Exile's Return

by Rebecca Mickley

  The corridor ended and I checked my map on my data pad. I was still about ten decks too high, but the ladder was just ahead. Sliding down it, I saw the first confirmations I had navigated right. Up ahead was a door that read:

  -Authorized Personnel Only-

  -Command Level Authentication Required-

  Feeling a shiver go through my spine and down my limbs, making me suddenly feel weak, I glanced down at my access card. This was make or break. Unlike my conversation with the young, fresh-faced Lieutenant, there would be no excuse to justify my presence down here. If I was caught, if something went wrong, there would be no more investigation, no answers.

  Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I took out my tools and connected them to the wires just below the data pad, hoping the eggheads back on Earth were right about all this. It uploaded my algorithm into the system, and a series of numbers began to flash across my screen. Suddenly the numbers stopped, and in violent red letters that almost made my heart stop it read:

  ACCESS GRANTED

  “Well, we made it this far,” I said, to no one in particular. Up ahead was the data core and the EDRS, or emergency data collection system.

  // !!@#$%%$## //

  // DATA CORRUPTED //

  Chapter 18

  // RESUMING FROM PRIMARY LOG //

  // S. DAWKINS //

  I woke up stiff, but happy. After the previous evening’s run I had spent close to an hour in the shower and then the fur dryer. I shifted contentedly with my sheet over me, the warmth and smell of my bed and the easy contentment I experienced within it making me loathe even the thought of movement. I twitched a hind paw and pawed at the pillows, stretching my body, giving a displeased grunt. I didn't want to wake up.

  My eyes were still closed. I was not surrendering to full consciousness without a fight, and muttered out:

  “Good morning Charlie.”

  At first there was no answer. I opened my eyes and sat up in the bed, looking around, seeing Bradley sitting in the chair across the room, casually reading his tablet.

  “He isn't here; he left a few hours ago,” Bradley replied quickly, then smiled. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.” I mumbled grumpily. It was the first time since the attack I had woken up and Charlie had not been there. What was going on?

  I tried to put it out of my mind, but creeping worry was still there. I ordered breakfast for Bradley. He astonished me with the size of his appetite, and I think he shocked the steward too, as he set down enough food in front of him to feed a man twice his size. He ate in silence, devouring his food with such relish that I worried about the survival of the mess plate as I nibbled on the alfalfa grass and apples I was eating. Suddenly I heard the code being tapped into my keypad outside. Charlie barged in with a vicious but happy smile on his face.

  He was breathless and smelled of work and anger. My ears instinctively perked as I spoke.

  "What’s up Charlie? What’s wrong?" My ears swiveled toward him. Something was definitely going on.

  He looked at me curiously, still with that vicious smile on his face. My eyes met him and a quiet but demanding feeling flashed through my mind: “predator”. I backed up instinctively, but remembered to keep myself under control.

  "I think I found them Snow, I think I found the bastards," he said, relishing his words.

  My ears went down nervously and I felt a tightness in my throat. How had he been able to find them when ship’s security hadn't? What did he stumble upon?

  “The Admiral and the Captain of the Roam are waiting in the briefing room. I'm to take you there.”

  I quickly hopped forward and made my way for the door with Bradley following closely behind.

  I skittered after Charlie down the corridor. I hadn't seen him like this; he was almost in a run. Quickly I dodged around boots that were not used to a snowshoe hare being on board, doing my best to not be stepped on. Ears up, dodging left and right, I didn’t see him stop suddenly in front of a nondescript door, and I bumped into him.

  "Easy, Killer," he said merrily. "Get your breath and smooth down your fur. They’re waiting just inside."

  I did exactly that, not because I necessarily needed a grooming but because it relaxed me some and right now I had butterflies dancing atop my recently devoured breakfast. Taking a deep breath I gave a nod and we entered.

  Charlie and Bradley both saluted the Admiral first then the Captain. Being an ambassador I ignored my military rank and gave a slight bow. The Captain and Admiral returned it and I scrambled up into one of the chairs, sitting crouched down on my hind paws.

