by C. R. Daems
"Get what you needed?" Maclin asked when I rose.
"Yes, sir. Lieutenant Sinclair and I need to look it over."
"How long?"
"If there is something there, it could be an hour or a week," I said. Even though I thought we would know quickly, I didn't want to set his expectations too high.
"No rush, the trip to Eastar is ten days. Our navigator, Commander Dowell, will have things to do, but the rest of us will sit here like passengers on a bus. So hopefully, it will be an interesting puzzle that does take a week."
Back in the room, I copied the seven messages to Kris's tablet. She surveyed them quickly.
"What do you say we go eat? We missed the first shift meal, and I'm starved," Kris said. I nodded, and we made our way to the dining area. We had just sat down when Captain Sharat entered.
"Happy, Agent Paulus? I'll bet you are looking forward to the inquiry," she growled, her face clenched in anger.
"Captain Sharat, we have been informed by Captain Maclin that we are prohibited from talking to you per Admiral Webb's instructions. I don't know what will happen at the inquiry, but I know that your forcing a discussion with Agent Paulus would be a court-martial offense." Kris stood, positioning herself between Sharat and me.
"Do you blame me for being mad?"
"Yes, I do. You did what you thought was right, and Paulus did what she thought was right. You may believe her guilty of insubordination, but you have no right to blame her for your decisions." Kris's voice was low to avoid being overheard. Sharat stood quietly for a long time. You’re right, Lieutenant." Sharat turned and sat several tables away.
"Thank you," I said to Kris.
"You’re welcome. She's looking for a scapegoat, and you're convenient."
"I think I’m also looking for a scapegoat. I want to blame her for all those people being killed. Ironically, had she waited for support, an equal number would probably still have died. The smugglers are to blame."
We finished our meal with little talk. Back in the room, Kris was first to speak.
"Let's start wearing our weapons again. I don't think Sharat would do anything physical, but the smugglers worry me. I'm beginning to think their organization is bigger than even we thought, to involve UAS officers and enlisted personnel. I didn't enjoy being pushed down those stairs."
She picked up her tablet and began reading. It was almost immediately obvious who the one trading information for something was, since she had been the only one to send more than one message, but we had to review the others. So we quit early, agreeing with Maclin. The trip would take ten long boring days.
The next day, I found the key after about two hours. She had managed to hide her key better than the others and used different keys each time, but once I knew what I was looking for and that the message was coded, it was easy. I didn't tell Kris, as it gave her something interesting to do. But an hour later, she looked up smiling.
"All right, how long have you known?"
"Only about an hour."
"You cheat. Red gives you the answer." She laughed.
"I think you may be closer to the truth than you think. I wouldn't trust anyone else, because they would think I'm crazy, but I've long thought Red somehow helps me remember more, learn quicker, and think clearer." I hoped that wouldn't destroy our relationship. "Like why does he lie on my forehead while I'm reading?"
"It may be your imagination, or just having him a part of you for so long, but who's to know? Maybe the poison is a stimulus of some kind, or there’s something about the symbiotic relationship we don't understand. But you're right: I would be careful who you tell. I don't think you're crazy, and I do believe you may be right. Red does some very uncharacteristic things for a krait, like staying with me and not biting. He needs blood to survive, and I'm loaded with it."
"Thanks, Kris. Oh, did you notice the message to Oasis?"
"No. Oh, I disregarded that message when I focused on Petty Officer Reaves. Let me decode it. I need the practice."
"I left it for last. The captain isn't going to be happy, and I don't blame him." I began working on the message. Knowing the message was in code simplified the process, and I had the key and the message decoded in an hour. Kris finished several minutes later. I clapped.
"Red was very slow with the answer. I only finished a couple of minutes earlier. I guess we need to tell the captain. It will give him something to do."
"I don't know if unpleasant things qualify as things one would like as distractions to boredom. But you're right, let's go ruin his day." Kris opened the door, screamed, and jumped to the side as a laser beam cut its way through our cabinet. My leg went weak, and I fell to the floor while reaching for my laser, which I had decided to wear at Kris's suggestion. In my panic, my first several shots were wild, hitting the partially open door. But it caused the figure to move to the side out of view. As my panic eased, I sighted the laser slightly to the right of the opening and waited—my finger on the trigger ready to fire.
