by Tobias Roote
“Analysing. Please re-submit personal information : Voice analysis begin....”
Grady repeated the filed information.
“Name : Philus Grady
Birth Planet : Tetron-4
Age : Thirty seven.
Birth-date : Twentieth, fourth, five-two-forty-seven
Agent : Alliance of worlds
AWA Code : 4426ALPHA3459”
The AI confirmed. “Voice changes within acceptable parameters for described organ damage. MedicBot confirmation required to re-instate all protocols. Security lock down in thirty minutes. Please confirm.”
Grady sighed. “Yes, confirmed. Validation within thirty minutes or lock down will commence. Initiate passive security sweep. Advise if hostiles are approaching,” he added for good measure.
He was tired and sore. His eyes hurt. His body, shrivelled by the water, then heated by the sun was feeling the discomfort of radiation burn. The MedicBot procedure was necessary and it would probably also inject him with suppressants to help him operate until the symptoms wore off.
He found Shrilla slumped against the deck in the Medical Bay and checked her vital signs. She was okay, she appeared to have just slumped where she stood and was sleeping.
He initiated the diagnostics and waited while it went through its start-up routine, then went and sat in the corner where the diagnostic tests would be carried out. He called up the three-dimensional image of his lungs and examined the results. A string of microfibres extended throughout the inside of his lungs and meshed completely with the walls. His fitness report included a notice that his lung capacity had increased by thirty percent and his 02 conversion had improved by a margin of fifty percent. Outstanding !
“MedicBot, confirm relay of data to ship AI and advise ‘Captain fit for duty’.”
The MedicBot droned out its response. “Relay confirmed. Fitness confirmed.”
It chuntered ominously, then issued a further command.
“Standby to receive antihistamine and regulated painkillers for muscle strain and mild radiation burn. Recommend immediate increase in fluid, protein and carbohydrate intake. Traces of foreign proteins in stomach contents. No recommended treatment.”
END
Grady checked Shrilla’s medical report and she was also pronounced clear, but suffering shock and results of her recent hypothermia. Her body was shutting down to recuperate. There was nothing he could do for her except let her sleep. She would wake hungry and hateful, of that he had no doubt. He pulled her up and threw her over his shoulder for the short distance to the first cabin. He laid her in then kneeled to check she was comfortable then strapped her down in case he had to take evasive action.
She didn’t stir and he took the opportunity to look closely at her. She’d lost weight and he features looked drawn. However, he looked carefully at her fine features and a warm feeling grew inside him. He gently stroked her face and her hand came up and held his briefly in reaction to his touch, but she didn’t wake and he left her to return to the Citrix’s cockpit.
The CNR ‘Persipis’ is boarded
The two-man squad pushed past the ship’s guards the moment the air-lock opened causing an immediate outcry.
Leaving the protesters behind them they made their way quickly to the bridge. People stepped aside as the black uniforms and mean-looking demeanour of the visitors brushed all objections aside. The Persipis was an exploration and survey vessel so there was only a small contingent of marines aboard. They hadn’t been warned of the visitors impending arrival and the guard on duty attempted to defend the bridge hatchway from what he thought were intruders.
The leading Angel didn’t bother with any explanation. His laser pistol drilled a hole straight into the man’s questioning mouth and out through the back of his head. A blackened scorch mark appeared on the wall before the agent terminated the beam, while the guard slid lifeless to the floor. They stepped over the body and onto the bridge. The officers on the deck were half out of their seats when they were waved back into them by both the agents waving guns in their direction. The body on the floor had drawn everyone’s attention to the immediate danger of disputing their right to be there.
“Captain Pritchart ?” the first Angel barked, not seeing him on the Bridge and calling for his whereabouts.
The officer that had evidently been in the command chair glanced automatically at the door to the bridge ready-room to see if the captain was coming out. The agent recognised the amateur reaction. He leapt across the remaining distance and kicked open the door, which was only a flimsy barrier, and stood astride the doorway half in and half out, a pistol in each hand. He seemed quite capable of using both simultaneously.
The captain was caught with his hand in the safe, about to pull something out. He looked guiltily at the agent and went to withdraw something from inside when the laser beam caught him through the temple. His eyes exploded from his head as the excessive heat drove through his skull and out the other side. As he dropped to the floor his hand released the discs he was holding and they fell onto the deck around his body.
The agent had been instructed to collect everything from the safe. His job had just been made a whole lot easier by not having to force the captain to open it first. He nodded to the other Angel, who changed his position to cover the whole of the bridge area, then stepped inside to retrieve the evidence, checking carefully to be sure he had all the loose items spread out on the deck. A fortuitous bit of timing, the man decided as he kicked Pritchart’s arm away to retrieve the last disc.
He looked up to see his companion straddling the doorway facing outward and leaning in to talk to him.
“It’s time to go. Word is in that the original target has survived and we need to be gone before we are discovered.”
“Holy Grell ! How did they survive that ? and why are we suddenly on the same side as our target ?” He muttered sourly as he stood and pocketed the last of the discs.
