s ship?”

  Grae spun and looked to the four elevator doors that led to the outer, spinning ring of the station. “We don’t.”

  He slung the duffel over his shoulder and jumped to the elevator Erik had used to escape. He opened a panel at its side and pulled a yellow-striped handle. With a clunk, the elevator doors slid open a few centimeters. Grae slipped his fingers into the crack and forced them open enough to squeeze through.

  He turned back to Mandi. “Let’s go.”

  Mandi slipped through into the cavity that normally housed waiting elevators. The massive shaft extended well beyond her range of vision. Three guide rails extended along its length, supported by grated platforms every twenty meters. A single ladder ran along one side.

  Grae pulled next to her. “Follow me. The farther we go, the more gravity will kick in, so be careful—and the platforms hurt when you hit them.”

  “How do you know about this?”

  “I spent time here when the station was in shakedown. I used to exercise in the elevator shafts. Now come on. There’s a maintenance airlock just a little way down. That’s our way out.” He kicked himself down the shaft, catching the ladder where it went through the first platform, then waved for Mandi to follow.

  Tentatively, she kicked toward him. Before she’d gone halfway, she realized she’d misjudged, and was going to hit the side before she reached the platform where Grae waited. Holding her hands in front of her, she softened the impact and worked her way along the wall.

  “The station is rotating,” Grae said. “Aim a little toward the center.” He leapt toward the next platform.

  “Mandi.” It was OLIVER. “I am detecting a drop in air pressure. I suggest you close and lock your visor. And might I remind you—”

  “Not now, OLIVER. Grae!”

  Down the shaft, Grae flailed his arms and struck the platform he’d been aiming for. Cartwheeling off of it, he tumbled toward the next one.

  Mandi slammed her visor shut and jumped after him, this time aiming more toward the cente
r of the shaft. As Grae had told her, she curved toward the next platform. Without pausing, she shot off again, aiming for Grae, who was still tumbling. The leap wasn’t perfect, but it brought her within arm’s reach, and she grabbed hold of the duffel around Grae’s shoulder.

  Together, she and Grae spun, and as they neared the platform that led to the maintenance airlock, she was just barely able to grasp its edge.

  The tug of artificial gravity from the station’s spin had begun to exert itself here, threatening to pull Grae from her grasp. Screaming into her helmet, she swung the duffel and Grae together around to the top of the platform, then swung herself up and looked at his face.

  “Hallerson…” Grae was barely conscious. “Venting the shaft—airlock.”

  Looking up, Mandi saw the inner door to the maintenance airlock on the side of the shaft. She dragged Grae to it, opened the door, and pulled him inside, then closed the door and hit the “Lock Pressurize” button.

  When the pressure indicator turned green, Mandi threw open her visor. “Grae!”

  He didn’t respond. “Grae, wake up!”

  When he still didn’t move, Mandi slapped him hard across the face. But before she could call his name again, the station shuddered, throwing her backward, and another wave of jump sickness nausea hit. She closed her eyes and fought to keep from curling into a ball.

  How many seconds passed, Mandi didn’t know. What remained of her consciousness was fully focused on keeping the contents of her stomach from spilling out. When finally the sensation ebbed enough for her to open her eyes, she found Grae conscious once more. He had opened the airlock’s suit locker and was struggling to put on a pressure suit.

  “The charge,” he said, sounding groggy. He pointed to the duffel. “Hurry.”

  Holding her stomach, Mandi pushed herself across the lock floor to the duffel, slid it to him, and rolled onto her back. When another wave washed over her, she rolled onto her side and vomited onto the floor.

  “Grae—it’s happening.”

  Her vision flashed, and a moment’s respite allowed her to look toward Grae. He had apparently been hit by jump sickness as well, as he had fallen to the floor in agony. He had at least managed to unroll the cable first and had cut the connector from its end, and he now held two exposed wires in his hand. He had also already mounted the breach charge to the outer airlock door.

  Again Mandi’s vision flashed. She crawled across the floor and took the two wires from his hand.

  “The wires,” Grae said through clenched teeth, pointing to a power outlet in the wall next to him.

  Mandi pulled the wires as far apart as she could make them go, and fell over top of Grae reaching for the outlet. As she put one wire in each side, she felt Grae tug at her waist. A bright flash filled the compartment. Mandi’s ears popped, and her hearing left her. Bursts of white and dark passed across her vision as she was yanked away from Grae. When she tried to take a breath, no air came into her lungs, and her sight left her.

  She was confused for only a moment, then cursed her stupidity and reached up to close her visor. She took a desperate gasp of air into her lungs. Her vision returned, and a cascade of stars flowed past her visor. She gasped when the planet Eridani rotated into view. But the station… The station was gone. It had disappeared.

  A tug at her waist made her turn. Grae floated into view. He had tethered his own pressure suit to hers, and was pulling her in with the cable attached to a hook at her beltline.

  “Grae.” Tears began to flow. “I thought—I don’t know what I thought. And the station— where the hell is the station?”

  Grae brought his hand to the side of helmet and tapped it where his ear would be.

  “Shit,” Mandi said. “Where’s OLIVER when you need him?”

  “I am here, Mandi.”