  "Thank you for coming Snow. How are you feeling?" the Admiral asked, his face bright and cheery despite the seriousness of the meeting.

  "I am doing much better, sir. Still a little sore here and there, but I've about recovered."

  "Good to hear! I trust Commander Stevens hasn’t been giving you too much trouble?"

  "No sir, in fact he’s been a great help. He and Bradley both. Between the two of them I may just pull this off.”

  The Admiral laughed and gave a slight nod to them while the ship’s Captain sat in silence.

  "Admiral, forgive me, but Charlie told me you may have found out who did that to me."

  "Yes, yes, he did. You see, while you have been convalescing, Charlie has been hunting down your attackers, mainly through our computer systems. As you are no doubt aware we have clearance-controlled access to sensitive parts of the ship. Now, that means that whoever got the night sticks out should have left two log entries. One on the door, and one on the storage locker. Those files aren’t supposed to be deletable, but somehow they were. I don’t understand it myself, but it’s supposed to be near fool proof. The only problem is, we couldn't find any traces of who did it."

  "So, how then, did you figure out who did this?” I asked, looking between the Admiral and Charlie, who still looked like the cat who swallowed the canary. “If the files are suddenly gone, then how is there any trace of my attacker?”

  "Well, that’s the question we asked as well. Those records are a safeguard against theft and espionage. We had to find the log or tell our friends at the think tank that their new system was complete garbage. Bradley you were trained specifically on the Roam’s systems and its cryptographic communications, why don’t you explain this part. I'm afraid it’s beyond me."

  "Thank you. Well, with this kind of file system, and this kind of safeguard, if it’s deleted there is always the ship’s black box. It's designed to overwrite itself every fifteen days. In the event the ship is destroyed or found abandoned, UEA Command can pull the system and get a snapshot of the last two weeks on the ship." Bradley looked down nervously, turning red at having to speak in front of people.

  "Ah, I see. So how do you access the black box?" I asked, chasing the mystery.

  "In short you don’t,” he explained. “We had to get special access orders and pull instructions from Central Command. It wasn't easy, and doing it outside of the ship’s command structure was even harder. That’s where Charlie and Admiral Dickens came in. They had the contacts Earthside to help us get the clearance.”

  I saw the Captain’s knuckles go white as he gripped his arm rests. "You should have informed me of this. I have every right to know what’s going on in my ship."

  "Well sir, with all due respect, we couldn't. This was a hit on an ambassador that clearly had command involvement. No one could be above suspicion,” Charlie replied matter-of-factly.

  "So, you were able to access the black box then?" I asked. I took a deep breath, the tension in the room was palpable, as a screen to my right flickered to life.

  "Barely. We accessed the log this morning, it’s day fourteen since the attack. It frankly took this long to make sure our ducks were in a row and we could get access. This is the log here,” Charlie said, as it glowed into life on the screen. He scrolled down through pages and pages of esoteric numbers until finally, in the middle of the log, was the information we sought. I hea
rd the Captain of the Roam shift in his seat uncomfortably, before his eyes went wide as the computer translated the access codes, staring in disbelief at the code signature on both. Undaunted, Charlie summarized.

  "According to this, the stick locker was accessed at 0252 on the night of her beating for the purpose of quelling a riot, on deck six, section A5, the location of her quarters. This use was authorized by the Chief of Security, Major Newman."

  The Captain started out of his seat. "Are you sure of this Commander Stevens? You had better be. I have served with that man for fifteen years! You do not just accuse my head of security on his own ship!" His face was a strange mix of emotions ranging from shock to anger, and he visibly seethed as he struggled to maintain composure.

  "Sir I am afraid there can be no doubt. It’s not possible to counterfeit a genetic signature, and those were recorded, as is protocol. It has to be him, sir. He had to at least know of the attacks," Bradley stated nervously.

  “No one asked you Ensign!” I saw Bradley flinch as the Captain swore under his breath. Then calmly, regaining his composure, he tapped his communicator and summoned the Major and a security detail to the briefing room.