“Okay, the last objective shouldn’t take us long,” he sighed as he pushed past his companion who was in the process of stepping out of the way. Good teamwork meant they were used to each other’s moves. They both heard the scuffling outside the bridge that indicated the probable arrival of the remaining marines.
“Which of you is Wendrill ?” the leader barked to the remaining bridge crew.
A young junior officer raised his hand tentatively, “Th..th..that’s me,” he responded nervously.
“Get up ! You're coming with us. You have information our leader wants to torture you for. I warn you though, don’t give in to him easily or he will make it all the more painful - he enjoys his hobby and likes to make it last,” the Angel laughed nastily. He pushed the young officer ahead of him as a shield against the marines waiting in the corridor.
At the door the Angel stopped and grabbed four of the bridge crew.
“You four, go in front and then the other three can go behind,” he pulled the others in behind them.
“HEY ! YOU OUT THERE !” he shouted. “HOLD YOUR FIRE !”
“WE ARE COMING OUT WITH HOSTAGES - IF YOU SHOOT - YOU WILL KILL THEM - THEN, WE'LL HAVE TO KILL YOU.” He laughed.
“Move !” He pushed the front crew members ; none of them were military and represented zero threat to the agents. He knew people and detected only one of them had the potential to do anything. He kept that one close with his laser punched into his armpit.
As they left the bridge, he could see three young marines with guns trained on the group. Three, from a complement of four, he deduced. That meant there were none ahead of him, he hoped. He weighed the odds. No, they wouldn’t have any other crew waiting, he was sure. He nodded to his colleague who pulled the three other bridge crew out with him, completing the entourage.
They made quick time to the air-lock. As expected the area was completely clear, with no further security in evidence. As they gathered with their backs to the hatch it opened behind them providing additional cover
from their own crew, all of whom were armed to the teeth and trained like themselves, to kill without compunction.
The officer that he was monitoring tensed, but at a small nudge from the gun barrel, he relaxed again. Not going to be a hero today then the angel thought to himself only partially relieved. The marines had followed them all the way with guns trained on them. A small diversion even from the officer he was holding, might tip the balance or force a bloodbath. They didn’t need that. ‘Quick, clean and controlled’ was the way they liked to operate. It kept the clients happy if there were minimal casualties.
“Wendrill, get in there NOW !” he ordered the young officer, who despite the threatening behaviour of his captors, seemed calm and reserved, almost relieved.
“The rest of you spread out around the exit port and don’t move or you will end up getting killed by both sides.”
As the lock closed, the marines stepped forward, fanning out and making sure their crew were accounted for with the exception of Wendrill. All were present.
Inside the lock, the Angel crew stood down and the agents pushed Wendrill forward to the smaller bridge and into the spotlight of the small bridge crew.
“Wendrill, you are a wanted man with a price on your head. Luckily, you are needed alive so please don’t do anything stupid and we’ll have you back home to your Mam as soon as possible,” Olgar told him. Actually it wasn’t true. Dalt had informed him of the blackmail material and the AWA secret agent onboard the Persipis and that had decided them to remove all trace of their involvement. With luck the AWA would collect all the public flak on this operation and the Angels could collect their remaining fee before news of the agents’ survival got out.
“Detach us from the Persipis and make for deep space with all speed. Keep the Core vessel between us and the planet for as long as possible. I want minimal trace of our departure.”
“Aye, sir, but there isn’t anyone reading our transponder, so why the precautions ?”
“Because there are some clever bastards out there who do what we do and they CAN track our location. Let’s not give them the chance,” he scowled balefully at the questioner and noted it was the same one who queried his actions earlier. He would have to watch that one, he decided.
Olgar wasn’t about to explain his relationship with Dalt and the DIA, or their new sudden reversal of the contract and the protection of the AWA’s most senior agent, Philus Grady. Dalt had also requested the rescue of the AWA’s spy from the Persipis and he was obliged to do his brother’s bidding in all things. He didn’t have to like it though, a fact which made him mean-tempered and more than ready to kill something. He cast a speculative eye at the argumentative crew member who had suddenly found important things to do at his console.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Citrix Escapes Archon-5
Grady had been monitoring the sensors and comms for the past hour. He’d received a ‘status’ enquiry from a DIA support vessel somewhere in the vicinity. He’d replied ‘active’ so they knew he was alive and still operational. Had he sent an ‘inactive’ reply they would have found and extracted him. If Shrilla knew they were being shadowed by the very agency she feared it would not go well. At this juncture Grady decided he was still fit for duty and he was still in command of his own ship whatever Shrilla wanted or thought of him. He briefly wondered if her override codes had the ability to take charge of Citrix and decided he wouldn’t give her the opportunity.
His body recorder had downloaded all data to the AI which was in the process of compressing and encrypting the results. He had added a final voice-authenticated message -‘Planet is Seeded’ to the report. He hoped it would be enough. All he had to do was reach one of the DIA interplanetary buoys and transmit the file. The nearest one was over a day’s flight away. Afterwards he would remove all references to it in the AI’s database in case of any interrogation.
