by Greg Curtis
“Um yes, Doctor. Major?” But he had the feeling her comments weren’t directed at him as much as they were Mark and Ryal. His minders.
“Captain, from this moment on the Targ is on a war footing. As is every other Force vessel. I want the crew in top shape to fight whatever the Kaiwhare come up with. Doctor Chalmers is right in one thing. It’s obvious that they have a fleet somewhere out there. And with it some damned advanced technology. From the risks they’ve been taking to stop the investigations, it’s also clear they’re not yet ready for a war, but they are desperate. They’ve also surely been making haste in preparing their fleet.”
“We’ll also be using the Targ as a test ship for whatever weapons the scientists manage to dream up from QA 40’s data. When the first shots are fired I want your ship to be there ready and waiting.”
The captain nodded to her, the orange once again gone from his face, as he no doubt understood that he was still the captain of the Targ.
“I’d also appreciate your assistance in the interrogation of our prisoners. It’s not something we do a lot of in Security.” Which was odd. Daryl would have thought that it was one of the things they did most. Certainly more than anyone else. But he had to admit the captain was damn good at pulling facts out of thin air, and making people do what he wanted. No doubt it went with the job.
“First Officer Larg I have a much worse duty for you. But one I suspect you’ll be good at. I want the rest of these scientists whipped into some sort of shape. As your Captain has rightly said this damned feuding has got to stop, and I want each and every one of them to know in the next hour that they will do exactly what Doctor Chalmers asks of them, without hesitation. They won’t like it I suspect, but that’s life.”
First Officer Larg smiled like a banshee, although on him it looked more like a yawn. But Daryl was beginning to get quite good at reading that particular expression in Myrans. He realised that certain scientists might not be enjoying their next few months. He knew why too. First Officer Larg had been belittled and abused by Helos and Li both from the first day they’d arrived, as he was the captain’s delegate there to take care of the scientists’ needs. Even they wouldn’t dare give crap to the captain. That would be stupid. But his officers were not so fortunate. Now those same scientists might be getting a little of their own back.
“Right you three, back to work.” Ryal and Mark nodded as they turned to leave, and Daryl realised he was included in the group, even as they grabbed for his arms and started pulling him toward the door.
“Ohh and Daryl, one more thing” She was smiling again as she caught him before he made the door on his way to begin his new job below. A strange smile. And he realised a few shocked seconds later, for maybe the first time ever, she’d used his first name. In public. Almost like a friend. And he hadn’t even been blown up.
“Yes?”
“Please stop telling Scratch your private thoughts. It’s most embarrassing.” Her face grew somewhat red, while her two junior officers started quietly tittering behind them. It didn’t take a genius to work out what she was talking about.
“You bugged my cat?” He couldn’t believe it! That anyone would stoop to such levels. But that was only the beginning. His own face was slowly reddening, as he quickly tried to think of every embarrassing thing he’d confided in the cat and failed.
“Actually, the Kaiwhare did. Well, first anyway. We just bugged their bugs. Ohh, and then we sent Scratch in for advanced training on Unity. She’s now a fully trained feline operative.” She looked slightly hesitant as she added the last. Scratch was an agent? That didn’t seem possible, but at least it explained where she’d been hiding lately. Out no doubt, spying on the Kaiwhare.
“I promise you she wasn’t hurt in any way. In fact she’s a very happy little cat.” Which he knew. If Scratch had been in pain he was sure he would have noticed.
“Ahh good? I’m sorry?” He could feel his face heating up even more.
“Don’t be. It was quite… flattering. Just please don’t tell Scratch any more personal things. Or Tigger for that matter. Or in fact any of the cats.” Her face looked as red as his felt, but she didn’t seem too upset.
“Flattering?” All thoughts of his new mission were suddenly gone from his mind as he heard that word repeating again and again in his mind. Agreeable? As in she liked it? He must have had the most stupid smile of his own as he caught her eyes.
“Later.” And he was saved any further thought of staying and asking even more embarrassing questions as Ryal and Mark together grabbed him and began leading him back to the Sparrow.
On the way he heard the announcements from the bridge. First that he was now in charge of all research relating to the Calderonians, and that all scientific staff would now report directly to him or Mark or Ryal. That he figured should raise some eyebrows, or whatever. Second that there would be a ship wide briefing in half an hour, immediately followed by a meeting of all scientific staff in the meeting room. Could a translated voice smirk? Daryl wasn’t entirely sure, but he had a feeling this one did. First Officer Larg was definitely looking forward to his new role.
Chapter Fifteen.
“So you’re a doctor and an agent.” The Targ was once more on its way home and Daryl had finally had a chance to sit down and think. Or actually just to collapse in a heap. So apparently had Karen as she’d turned up out of nowhere and joined him on the couch in the small forward crew mess. Something she had never done before. Something however, that he hoped she might take up as a habit. She even brought him a second cup of coffee, and one for herself as well. Between it and her he was almost awake again.