  As Newman entered the Captain ordered the two officers to place him under guard. They took their place at the entrance to the briefing room and waited for their orders.

  “What is the meaning of this!?” Major Newman looked to his men, shocked and angry. “I demand an explanation!”

  Charlie spoke first, the look in his eyes a blend of anger and relief. "We found your log entries Major. Clever to delete them like you did, but we do have the black box," he taunted.

  "You can’t pull the black..." He stopped himself, obviously caught off-guard. "I have no idea what you’re talking about. It has to be fake," he corrected himself, looking suddenly exhausted and worn.

  "We have your genetic algorithm on the file, buddy,” Charlie retorted, looking very in control of the situation despite being the second-most junior officer in the room. “That can't be faked. It's right there in black and white, so now you have a choice. You can keep quiet, and we’ll send you up the river. After all, attempted murder of a diplomat is a very serious crime. Or we can testify at your court martial that you cooperated and maybe, just maybe, we can work something out."

  The Major looked grave, as if he was carefully considering his options. He knew, he had to know, that no matter what happened now, his career was over. Not because of the attack on me, I thought cynically, but because of my rank and my importance. Violence against morphics was surprisingly common, even tolerated in some quarters, but this could not be allowed to stand. This time there had to be justice.

  He looked at me, his eyes full of hate. I could almost feel the heat of his gaze, his hands shaking. I could smell it, rising off of him like a cancer. He growled as he spoke.

  “I have nothing to say.” I saw him loosen the sleeves on his shirt as he took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “I have served in the UEA for over fifteen years, and your allegations are simply that, allegations. You forget that I am an investigator. I know how interrogations work, Commander. You think you got me dead to rights? Fine, show me your proof.”

  Undaunted, Charlie punched a keypad and the orders came on screen to access the black box of the ship, as well as the findings. I saw Newman go white as he saw the proof he had demanded laid bare before him, next to the order that made his doom possible.

  “Oh, clever. That was very clever. You realize, I don’t have any other choice now,” he said, as an icy chill spread over the room.

  Charlie began to move toward him but the Major shot up and moved back into a corner, almost tripping over Bradley. In his hand was a tiny silver device. A detonator.

  He looked over at the security detail. “Gentlemen, leave. Now.”

  The security detail looked at the Captain who nodded, and they left.

  “Now, Major, we have served together a long time. Put the detonator down, do you really want to kill all of us? Is it really worth all that?” the Captain of the Roam asked, with real fear on his face.

  “You know that it is! Now back off! Don't try to talk me out of this, Bob. We go back too far!” He was panting and sweating profusely, a trapped and dangerous animal. “Now! No one has to die but me and that fucking morphic. Leave!” he screamed out.

  Charlie spoke up, his tone having moved from accusatory to calm and reasonable. “Come on, you know we can't do that, but right now you have all the power. Let's just talk about it. Surely we can work this out.”

  "The bitch wasn't supposed to live in the first place! They were supposed to keep going till there was paste, not till she stopped moving."

  "Major, that would have only made it worse on you. Regardless we would have found you, but nothing says it has to end badly. Just put down the detonator," Charlie repeated.

  "It was supposed to be clean, cover the tracks, I hid the surveillance vids too, but you haven’t found them yet, I see. A pity, it was such a beautiful thing to watch her bones crack.” He was ranting, and delusional, flecks of foam flying from his mouth. “It's people like you that make us weak! You pollute our race and leave us vulnerable to our enemies! At least your death would have some meaning!” He turned his gaze away from Charlie to glare at me. “They brought this abomination on us! You bitch! You stupid little whore, I am going to be the one who kills you!” I saw his thumb start to move for the detonator, and out of nowhere Bradley dove on top of him, wrenching at his hand, striking him hard in the face and staggering him.

  Charlie jumped over the table and all three wrestled. Scrambling for control of the detonator, they bumped up against a door leading to a small room. Charlie slapped the pad and the door opened as Bradley and the Major tumbled free.