He would file his usual AWA report when he reached AW Command, but by then the Dispersalistas would have already swung into action to provide a protective umbrella over Archon-5. He felt a little bad about Kildark and Shrilla, but his calling was higher and required some hard choices.
He checked the sensor readouts for any sign of possible aggressors.
The monitoring showed only the CNR Persipis hanging in space. Grady wondered at the fact there were no reinforcements from the Core and more suspiciously, no sign of the ship that attacked them. He guessed his ‘shadow’ had left the system as soon as he responded to their status enquiry. Grady had a hunch that he was not out of the woods yet. If the Persipis knew what he knew, and were also now aware that the AWA was involved, they had two choices - walk away, or fight. Something told him that the resources on this planet were important to ENCIO and that meant they would bring in reinforcements to subdue the planet and remove all trace of its indigents. How much time did he have ? Not a lot, he decided.
“Ario, store shielding. Prepare for lift-off. Plot course for the Pellagio sector.”
Grady walked back to the medical room and opened a cupboard that contained various pills and vials of fluids. He selected an injection of stimulant and pressed it to his arm. The pulse spray that infused his muscle tissue caused the area to warm up, almost a hot sting. He rubbed the area helping to disperse it into his system and by the time he’d returned the cabinet to its flight-state he was beginning to feel more alert.
As he walked back into the cockpit the sunlight gleamed in through the window, now unrestricted with the shielding stored away. The engines were beginning to thrum as Ario checked them, before it brought them up to operating temperature.
“Course plotted, engines at optimal. Proceed ?” Ario asked.
“Yes, proceed. Monitor all channels, maintain full defence alert status until beyond terrestrial range,” Grady ordered.
He pulled up their trajectory path and tweaked it until it was ten percent above normal safety levels. He didn’t want to hang around in case they were ready to send up attack missiles from the ground. Pressing the ‘confirm’ button Ario mutely accepted the modified commands and the ship lurched into the air, turning into its escape trajectory even as it lifted above the tree-line.
As the nose came up and the roar of the engines pushed him back into his seat, Grady belatedly remembered Shrilla and hoped the straps held as the ship made a fast exodus through the thick atmosphere of Archon-5.
“Intercepting signals between Persipis and the ground base on Archon-5,” Ario announced.
“Put it up on the speaker, Ario.”
“...Base ops, be advised we have an emergency situation here that requires your immediate evacuation. Proceed to immediately lock down base and return to Mother. This order includes all security personnel as well as lab teams. You have two hours to get your asses aboard, then we’re leaving with, or without you,” the voice ordered.
“Base to Persipis, we will comply, but there will be hell from those scientists, they just caught another two mutants,” the gravel voice of the base operator replied.
“Shoot ‘em, or let them go, this is an IMVAC, immediate evacuation, just do a lock down and leave and don’t be nice about it. If those ‘lab-rats’ don’t cooperate security are permitted to use persuaders,” the ship’s voice clarified.
Persuaders were volt-sticks, banned in the Alliance, but still used by the corporations despite a cross-empire agreement to outlaw their use. They were prone to cause after-shocks that could stop hearts or impair cognitive behaviour.
“Must be serious, control. Stand-by we will have ETD shortly,” the base voice sounded panicky. The operator must have realised that the timing might be an issue. “Control, be advised that we can achieve lift-off in thirty minutes. It’s one hour and forty minutes flying time to rendezvous point,” he added nervously after obviously checking with someone off-line.
“Two hours, you hear me ? TWO HOURS ! You’re wasting time. Get that shuttle in the air.”
Ario closed off the speakers and remained mute
while Grady thought about the conversation he’d just overheard.
“Something has happened on Persipis, that’s clear. The vessel has been orbiting the planet for months - why do they need to leave in such a darned hurry ?” Grady spoke absently, but the AI would pick up that it wasn’t a question requiring an answer.
“I detect activity on the surface of the ship. It is dismantling research sensors. Preparation ‘is’ under way to leave the system,” Ario responded.
“Continue course and monitor system-wide activity,” Grady told the AI.
As the Citrix made its way past the Persipis keeping a good distance from the research ship, they continued to monitor the frantic activity around the vessel as all of the survey equipment was towed into the holds and stowed.
“I think something has put the wind up their sails good and proper,” Grady said, thinking out loud more than talking to the AI again. This time it decided to respond.
“It might have to do with those ships that have arrived in-system in the last few seconds.” Grady peered at the instruments intensely for a few seconds.
“Ario, what are you registering on the sensors. I’m picking up at least four groupings. What can you tell me ?” Grady requested from the ship AI.
“There are, as you say, four groups. They register as Core navy ships and are equally placed between us and our objective. Even with our transponder nullifier we would be hard-pressed to get past their blockade undiscovered. They will have other sensors that will pick us up as soon as we get within range.”
The range, as far as Grady could tell, was going to be reached within the next half an hour.
“Holy Grell ! We need to get to the comms buoy. If we’re intercepted between here and AW Command, they will have beaten us,” Grady muttered to himself pessimistically.
“WARNING ! I am detecting two ships coming up behind us. They are not providing transponder signals on the normal frequencies,” Ario informed him.