  “Oh my God.” Mandi let out a chuckle that was as much sob as laugh. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

  “May I remind you—”

  “Wait, OLIVER. There’s a person next to me in a suit. I need to pair my communications with him.”

  “Of course, Mandi.” There was a pause. “Your communications are now paired.”

  Mandi looked at Grae. “Can you hear me?”

  “I got you. The station’s gone—it’s totally gone! There’s no debris, no nothing!”

  “I know! Where did it go?”

  “Mandi,” OLIVER interrupted. “Is now a good time to remind you that your suit’s solid air supply is at a critical level? The last time you wore the suit, you turned off the alarm.”

  “Shit! Suit HUD on!”

  In the lower corner of the helmet’s display, a blinking, red “Air Level: 3%” alert flashed.

  “My God. OLIVER, what can I do?” she said.

  “I have your location from the control unit in your suit. I am maneuvering the Catarro to intercept.”

  “You got the ship free.” Mandi let out a laugh. “Oh, OLIVER…”

  “Did I say something funny?”

  Mandi laughed even harder.

  “May I point out that laughter uses more oxygen than controlled breathing, and given your current critical oxygen level, it might be prudent to stop?”

  Mandi slowed her laughing and sobered. “OLIVER, what about Nassir?”

  “I’m here, Mandisa,” Nassir said. “Three of us made it back to the ship. I would have been long gone by now, but this glorified autocab driver won’t relinquish the ship. He keeps spouting something about control priority.”

  Mandi began laughing again. Seeing Grae’s confused look only made her laugh all the harder.

  “Mandi?” Grae said. “Mandi!”

  She stopped.

  “Who the hell is Oliver?”

  Chapter 61: Deep Space

  Erik stared past the distorted cargo pod, through the hole that had once been a cargo hold door, and into the charred, empty space that had once held all his hyperium. Some small amounts remained along the edges of the hold. Pushed there by force of the “explosion,” it formed tiny, uneven copper-gold colored ramps. The rest was gone.

  His lead security officer floated up to him in silence.

  Erik did not turn to address him. “Did you find out how they did it?”

  “They brought in a device in the cargo pod.”

  Erik turned to him and glared.

  The officer swallowed hard. “We think it was some kind of hyperium bomb. It started a chain reaction with the hyperium we had in the cargo lock, and created a wormhole. We were taken through it. With our proximity to Eridani, and the size of the station, the reaction consumed all the hyperium. And it all but destroyed the coils of the two interstellar ships docked with us.”

  “Do we know where we are yet?”

  “No, but it shouldn’t take long to get a position. Once we positively identify two stars, we can triangulate.”

  Erik let out an unemotional grunt. “What about the station’s systems?

  “The fusion reactor shut down during the… the event. But it was just the safeties kicking in. We’ll have it back online within the hour. Backup power was unaffected, and comms will be active shortly. With the exception of shaft four, the elevators are pressurized and working again. If not for the fact that there’s no planet for us to orbit, I would say we’d be in nominal operating status within twenty hours.”

  Erik stared at the mess in front of him, then dismissed his man with a wave.

  Long minutes passed before Erik finally lifted his head and made his way to the central hub. The elevator ride was the longest he had ever taken. But with the increasing gravity, so came increasing emotions—motivation.

  Exiting the elevator, he turned to go to his berth, but stopped himself. Instead he walked briskly in the opposite direction to a room labeled “Medical Lab Three.” He opened the door, took one step across the threshold, and stopped to stare at the sedated man strapped to a hospital bed. Behind the bed, a bank of clear cylindrical tanks held some forms of embryos suspended in a transluce
nt, bubbling green solution.

  Erik walked to the bed and looked up and down the man’s motionless body.

  “Jans Mikel. For the second time, your people have gotten in my way. Only now, they could not save you.”

  Erik ran his hand gently along Jans’s left arm and took in a deep, hissing breath.

  “My plans are in ruin, but I will yet attain my goal.”

  Erik looked at the embryos, then leaned in close to Jans’s face.

  “And you are going to help me.”

  To be continued…

  Acknowledgements

  I never thought it would take me more than two years to release the second book of the Anghazi Series, but in many ways, Pathogen Protocol presented more challenges than Casimir Bridge. As with my first novel, I couldn’t have gotten here without the help and support of many people.

  Just as she did with my first book, my mother, Jinny Beyer, an author herself, provided invaluable feedback and assisted me during proofing.

  Nearly every week, I met with Amelie De Mahy, and we each discussed our writing projects. I presented numerous concepts, plot devices, and settings, and Amelie replied with her unfettered feedback. The book would not be in its current form without her.

  My wife, Terri, my brother, Sean, and other family members each provided their own support.

  Again, Game of Thrones cover artist Stephen Youll provided a stunning depiction of a scene in the story, Mandi’s landing on an alien planet.

  Victoria Mixon continued as my developmental editor, and again provided wonderful feedback during her many reviews. David Gatewood provided an exceptional copy edit, and Nowick Gray and Jena O’Connor provided proofreading.

  To all these people and many others who helped along the way, thank you. I could not have done it without you.

  Lastly, I’d like to thank you, the readers. Without you, none of this would be possible. Indie authors like me rely heavily on reviews to differentiate our work and get it noticed. Please leave a review on Amazon, Goodreads, Smashwords, or wherever you frequent.