They were the only two there as it was well after midnight ship time, and everyone who wasn’t on duty or trying to unravel the secrets of the Calderonians was surely asleep. Daryl wasn’t far off that himself. Actually he was well past it.
But half an hour earlier, tired beyond even the ability to sleep, he’d arrived at the small mess, poured himself a cup of really bad coffee - aliens would never learn to make a good cup of coffee - and found the couch. It had swiftly become one of his favourite haunts on the ship, as the mess was largely deserted most of the time, the couch deep and comfortable even for a human, and it had a replica port hole through which he could watch the fairy lights as the ship hit light speed and the stars turned to coloured computer enhanced smears.
After three days of exhausting work breaking into underground chambers and stealing everything that wasn’t molecularly bonded to the walls and a lot that was, he knew the worst part of his work was over. Now it was down to the programmers and linguists as they toiled night and day to make sense of what he and the others had found. And for once there was a lot.
As Karen had suggested, QA 40 was a fall back position. The first rendezvous point on the Calderonian’s retreat from known space. As such, they’d set it up with everything. All the information they had about the enemy. Where they were, how they operated, how they fought them and where they were heading. Everything they thought any other survivors of their war might need to survive and to follow them. It was an extensive database, and even the little that Daryl had managed to scan between jobs told him it had large amounts of information and technology they’d never dreamed of. New space ship and weapon designs were prominent among them. As was a complete holographic history of their war, and the complete genetic breakdown of all the plagues that had been used against them.
It was the first Calderonian city ever to be found with such extensive records intact, and naturally the scientists were having a field day. All of them. Even those who would normally consider themselves non-scientists had access to them, and were studying them to their own ends. The medical staff were playing with the genetic data while the technicians were already beginning to work on scale models of the various schematics. Tacticians were studying the combat history. Of course the language was a barrier. It would go so much faster when they had a complete translation instead of a few words, but even so
they were making good progress.
Much as he’d hated the very idea down to his toenails, Daryl had swiftly realised that the job of cracking the language and the databases was urgent, and it had to belong to the information scientists. Against his better judgement he’d placed Li and Dearth in charge, but under Ryal’s watchful guidance. The annoying little aliens had skills that Daryl could never hope to find anywhere else, and they needed their expertise. He had however, asked the captain to put them all under the direct control of a Force officer, just to make sure they didn’t start running off in tangents as they found stuff relating to the Ancients. And to stop the fights he was sure would be nearly continuous.
Bad news had become worse still for Daryl as he realised they also needed top class scientists to break down every technology they could steal from the Calderonians. Accordingly Helos and his team were also now free and, under Mark’s tender gaze, were busy analysing every new blueprint the others pulled from the site, already preparing working models of their own. Helos had finally been released from his cell, at Daryl’s express request. He hadn’t thanked him though. Nor had Stellarian Trin, who’d been effectively promoted to research designer. His labs were already being used to replicate scale models of whatever technology they found under his direction, and he’d suddenly found himself with a team of assistants. You could almost see the gloating in his eyes.
Yet if they weren’t grateful for what Daryl had given them, they were at least becoming a little respectful. Li mostly, had stopped calling him names, and occasionally the title of ‘Doctor’ even passed his lips when he addressed him. Daryl wasn’t fooled though. He knew it wasn’t true academic respect. It was just that they realised that if they wanted something, he just might be able to get it for them.
Oddly though, if perhaps they had gained even a trace of respect for him, Daryl had swiftly lost his own. In the three days that he and the others had been below, he had done things that no self-respecting archaeologist should ever do. Disturbing the site was the least of it. They had removed everything that they could, including the walls if they had useful information on them, and had thereby turned a priceless find into an empty cavern. Then they had moved on to every other underground room they could find, boring a network of tunnels under the city that in some cases would sooner or later cause parts of the city to collapse.
Desecration was the word for what he had done, and Daryl was shamed by it - even though he knew it was the only thing he could do, and had therefore continued destroying an entire city. By now they had not just the computer room but half of the city in the Targ’s holds. The entire chapel had been taken, at least intact, Daryl had insisted on that. The gravetic power generator was also on board, leaving the city without power. And there wasn’t a single machine left in any of the apartments. Whether they knew what it was or not, they had taken it all.
One day, he hoped, he might be permitted to return to the city, and start to return all that had been taken, to repair the damage that had been done. But even he knew that that day was a long way off, if ever. First they had to survive and win a major interstellar conflict. One that frightened him down to his toenails.
For now though, at least Daryl’s work was over. Or at least the stuff he could do well. And he’d delegated everything else to those who could do what needed to be done better. It was time for him to rest. But as he looked at Karen he realised that no matter how tired he was, he wasn’t alone. She looked shattered, and her work was not about to stop just because they’d left QA 40. It was probably only going to get worse. She surely needed the coffee even more than he did.