  The next moments moved slowly. I saw Newman begin to lower his thumb on the evil device, and Charlie had a strange, sad look on his face. I suddenly understood what that meant and screamed for Bradley to get the hell out of there as the door came down, just as the detonator went off. The reinforced walls of the Roam warped and distorted as Charlie slammed into me, shielding my body from the debris as the walls collapsed.

  I forced my way out from under Charlie and dashed toward the hole where the wall had been. “Charlie! Bradley, he was in there! We have to get him out. He needs our help!”

  “Snow, snap out of it! I'm sorry but he’s gone,” Charlie said, sounding desperate and guilty. “There was nothing else I could have done.”

  “No, it’s not supposed to be that way!” I cried, hysterical. “He has to be here somewhere. Charlie, come on, help me!”

  He grabbed me and held on, restraining me. “I'm sorry Snow, you have to focus. He’s gone, Snow. Snap out of it! I'm sorry!”

  I looked down and saw my paws tinged red with blood, not all of it mine, and the horror slammed through me anew. I felt my stomach twist, and I wretched. Grief suddenly consumed me.

  “No, no, no! It can’t be real, he can't be gone.” I turned and snarled at Charlie. “You son of a bitch! Why!? Why did you have to do that? Not him, not both of them! God dammit!” I fell to the ground numb with the shock of what I had just seen. Dully I felt Charlie try to hold me again, but I struggled against him.

  “I know, Snow. I know. God forgive me, there was nothing else I could do. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.” Charlie’s voice trembled in agony over the choice he had just made.

  I began to become aware of emergency personnel around me. Someone draped a blanket over my back, but I just sat there cold and shaking, trying to cope with the shock, grief and anger.

  “He would have made a good mouse, Charlie, but he was also a great friend. He deserved better. He deserved a chance at what I have,” I said, mournful and aching over the loss of my friend.

  “He died a hero, Snow,” another voice reminded me. “If he hadn't stopped Newman at that moment, none of us would be here right now. He didn't just save you, he saved four lives today at the cost of his own.” I looked
up at the Admiral.

  “I... I just want to go home.” I collapsed into a heap, too weary to care anymore.

  The Admiral turned and looked at the Roam's Captain. “Sir, this happened under your watch, with your man. You are relieved of duty under United Earth Force Justice Code 965-3 Alpha, until an inquiry acquits you of any wrongdoing. Security! Take him under guard to his quarters. As of right now, I am in command.”

  Two security officers who had responded to the scene simply nodded and escorted the Captain out. He sneered at the Admiral as he passed and said, “This isn’t over, McHenry. You aren't the only one with friends.”

  “Get him out of here!” was all the Admiral said.

  Chapter 19

  We reconvened in the Admiral's quarters the next morning. The Admiral looked grave, his eyes darkened with concern. As we took our seats he spoke.

  "This has me very worried. Originally we thought your beating was just anti-morphic sentiment fanned into rage by your impromptu tour of the ship, or your sudden appearance on the news, but now we know something greater is going on." The Admiral shifted in his seat then continued. “Commander Stevens, I am afraid our worst fears are being confirmed. You are not to leave her side for the remainder of this mission.” Charlie just nodded.

  The Admiral turned to me. "Snow, I know you haven't liked this situation from the beginning, but now I am afraid we brought you into a hornet’s nest, little lady. The late Major had connections back to Central Command. This reeks of a wider conspiracy, and I don't know if this ship is a safe place for you, even with Charlie, now."

  "I can understand your concern," Charlie said. "But before we start getting hasty, I'd like to take her and check his quarters. It's still early; chances are they haven’t been touched."

  "Under normal circumstances I'd object, but we have to find information, and the more time we waste here, the more we run the risk of losing everything." The Admiral seemed to have aged twenty years from the first time I had seen him, and he was not a young man then. "Regardless of what we find, we’re putting you off ship tomorrow, but we are going to have to make it till then," the Admiral nodded wearily.