"Security," Kris shouted into her CPC. "Shots fired in the hallway of officers’ quarters. Room seventy-eight. Hurry. The shooter might still be outside."
Several minutes later, I heard voices coming down the hallway.
"No one here."
"Intersection clear."
I eased my finger off the trigger mechanism but stayed ready to fire if necessary.
"Don't shoot. Security." A few seconds later a head came into view. I lowered my laser and staggered to my feet, feeling unsteady.
"Kris!" I screamed. She was holding her arm and her sleeve was scorched halfway between her elbow and shoulder. "Call a medic," I shouted as I moved her hand to look.
It looked like it had hit more of her sleeve than her arm, but she was bleeding. A grizzled sergeant rushed through the door, weapon in his hand. He quickly scanned the room and lowered his weapon. "They’re on their way, ma'am. What happened?"
"Kris ... Lieutenant Sinclair opened the door to go out, and someone standing in the hallway shot into the room. When I fired back, the person—I don't know if it was a man or a woman—jumped to the side."
"Why were you wearing a laser, ma'am? I know you are authorized, but it's unusual for officers to wear them," the sergeant asked, his forehead wrinkled in a frown.
"Lieutenant Sinclair and I are NIA agents, and this isn't the first time someone has tried to kill us. We are somewhat paranoid at this point." I helped Kris to the bed as I talked.
He nodded. Not long after, two medics arrived, both petty officers with registered-nurse patches on their sleeves. By some private sign, the woman took me and the man Kris.
"She needs help, not me," I said indignantly.
"Please sit ... Lieutenant, and let me examine you. Your jacket has laser marks, so you might also have been hit." She gently removed my jacket and then jumped back as Red emerged and slid toward my neck. I reached out with my other hand and grabbed him, and he wrapped himself around my arm.
"Sorry, I forget he's there. It's safe now."
She hesitantly opened my blouse, which had bloodstains, and examined a six-centimeter cut.
"You were lucky," she said as she covered it with a pad and taped it in place. "Can you walk?" she asked as she stepped back. I nodded. "Good." She sighed with relief.
"I've called for a stretcher. Why don't you go ahead? We'll be there shortly," the male nurse said while taping Kris's arm. I wanted to stay but knew she was all right and I would just be in the way. When we reached the medical unit, the nurse got me settled and then spent some time in an animated talk with the doctor.
"I'm Doctor Salter. How are you feeling, Lieutenant Paulus? The captain did mention you have a krait living with you. But you need treatment ..."
"Yes, ma'am." I undressed as Red wound around my neck to stay out of the way. It took a while, and every movement brought a sharp response from my injured side. When I finished, I put on the gown she gave me and reached up and let Red wind around my arm. "There, Doctor. Red is out of
the way and won't leave my arm."
"How do you know?" she asked, looking somewhat amused.
"Fourteen years of experience. Besides, he's lazy," I quipped. She laughed.
"Since I have the antivenin, I trust you." She called in a couple of aids to help her as she cleaned the wound, sutured it up, and dressed it. "There, all done. You were right; he's lazy." She walked off smiling. I felt tired and lay back, intending to rest for only a few minutes. I was concerned about Kris, but it was four hours later when Salter stopped by to see me. She checked my temperature, and we got to talking about Red. An hour later, she helped me to Kris's room. I hadn't realized how weak I felt until my relief when I sat on the side of her bed and took her hand.
"How are you doing?" I asked. She looked pale.
"You're a dangerous person to be around. If I didn't like Red so much, I'd insist on separate rooms." She smiled, and I could see the pain it caused her. She was right. All my life people had been in danger because of me. I felt Red's tongue against my cheek, as if to say ... I didn't know how but somehow I knew he understood.
"Hey, knock it off. You're supposed to be cheering me up. We have upset the candy-wagon, and the owners are mad. They are desperate men hoping to make us go away. But like Sharat, Maclin, Thayer, and Hardgrove; we are not only not going away but we are going to chase them to extinction. You, Adrian, Wilber, me, and Red."
