Sakira

by Robert blanton

“So, a boat lawyer is what you have.”

  “She’s more than a boat lawyer. She handled the deal on the Mea Huli as a favor to our DEA friend. She’s a senior partner in a firm that concentrates on international law and trade agreements.”

  “So, you hired her firm?”

  “No, she’s taking a leave of absence,” Marc said. “I offered her twenty million dollars and the job as our legal counsel if she makes this work.”

  “She should be motivated.”

  “Yep, and if you remember, she was beyond tenacious. Dale, our DEA friend, his wife, works as her paralegal. She says Samantha scares the crap out of the other side when she’s negotiating treaties.”

  “That’s what we need here,” Blake said.

  “Hey, I’m going to be gone for a while. I need you to find us a hospital ship to use while we build a new clinic. Figure a twenty-million-dollar budget.”

  “You want me to find what? Where are you going?”

  “Can’t tell you yet,” Marc said. “Don’t worry, Samantha will be here next week; she’ll help you.”

  “You know I’m the sail and fly around the world kind of guy, not really a businessman,” Blake said.

  “Then it’ll be a good growth opportunity for you,” Marc quipped. “And I need you to watch Catie for me.”

  “No!” Blake howled. “You can’t saddle me with a child. I’m finally getting some action. The women here think scars are cool, the sign of a warrior. I’m finally sexy again.”

  “Liz will help you,” Marc said. “Catie just needs to know her Uncle Blake has her back.”

  “You are asking a lot,” Blake said.

  “You can handle it.”

  Chapter 15

  For The Ones I love

  “Why can’t I come with you?” Catie asked.

  “Because I will be in meetings, and I can’t afford to leave you unprotected. We need Liz and Kal here to start up our security service.”

  “But…”

  “But nothing. It will only be a few weeks,” Marc said. “Just behave yourself and focus on your studies.”

  “Okay,” Catie said. “But call me.”

  “I will.”

  Marc boarded their jet, greeting Fatima at the hatch. This would be her and Walter’s last trip. Fred had located two replacements and would be picking them up in Hawaii.

  “Welcome aboard, Marc,” Fatima said.

  “Hello,” Fred said from the cockpit. “Six hours to Oahu. I hope you brought something to entertain yourself.”

  “I have.”

  Once in the air, Marc took advantage of the privacy being the only passenger on the flight afforded him. He needed to have a serious discussion with ADI.

  “ADI, please restrict all information about my location and movements as well as access to the queries I will be making.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “I want to discuss the situation with the medical officer. Explain under what circumstances she can be brought out of stasis early.”

  “The medical officer may be brought out of stasis if the medical quarantine is declared over,” ADI said.

  “How would it be defined as over?”

  “A qualified medical officer would have to decide the emergency was under control.”

  “Define qualified medical officer.”

  “Any senior medical officer of the Paraxean fleet would qualify.”

  “How does one become a senior medical officer of the Paraxean fleet?”

  “The doctor would have to serve aboard a Paraxean ship under a senior medical officer for five years,” ADI replied.

  “Okay, what other circumstances would allow you to bring the medical officer out of stasis?”

  “A medical emergency,” ADI said.

  “Define a medical emergency.”

  “Any medical threat to a member of the crew that could not be handled by the normal medical bots.”

  “What are the medical bots?”

  “They are small, you would call them robots, that have an AI and are capable of handling small medical issues.”

  “What types of medical issues are they not qualified to handle?”

  “Serious life-threatening issues, medical conditions like a stroke which might result in permanent impairment, serious infections from unknown sources.”

  “What would be a life-threatening issue? Ignore infections, list injuries that would require the doctor.”

  “Brain trauma, a heart attack, a spinal fracture, kidney, and liver disease, although they would likely be handled by the medical bot. Wounds to the heart, lungs, liver, intestines.”

  “You are aware of our weapons and the damage they can do.”

  “Yes, Captain, I have observed the use of weapons by your team.”

  “Specifically, a 9mm Beretta.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Would a gunshot from that weapon into the leg qualify as such an emergency?”

  “No, Captain, the medical bots would be able to handle such a simple wound.”

  “A gunshot to the shoulder?”

  “No, Captain, the medical bots would be able to handle that as well.”

  “What if it impacted the joint?”

  “They would, with an eighty percent certainty, be able to handle such a wound.”

  “A gunshot into the gut?”

  “Captain, please define gut.”

  “A bullet right below the navel.”

  “There is a ninety percent probability that the medical bots would not be able to handle such a wound. There are too many complications that they would not be able to handle.”

  “If a crewmember were to sustain such a wound, what would happen?” Marc asked.

  “The medical bots would be called to assess the wound and stabilize the victim. The doctor’s stasis pod would start to bring her out of stasis. If the bots determined that the wound required the doctor, they would move the victim to the medical bay if possible. There the patient would be put into stasis until the doctor fully woke from her stasis pod.”

  “How long would that take?”

  “It would take approximately four hours,” ADI said. “The time varies based on the individual.”

