Broken Halo (Wayfarers)

by Debenham, Kindal

  She tried to keep her voice calm. “Those explanations were suggested to me, yes. Given the garbled nature of your signals before the … incident, I considered it worth the risk to transfer you back to the Concord and have you checked out.”

  Gabriel wheeled on her, his face exasperated. “Susan, you’ve given anyone who wants to question my credibility a perfect weapon. Whether the techs find anything wrong with my rig or not, whether the doctors find anything wrong with me or not, they’re just going to pick up on the fact that I needed to have my sanity checked before you let me return to duty.” He made a wide gesture with both arms, as if he was tossing something into the air. “Not to mention the fact that you could’ve exposed the entire fleet if the Directorate had come into the system and detected the rig transfer! What were you thinking?”

  She met his gaze and lifted her chin a fraction. “I made the decision out of consideration for all the factors available to me, Captain Miller. It was worth the risk.”

  Any Directorate officer would have taken her tone as a warning to break off the conversation. Unfortunately, Gabriel did not take after a Directorate officer in any way. “Well, of course it would be. All you would be risking is my reputation—and the safety of the entire fleet. Not much at all when you think about it.”

  Susan’s eyes narrowed. Anger started to burn slow and strong as she answered him. “Captain Gabriel, please remember who you are talking to. If you were a Directorate pilot, you’d be facing brig time, not reassignment. You’re lucky I don’t suspend your flight privileges.”

  Gabriel bristled at the response, and he glared at her. “Lucky, am I? Even though I’m trying to report a serious possible threat to the fleet? What happened to you being able to trust me?”

  She leaned forward, still clutching the arms of her chair hard enough to dig her fingers into the molded plastic. “This is not about trust, Gabriel. This is about your well-being.” Gabriel came to a sudden halt, his back to her, and Susan felt her voice grow harsh as she continued. “You endured significant trauma during the last battle. Any pilot could face severe consequences as a result of that trauma, and it would be no surprise for any of our medical personnel if there was some lingering problem with you or your BCI as a result. From what they were telling me, the problem might start getting worse over time if it isn’t treated now.”

  Gabriel spoke without turning back to her. “You don’t know there’s a problem, Admiral. There isn’t one. The rig I saw—the ship I saw—they’re out there.”

  “And if they are, we’ll find them.” Susan tried to keep the note of pleading out of her voice, but she couldn’t quite manage it. “But for now, Captain, I need to make sure you’re safe. You can’t be angry with me for worrying about you.”

  There was a long, unsteady silence. Then Gabriel turned around and looked at her. “You were worried about me?” Susan felt her face grow hot, but he continued before she could respond. “Then I guess I can’t be too mad at you. I do some pretty stupid things, after all.”

  Then his expression grew more serious. “All the same, Susan, those things are out there. No matter what you think might be going on with me, something cascaded into the system, and no one has found any sign of it yet. If I’m right, it’s got defensive screens unlike anything we’ve ever seen, and rig deployment capability on top of that. If the rig I met in the last system is the same one I saw here, they might even be tracking us. Worst of all, we know nothing about their intentions.” Gabe stopped and shook his head. “Crazy or not, this is something you need to consider carefully.”

  Susan studied him for a moment, and then tapped a control on her display. The image of the alien rig Gabriel had encountered sprang up between them, projected by her computer. His eyes instantly locked onto that image, and he stared at it for a moment before returning his gaze to her. Another image appeared, this time the indistinct sensor contacts Gabriel had caught of the strange vessel, followed by other, smaller images of the unknown rig in motion. She gestured to them. “I’ve already distributed the sensor data to the other rig pilots in the fleet, Captain Miller. Most of them seem to be skeptical of it—some of them were already starting to suggest that you had cracked before I asked you to come back to the Concord.”

  Gabriel’s expression went grim. “So they don’t believe me either.”