"Sorry. Looking on the bright side, you have to agree that the trip is no longer boring. And we will live to be shot at again," I said with a smile—a genuine smile, now that I knew Kris was going to be all right. She gave a short laugh, then winced from the pain it caused.
"Maybe a little less cheerful." She squeezed my hand. "Yes. We are both alive, so it's a good day."
Captain Maclin entered the room sometime later. Kris had dosed off, and I had curled up in a padded chair—too tired go back to my room and not wanting to leave Kris's company.
"How are you doing, Paulus?" he asked in a lowered voice.
"Tired, Captain. Lieutenant Sinclair’s and my wounds aren't life-threatening."
"Do you know who did this?"
"No. He or she ran off when I fired back."
"You know how to shoot?" he asked, and I felt his amusement.
"My mother insisted I be trained in all types of weapons, so she had a friend, Chief Ransom, teach me while I was at the Academy. I qualified with all the standard weapons all four years. But Lieutenant Sinclair and I identified a Petty Officer Reaves selling information for something, and you have someone sending Oasis information about your ship's itinerary."
"Who?" He seemed to grow and expand, and I could feel his anger.
"I don't know yet. We were on our way to see you when the incident occurred. The ones sending messages to Oasis tend to manipulate the system to make it appear someone else is sending the message. It will take a bit of digging to discover who."
"In the meantime, I've authorized you and Sinclair permanent security guards while you are assigned to the Vulcan." He looked at me and smiled. "I'll have them wheel your bed in here. I think you'd be more comfortable and sleep better. You're very fond of her, as she is of you." He left and shortly afterward my bed was wheeled in. I barely remember getting into it.
* * *
Two days later and accompanied by my two-man security team, I visited the marine area and sought out Corporal Bennett, who insisted he hadn't sent a message to Oasis, which I had suspected but had to verify. I then made my way to the Bridge, anxious to resolve our mystery Oasis-writer’s identity. He was either the shooter or the one who enticed the shooter to seek us out. After thanking the captain for his kindness the other day, I was given access to the Comm panel and the system computer. As I suspected, the charge for the message had been reversed and sent to Junior Lieutenant Toney, the third-shift Comm officer. Within minutes of handing my finding to Maclin, Toney was in custody. For the rest of the trip, I filled in as the Comm officer on third shift, and all too quickly, the ten days were up and we were exiting the Wave into Eastar. I found myself wishing the trip were longer. I sat next to Kris, watching her search the WavCom because it was first shift and I wasn't the Comm officer. To my surprise, a message marked urgent appeared on my tablet from Admiral Rawls.
To: Lieutenants Sinclair and Paulus, Captain Maclin.
Lieutenant Shrader was attacked and wounded while on planet-side leave on Stone Ring. His wounds are serious, but he will recover. Lieutenant Weiss was attacked while on planet-side leave on Black Water and killed. Take extreme caution while on Eastar and return to Oxax as soon as possible. Signed, Admiral Rawls.
"Nooooo," I wailed. When Kris turned to me, I showed her the message. Tears filled her eyes as she read. I said, "It's payback. Their network has identified the four of us as the cause of their losses."
"Yes," Kris said so quietly I almost didn't hear. "They want revenge. You need to wear a protective vest. Even a shot that didn’t kill you might kill Red, then ..." She stopped as tears rolled down her cheeks. I’d die, I finished.
"Sinclair, Paulus, in my office," Maclin said as he rose. Kris and I followed. Inside, he waved us to chairs, poured three glasses of wine, and gave us each one. "Drink. What do you want to do? I can notify the Inquiry Board that it isn't safe for you to attend. Maybe they will let you testify via telecom." He stared at us, awaiting an answer. Kris and I looked at each other, also looking for answers.
"I'll go. Captain Sharat has a right to have me present for questions, and the Inquiry Members will probably want to hear me firsthand to decide whether my actions require a letter of reprimand or something more."
"You go, I go. I was a witness to the ... conversation." Her lip twitched, and I felt her amusement. Conversation, was a stretch.