“Mmm. When I joined the Force as a teenager I simply wanted to be an officer. A captain one day. But the Force quickly decided I had the potential to be a Doctor, and put me into training. I served first as a medic, while I was still in training, and later became a fully fledged doctor. During that time, the Force Security arm decided I would be an excellent candidate for an agent, and they trained me as well. It was a busy few years.”
“I’ll bet.” In fact Daryl wouldn’t have believed it possible if she hadn’t told him. Earth Fleet doctors spent eight years just learning the basics, and then they complained endlessly about the long hours. Yet they had only one species to deal with, and limited amounts of medical knowledge to learn. What she was talking about was a hundred times worse. His respect for her went up even more. Not just beautiful, decent and bright, but incredibly hard working as well.
“It would have killed me.”
“Don’t tell fibs.” She snorted at him. She was the only woman he’d ever known who could snort and laugh at the same time, and somehow make it sound like something both feminine and attractive.
“You’re a doctor yourself in both archaeology and engineering. Two PhDs and both before you were twenty five. A child protégé and obsessive researcher. I checked up on you long before we ever picked you up.”
“Yes but mine are PhDs not medicine. And both were in subjects I loved. It wasn’t so much hard to get the qualifications as it was long. Long days doing nothing but research, and nights filled with reading and writing up. And I already had a massive advantage before I began. I’d been reading nothing but engineering and archaeology since I was a child. I wasn’t a protégé, just an enthusiast. I built my first antigrav motor when I was ten. And when other kids were watching sports, I was reading about the ruins on Arachni Prime, or Boulder Two. It was all I ever liked doing.”
“And now a whole new generation of kids are going to be reading about you.” He groaned, wishing she’d stop reminding him of his fame, and the more that might one day follow.
“Shush! Don’t say things like that. Let Helos and Li take the credit, or better yet Ryal and Mark. They at least deserve it.”
“No one deserves the credit more than you, and there’s not a man, woman or other being on this ship who doesn’t know it. A few perhaps who could never admit it. But they’d be lying to themselves. You seem to have this ability to take in dozens of conflicting pieces of information and weave them into a full blown theory that no one else can even see. And then afterwards, when you’ve finally destroyed my sleep for at least another week, it all seems so obvious everybody wonders why they didn’t think of it themselves. That’s the best definition of genius I know Doctor.”
“Huh! It’s a definition of someone with too much time on his hands, and too little connection to the real world. I’m reasonably bright, but not like that. I could never have even been accepted into first year medical school. I’m very limited in so many ways. I gave up on even other human languages early on. No ability you see. My knowledge of biology is rudimentary at best, and most of the other fields are worse. I can’t even tell you how poor my artistic abilities are, and even now at thirty six, I can’t spell to save my life.”
“And I can’t tell the difference between a relic and a rock.”
“It wouldn’t take you long to work it out. Me, I had difficulty learning to operate the med bay on the Sparrow, and it’s fully automated.” She laughed quietly. But did she realise it was true he wondered?
“I promise we’ll make the new one simpler for you Doctor.” New med bay? He’d suspected they were going to do some more tinkering with the ship, mainly so it could be returned to Earth Fleet at some stage, with pride and just a little advanced technology. A gift to him and the Earth. All they could give without officially giving the Earth any new technology, and without anyone realising that the Earth was off the hook for its supposed transgressions. But surely a whole new med bay was a pretty radical departure. Though he wouldn’t object.
“I hope so. I seem to need one. Regularly.” They both laughed some more.
“Don’t laugh and please don’t ever tell anyone in Earth Fleet or the Force, but quite frankly the hardest thing I ever had to learn was how to operate a space ship. How to fly one, navigate, or even just the basics of space law. It was a miracle I passed the pilot’s examinations.” It was actually a bitter memory fo
r him. He’d dreamed as a child of one day flying to the stars, probably like every other small child, and he’d always imagined that he’d be good at it. It had never occurred to him that piloting a spaceship was a complicated and highly skilled task, or that he’d have less natural talent then a Rigellian eel. He’d sweated more over those exams than he had over all the others put together.
“If the engine broke down I could probably rebuild it from the ground up. Same with nearly every other system on the ship. But if it goes off course, it takes me hours just to operate the nav computers as I have to reread basic astrogation. My flying skills are modest at best. Space law is Greek to me and I have no idea at all who gives way to who in a docking port.” It was only the truth. He was good at what he was good at, and everything else was irrelevant.
She snorted again, still amused. “Nevertheless, you have achieved more here in a few months than nearly two hundred other eminent scientists put together, and if and when we get home, and hopefully put the Kaiwhare in their place, I’m going to recommend you for the Interstellar Community’s highest prize in science. I won’t be alone either.” It was his turn to groan. More fame. He didn’t want it. It was never about the fame. It wasn’t about the wealth either. It was always about passion. He changed the subject.