  She shook her head. “You’re asking for quite a bit of trust, Gabriel. A new, unknown rig that no one else can see, and a carrier that looks like some kind of nightmarish monster? They’re more likely to believe the resonance burst we detected was some kind of fluke reading and that your BCI is malfunctioning. Some are even saying that the mercenaries are sabotaging your rig, planting hallucinations in the interface.” Then she met his gaze. “Without some kind of proof to the contrary, they’ll most likely keep believing those excuses—which means that medical tests or not, they’ll start to lose faith in you.”

  Realization dawned in his eyes, and Gabriel nodded. “So the tests aren’t just to make sure I’m okay. You needed evidence that I’m sane to convince whoever will listen that what I saw was real.”

  “There will still be some who doubt you, Gabriel, no matter what we tell them.” She gestured to the images with one sharp motion. “There’s enough to worry about with just the Directorate out there. The everyday soldier in the fleet does not want an alien warship shadowing us too.

  “Which is why, Captain Miller, I needed to be sure about your report. Too much is at risk for us to accept anything less than complete confirmation. Not because I don’t believe you, or because I’m disregarding you opinion, but because I have a healthy respect for what happens when a commander undermines his or her authority by raising the alarm at every unknown.”

  Susan paused, letting those words sink in. When she continued, she disciplined her voice back to its professional neutrality. “Now, in your experienced, skilled observation, Captain Miller, do these things present any direct threat to our continued operations here?”

  “No, Admiral.” Gabriel met her stare with a still-defiant expression, but his posture was far more suitably chagrined than it had been at the start. “From what I’ve seen, they seem far more curious than aggressive, though they are very concerned about whatever this Atanaas is.” He shrugged. “Their capabilities would make them extremely dangerous, though. I wouldn’t want to be the one to find out exactly how accurate their weapons are, and how powerful those shots will be. That capital ship was unlike anything I’d ever seen before; I don’t know if we could even find the thing, let alone destroy it.”

  She nodded; her own thoughts had followed a parallel course to his. “And your recommendations, Captain?”

  Gabriel answered with no hesitation. “We need to brief the rest of the rig pilots about what they should do during contact. The last thing we need is for one or the other of us to start shooting based on a misunderstanding, not while the Directorate’s after us.”

  “Good.” Susan tapped another control, and the slender rig vanished. “Your meeting with the doctors is in about an hour. Technicians are already going over your rig looking for signs of malfunction or tampering. I expect you to cooperate with both groups until they certify that there is nothing wrong with your machine or your mind.”

  He did not seem enthusiastic about the assignment, but he nodded. Susan sighed and sat back down. “Now, is there anything else we need to talk about? Or can you trust me to handle things while you are at medical?”

  Gabriel grunted. “Sorry, Admiral. Didn’t mean to step on your toes.” He looked to where the rig had been and his eyes grew distant. “I meant what I said, though. Whatever those things are and wherever they are from, the last thing we need is for them to decide that we’re unfriendly. They could do an awful lot of damage if they chose to, and it would get very ugly, very fast, if we don’t plan for it.”

  Susan drummed her fingers on the console. The situation was already rather ugly on its own, let alone whatever fresh disasters these aliens represented.
“I will take that into consideration, Gabriel. I won’t forget your advice, and we will be ready for that possibility if it occurs.” She shrugged. “It’s my hope, however, that this meeting was a simple coincidence. I would not be disappointed if we never see them again.”

  “You and me both, Susan.” Gabriel turned back toward the door. He stopped just at the doorway. “And Susan? Thanks.”

  She nodded, and he left. Then she brought up the image of the slender rig again and glared at it. Why was it that every time she had begun to get a handle on things, the universe decided to throw another wrench into her plans? It was almost enough to convince her that fate existed, and worse, that it had taken an interest in a certain former Directorate officer.

  With a sigh, Susan switched the console off. She had a meeting with the engineering staff in ten minutes, and she could not afford to be late. There was still a lot left to do.