"I guess I'll go along too with extra security. I'm interested in the outcome. This feels like one of those Supreme Court rulings on old-Earth: is it ever appropriate to tell your captain she's an idiot?" He laughed. "Sorry, I know this is serious, but sometimes it's better to focus on the comedy rather than the tragedy."
* * *
The next day, Kris, Maclin, six armed marines, and I went in the captain's shuttle to New Hope, the capital city of Eastar. There, we were transported by an armed military shuttle to the Navy Headquarters Building and escorted to the courtroom on the fortieth floor. To my surprise, Admiral Rawls and Commander Stauffer were present. Commander Stauffer was called to describe the project team's mission, our success in identifying the merchants, and the breaking of the smugglers' code—and to answer a series of questions about Kris and me. Admiral Rawls was called next and asked to give the background leading to the three-cruiser search-and-destroy mission and each captain's assigned area. Captain Sharat was then called and questioned on her actions leading up to and including the decision to go to the rendezvous alone.
"It was a judgment call. I decided waiting might cause the smugglers to abandon the area. Having encountered the smugglers once before, I felt I knew what the enemy brought to the fight and figured that even if they outnumbered me, Alliance crews were better trained, so we could give better than we got."
Then they called Kris. She was asked a series of questions concerning me and finally to recount the confrontation between Sharat and me.
"Yes, sir," she said to the commander conducting the questioning. "The conversation was heated, but NIA Agent Paulus said nothing I wouldn't have said if she hadn't said it first. You can't plead your case quietly when you believe the action will result in hundreds of lives needlessly lost. And yes, I agreed with her actions in sending those messages. The other NIA agents needed to be warned—and why not ask for help if it's available."
Then it was my turn.
"You are very young for a lieutenant or for an NIA Agent, aren't you?"
"That's not really relevant, is it sir? I am a lieutenant and an agent, and consequently I am as responsible as any other lieutenant or agent," I said, refusing to play word games. Wilber's killing and Adrian and Kris
's near survivals had me in turmoil. I reached up to touch Red, who had his head on my shoulder, watching the commander. The touch calmed me.
"True. Do you feel the NIA has the right to override a captain's orders or to dictate what she should do?"
"I don't believe I ever ordered Captain Sharat to do one thing or the other. No, the decision was hers to make. I merely told her what the NIA had found and pleaded for caution. You have the Bridge recording. I'm not saying I was right or wrong. That is for you to decide. But I will tell you that under similar circumstances where I thought the lives of five hundred sailors and marines were being recklessly endangered, I would do it again."
* * *
"Wow, when you and Red get going, you don't mince words," Kris said as we sat in the waiting room while the inquiry board deliberated Sharat and my faith.
"Red made me do it," I quipped.
"I have to admit that was a unique defense—I'd do it again." Maclin snorted. He had chosen to stay with us to hear the verdict. I suspect it was as much to hear Sharat's fate as mine. Six hours later, we were told the Inquiry would resume in fifteen minutes.
"That was quick," Maclin said, and I could feel his unease. "Means they didn't deliberate much."
"Nervous?" Kris asked, looking at me.
"No. I'll be more concerned to hear what Admiral Rawls and Commander Stauffer think. I like working for the NIA. The navy doesn't matter to me. Red would keep me off cruisers, so it's not important."
Inside the courtroom, the five-member board took their seats, and after court the clerk called for order, the senior member, a Vice Admiral, rose.
"An interesting case, which could and probably will have many ramifications. We find that Captain Sharat was aggressive to the point of recklessness given she had reason to believe it was a trap; however, it was a judgment call that was hers to make. We can't judge her by the results, for that is hindsight. So, no charges will be pursued. As for the conduct of Lieutenant Paulus, we find she acted responsibly in pursuing the matter and confronting Captain Sharat with the information the NIA had obtained. Her passion is understandable, given the information she had and the probability that many lives could be lost. But the military is not a democracy, and order must be maintained, so we recommend a letter of reprimand be placed in her file. As to her unprecedented urgent request for help, we find that an NIA issue and leave that for Admiral Rawls to handle. This inquiry is closed."