  “Once the patient was taken care of, what happens to the doctor.”

  “Normal procedure would be for the doctor to reenter stasis.”

  “Can that procedure be overridden?”

  “Yes. In the current emergency, the doctor can declare the medical quarantine is over. That would start the process to release all the crew from stasis.”

  “What else?”

  “The captain can rule that the medical officer is vital and cannot return to stasis.”

  “Am I authorized to make that ruling?”

  “Yes. You are the captain.”

  “Thank you, ADI.”

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  It was late at night when Marc took the wave runner out to sea from the marina at Grand Hyatt Kauai Resort and Spa. He had purchased it the day before and had it delivered to the hotel’s small marina. In only a few minutes, he was out of sight of anyone on land.

  “ADI, have the LX9 surface one hundred meters in front of me. Once it has surfaced, have it open its cargo bay.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Marc could barely make out the LX9 as it surfaced and opened the cargo bay. Only the light of the cargo bay gave him any indication that it truly was there and not just a shadow from the moon and clouds. He drove the wave runner up into the cargo bay and shut it down.

  “Ship, close the cargo bay and submerge twenty meters.”

  Marc made his way to the cockpit of the ship. “ADI, have the LX9 return to the Sakira.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  It only took two hours until the LX9 entered the flight bay of the Sakira. Marc had to wait an additional twenty minutes while the water was purged from the bay. Then he exited the LX9.

  “ADI, show me how to get to the bridge.”

  “Follow the guide on you
r HUD,” ADI said. “It will show a green line along the path you should walk.”

  “Thank you, ADI.” Marc made his way to the bridge. The path included some kind of elevator that took him sideways as well as up. When he exited it, he was clearly on the bridge. There was a huge display and two pilot chairs in the forward section. The center of the room held a large chair with a smaller chair next to it. There were several consoles around the side of the room with chairs for the crewmembers. It reminded Marc of the bridge of the Stennis when Blake had given him a tour.

  “ADI, please guide me to the medical bay.”

  Marc followed the green line to the medical bay. It was just a few floors below the bridge, and the elevator took him most of the way.

  The medical bay looked much like a hospital emergency room. There were small alcoves with treatment beds on them, a laboratory off to one side. Some exotic-looking equipment was spread around the exterior, mounted to the ceiling.

  “ADI, I forgot that I had my Beretta on me,” Marc said as he pulled the weapon from the holster on his back. “I probably should have secured the weapon when I came on board.”

  “The captain is entitled to carry a sidearm,” ADI said. “The preferred weapon on board the ship is a laser pistol, but your weapon will not be too dangerous.”

  “Thank you, I should make sure the safety is on,” Marc said. He held the weapon pointing sideways and looked at the safety. His finger was on the trigger, and it twitched. The gun fired, shooting a bullet at a 10-degree angle to the side of his navel. “Oops.”

  “Medical emergency! Medical emergency in the Medical Bay!” blared over the ship’s speakers.

  Thanks for reading BOOK!

  I hope you’ve enjoyed the XX book in the Delphi in Space series. The story continues in BOOK n If you would like to join my newsletter group, click here. The newsletter provides interesting Science facts for SciFi fans, book recommendation based on book I truly loved reading, and notification of when the next book in my series is available.

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  Also by Bob Blanton

  Delphi in Space

  Sakira

  Delphi City

  Delphi Station

  Delphi Nation -- coming soon

  Matthew and the Stone

  Matthew and the Stone

  Stone Ranger

  Stone Undercover

  Chapter 1

  Welcome Back

  “Welcome back, Captain.”

  Marc’s eyes fluttered open. “Dr. Metra.” Marc recognized the doctor from her image on the video messages she had left him. He was on the Sakira, or at least he assumed he was. It was the alien spaceship that he and his brother, Blake, had found five months ago.

  “Ah good, you remember my name,” Dr. Metra said. “Tell me how you are feeling?”

  “Pretty good,” Marc said. “What have you done?”

  “You mean besides fix that stupid gunshot you gave yourself?”

  “It was an accident.”

  “Please, ADI might accept that from you since a Digital Intelligence doesn’t have any guile, but I know better. Now to answer your question, I repaired the damage to your intestines; took care of the entry and exit wounds. You had some cartilage damage to your right knee and your left shoulder; I suspect childhood sports. I took care of them as well as a few other minor injuries.”

  She moved around to the other side of the bed Marc was lying on, her eyes flicked upward as she operated the HUD in the wraparound glasses she was wearing. “Then I noticed that you had a little plaque buildup in your arteries, that was easy to take care of. You also had a small buildup of plaque in your brain, nothing serious, but I took care of that as well; you should notice a slight improvement in your speed of recall. I also took care of the skin damage that exposure to the sun has done to you. You had some mild hormonal imbalance that comes with age that was causing you to have gray hair and a few other minor inconveniences that I took care of as well. Evolution didn’t seem to care anymore about your species once you had ample opportunity to procreate than it did mine. I also repaired some stress wear on other joints, especially in your left hand. And the lenses of your eyes were starting to stiffen. I treated that, as well. You have excellent vision, by the way. ”

  Dr. Metra moved closer, leaned over,

  and put her face up to Marc’s. “What I can’t treat, nor can I understand, is whatever it was that made you do something so stupid as to shoot yourself.”