  Gabe strode through the corridors of the Concord and tried not to grit his teeth in frustration. Susan had told him many times that as effective as that gesture could be in expressing anger or relieving stress, it also served as an emotional tell-tale to his subordinates. If he wanted people to depend on him, he would need to keep his cool and give away none of his own emotions.

  Perhaps someday the Lord would help him with that, but Gabe sincerely doubted that it would happen this day. His patience had already been pushed to the limit by the skepticism his reports had generated within the fleet, but even the interview with Susan couldn’t have prepared him for the outright derision many of the civilians now expressed for his judgment. The doctors had reflected that attitude; even with his history as a successful leader, the medical personnel had acted bored, incredulous, or just plain amused at his situation during the tests, and the techs working on his rig had not been much better. The fact that he had passed all of their trials with flying colors seemed to baffle them, which was the only source of satisfaction Gabe had enjoyed during the ordeal. He only hoped that enough of his pilots were listening; the last thing he wanted was for them to go to guns the instant the unknowns showed up on their scanners.

  Now Gabe had to sit on the Concord and wait for the next shoe to drop. Whether the Directorate arrived or the aliens showed up again, he had nothing left to prepare for. Inaction was just as infuriating as the skepticism and he wished that he was scheduled to leave for the Penance soon, if only to be out in the area where he’d made contact with the newcomers. Anything would have been better than sitting on his hands while the fleet laughed at him.

  He came around a corner and nearly ran into his father, who was coming from the opposite direction. Elder Miller jumped as if startled, and then laughed. The Speaker poked Gabe in the stomach with the end of his cane. “Gabriel! It’s good to run into you here, as it were. It feels as if we haven’t had much time to catch up recently.”

  Gabe rubbed at his sternum, massaging away the soreness from the poke. “Hey, Dad. Sorry. I’ve been a little busy lately.”

  “So I hear!” Elder Miller’s eyes twinkled with mischief, and Gabe prepared himself for an inevitable barrage of jokes. “Come, walk with me. I came to speak with Admiral Delacourt, but I have plenty of time before I need to return to the Summer Rain.”

  Shepherded by his father’s cane, Gabe fell into step alongside the Speaker. They walked for a time, and Elder Miller slowly pried the details of Gabe’s experiences out of him. It was nerve-racking to explain everything—Gabe didn’t know whether to expect derision and skepticism or a simple acceptance of everything he’d said. By the time he finished his report on the brief contact near the cascade zone, he felt worn out, as if he’d exhausted his strength in a marathon. “So that’s it. Not many people believe what happened, but that’s what I know went on.”

  “Hmm.” The Speaker seemed faintly amused, but his voice was serious when he answered. “And do you agree with her that these newcomers are not an immediate danger, Gabriel?”

  Gabe nodded. “Yes, I do. I still can’t quite agree that they aren’t an important factor in all this, though. If we could somehow convince them to stand with us, it might mean the difference between victory and defeat when we have to fight the Directorate.”

  Elder Miller considered that statement for a moment before he responded. “I believe that Delacourt doesn’t want to fight the Directorate, Gabriel. Her plans involve misdirecting and avoiding them—and I approve of that strategy. It’s very possible that even with these newcomers as allies, we would not have the ability to defeat the ships the Known Worlds has sent to destroy us, and even if we did …” He shook his head. “Would we want the blood of soldiers on our hands? Men and women whose only sin is following the orders of their superiors? Worse, would their deaths spur the Known Worlds to send more of them to hunt us down? A battle against them is something we may not ever truly win.”

  “I know, Father.” Gabe clenched and unclenched his fingers, feeling the urge to punch something. “I just—it’s just so frustrating! I know what I saw and I have proof enough for anybody willing to listen, but everyone still treats me like I’m insane. There are a few people who know better, but most everyone else just sits aside and mocks me.”

  “Hmm.” The Speaker’s eyes were twinkling again, and that faint hint of amusement had grown much stronger. “That must be a very frustrating situation. There would be a lot of pressure to lash out, to try to make someone believe you.”

  Gabe threw up his hands. “Exactly! It might be one of the most important pieces of information we’ve learned while we’ve been out here, but I can’t get anyone to listen to me. You have no idea how—” Then his brain caught up with his mouth, and Gabe blinked. He came to a stop and stared at his father, taking in his bemused grin and the expectant look in his eyes. When he finally spoke, he felt a little embarrassed. “All right. Tell me, how do you deal with it?”

  Elder Miller laughed. “Well, I do wish I had a few sensor records to point to, if that’s what you mean.” He motioned for them to continue their walk, and Gabe fell in beside him once more. “Gabriel, the Lord sometimes asks us to speak uncomfortable truths, to challenge what those around us believe to be true. There are times when He allows us to struggle on our own to convince others, but you must remember something crucial. He has a plan for His children, and the truth will be revealed to everyone in His own due time.”

  The Speaker’s eyes grew distant. “The urge to force others to agree with our point of view is not a part of His plan. You should never allow yourself to give in to those feelings. They will cloud your mind and keep you from walking in His paths. No good can come from them.” He swatted at Gabriel lightly with his cane. “Listening to your father, my son? Use your persuasive talents, but do not let your temper rule you.”

  Grinning, Gabriel fended off the assault. “Yeah, yeah, I heard you. Fount of all wisdom and so on.” His father chuckled a bit and they continued their walk in comfortable silence. Gabriel enjoyed that moment of peace, and then Elder Miller spoke again. The words were deceptively innocent, putting Gabe instantly on guard.

  “I am curious about one part of your story, though. You said the other pilot spoke with you?”

  Gabriel nodded, wondering where his father was going with the question. His worries were confirmed when a wide smile blossomed on the Speaker’s face.

  “Then I would be very interested in hearing those signals myself. Would you care to show them to me?”

  Susan straightened as the engineer’s words sank in. “You’re telling me you have no idea what this place is, Chief?”

  Chief Kowalski managed to look both chagrined and frustrated at the same time. “That’s right, Admiral.” He rapped his knuckles against the door behind him. “I’m afraid I’ve never seen anything like this room before, not on any ship I’ve served on or in any technical manual I’ve had access to. Whatever purpose this room is meant to serve, it must have been something special, though. They obviously spared no expense on security.”

  Susan nodded. The
chief engineer’s statement seemed to be a bit of an understatement. She’d walked past nearly five different Merr-Sid turrets—all carefully powered down and deactivated, of course—which suggested a level of paranoia and caution that defied her expectations. The highest level of security she had ever encountered before had been as a visiting ensign on a fleet flagship. There, a single Merr-Sid had been installed outside the access hallway for the flag deck, and that had been all. Further, that turret had only been there because the ship was an obsolete wreck.

  Which begged the obvious question: What had someone been so careful to protect with five such turrets, in addition to whatever other booby traps her engineers had deactivated? Susan looked at the door carefully. “Has the room already been opened?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Chief Kowalski looked momentarily abashed. “The security boys were insistent on checking things out before we brought you down, and we weren’t sure if there was another trap at the entryway, so …”

  Susan waved off the excuses. “Don’t worry yourself, Chief Kowalski.” She stepped forward. “Let’s see what all this has been about then, shall we?”

  Chief Kowalski obediently stepped to the controls and began to crank the manual access interface. In case of a loss of power, each door on the Concord had been provided with a way to generate a low-level amount of electricity to shift aside a doorway. Judging by the chief’s efforts, the door to this room required quite a bit of power to move, but eventually it slid open. The work lights, set on stands to illuminate the winding access corridor, barely penetrated the unlit interior.

  A flood of musty air came out of the opening, and Susan shifted her hand light to probe the darkness within. The light played across a circular room broad enough to be a small conference chamber or recreational center. Susan’s lips quirked as she thought of wasting so much effort just to find some bureaucrat’s long-lost meeting place, or perhaps an admiral’s favorite card-playing spot. Then she stilled her expression and took a step forward.