  “You’ll have to blame my daughter,” Marc said.

  “Please! … Children may be trying, but they are never so trying as that!”

  “That’s not what I meant. I promised her that I would get you out of stasis,” Marc said.

  “And this was the best plan you could come up with? Why not simply wait for me to come out on schedule.”

  “Well, that was going to take too long,” Marc said.

  “It shouldn’t have been more than a few weeks, months at the most.”

  “No, it was going to be thirty years,” Marc said.

  “Thirty years,” Dr. Metra’s ears came forward, showing her surprise and shocking Marc.

  Dr. Metra noticed the startled look, “Oh, you didn’t notice the ears before.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Marc said. “I just noticed those ridges on the bridge of your nose, they make you look like a Bajoran.”

  “A Bajoran?”

  “It’s from a science fiction show, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine,” Marc said. “Except for the ears, you look like Major Kira.”

  “Oh, I watched Star Trek,” Dr. Metra said. “I did like that Mr. Spock, he reminded me of my first husband.”

  Marc laughed.

  “So, you found the Sakira early,” Dr. Metra said.

  “I guess you could say it was early. This is 2018.”

  “Well, that explains the discrepancy in the schedule. But why did your daughter need me? Does she have a disease or condition I can treat?”

  “No, not her, her great grandparents,” Marc said. “They have Alzheimer’s. She was querying ADI about the various medical treatments the Paraxeans have when she realized that you had a cure for it.”

  “Very industrious of her. How old is your daughter?”

  “She’s twelve; actually, she turns thirteen next month.”

  “Well, I wish I could help her, but you should know that I must return to stasis now that you are well.”

  “ADI.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “I am declaring that Dr. Metra is critical to my mission. She is not to return to stasis.”

  “Yes, Captain. The doctor is now on active duty. Protocol no longer requires her to return to stasis.”

  “You can do that?” Dr. Metra asked, very much surprised.

  “Yes, as you can tell.”

  “But you couldn’t bring me out of stasis?”

  “No,” Marc said, “some other protocol prevented it.”

  “I was aware of that. But I was not aware that the captain could change my status after I was out of stasis,” Dr. Metra said. “That puts a whole new spin on things.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “I hope it doesn’t create any unintended consequences,” Dr. Metra said.

  “ADI says we’re good.”

  “Let’s hope she’s right.”

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  “Will she remember you?” Kal asked Blake. They were at the airport in Rarotonga waiting on the arrival of the lawyer Marc had hired.

  “Hey, six foot four, handsome devil like me, how could she forget?” Blake said.

  “She probably knew you back when your left side was the good side,” Kal said. “I don’t think your right side will hold up to that memory you’re cherishing.”

  “You do re
member that you still work for me,” Blake said.

  “Sure, but only because I want to,” Kal said.

  “Oh right, I forgot you’re now part of the idle rich. This is just a hobby for you.”

  “Some hobby,” Kal said. “Hey, here they come.” Kal motioned to the passengers who were now coming down the stairs from the Boeing 777. It took a few minutes before they started coming through customs.

  “What does she look like?” Kal asked.

  “Blond, five-foot-six, generally gorgeous,” Blake said. “Didn’t you look up her profile?”

  “Picture wasn’t all that great,” Kal said. “I think she wanted to look like a kick-ass lawyer, not a hot babe.”

  “Marc says she is a kick-ass lawyer,” Blake said. “I think that’s her.”

  The woman coming through immigration pulling a carryon waved to Blake.

  “Must be,” Kal said.

  Blake and Kal walked over to meet her halfway, “Ms. Newman?” Blake asked.

  “Yes,” Samantha Newman said. “You’re Blake, right?”

  “Yes, and this is Kal Kealoha, our head of security,” Blake said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Samantha said. “Please call me Sam.”

  “Are we waiting for more luggage?” Kal asked.

  “No, I shipped the rest,” Samantha said. “It’ll be here in a couple of weeks; Marc said to travel light. Where is he by the way?”

  “Off in Hawaii, last I heard,” Blake said. “He did tell you he wouldn’t be here, didn’t he?”

  “He said he probably wouldn’t be here,” Samantha said.

  “Well, I haven’t heard from him for a week, so who knows where he is. He left a bunch of stuff for you at the hotel, which means you’ll be busy right away,” Blake said.

  “He is so thoughtful,” Samantha said.

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  Blake gave Samantha the key to her room and the layout of the hotel and who was staying in each room. “I’ll see you in the office when you’re ready,” Blake said.

  It was only fifteen minutes before Samantha made her way into the office. “How are the accommodations?” Blake asked.

  “A bit rustic,” Samantha said.