Captivity

by Maureen Toonkel

“My findings are inconclusive,” stated Andrews looking away from Paul. He glanced at the dossier lying on the table and then began giving his report. “Chief Warrant Officer Jackson Greene was born in Kansas City, Missouri to William and Dorothy Greene. His parents own a restaurant called The Swinging Gate. Jackson was born with a condition called retinoblastoma which means he had cancer in both of his eyes. His eyes were removed and he has two prosthetic eyes. As a youngster Jackson was taught Braille along with adaptive computer techniques. He always showed an aptitude for technology. He earned a master’s degree in computer science and then entered the Space Academy. His instructors reported him to be a very intelligent and capable technician. He earned the rank of Chief Warrant Officer and was assigned to Space Station 14. After one year he was recently reassigned to the Gladiator.”

  “None of that sounds suspicious,” commented Pearson. “What makes the report inconclusive?”

  “Let me continue,” said Dave turning a few pages of the report. “Jackson belongs to an organization known as the Universal Coalition of the Blind or UCB for short. It is a group made up of people who are blind. They call themselves coalitionists. The UCB has been around for over 150 years. They have a reputation of being rebels in their zest to battle discrimination against the blind. Jackson holds the office of vice president. He attends the annual conventions and carries out his vice presidential duties via the computer. His association with the UCB is sanctioned by United Galaxy Command.”

  “Whoa,” exclaimed Paul letting out a loud whistle. “A group like the UCB would love to get their hands on a mind control drug. Imagine how they could use that drug to stop others from treating blind people badly.”

  “You raise a very good point,” agreed Andrews closing the report. “I came up with the same hypothesis.”

  “OK, so what do you suggest we do? Retain him? Interrogate him?” asked Pearson. This seemed like a stretch to him, but Loring and Andrews seemed convinced that this was something that could potentially be a lead.

  “No,” said Andrews, “we don’t want to tip our hand. We need to keep him under surveillance. If he is our spy, I would bet he is using computer transmissions to leak out information. Our next step should be to search Greene’s computer.”

  “We really do not know if Greene is our man. It still could be anyone aboard ship. Wouldn’t you say that, no matter who the informant is, the leaks are going through a computer?” Dave nodded affirmatively. “Hence I think we should check all the computers on the ship.”

  “Dennis,” announced Andrews. “You are absolutely right. Our next step is to run checks on the computers. I can gain access to all the computers through the main system in my office. I will begin that process immediately. Give me three or four hours. You have the command.”

  Dennis Pearson nodded slowly. Imagine that! Andrews is taking my suggestion. Who would have ever thunk it?

  Dave gathered up his report, returned Pearson’s nod, and exited the room. Dennis looked over at Paul Loring. Is that anxiety I see on his face? Or is it worry for the Captain as Dave said?

  Paul jumped down from the table. “You look like you could use a nap,” he told Dennis. “Why don’t you go lay down for a couple of hours. Doctor’s orders.” Paul let out a laugh and opened the door for Dennis.

  Lieutenant Shasta surveyed his surroundings. He was in a holding cell. Looking out through the thick rusty steel bars he could see a guard sitting at a small desk against a dark green wall to the left of the holding cell. Alongside the desk was a leather chair like the one he had been strapped into while the Captain was being interrogated. Was that only yesterday? He recalled thinking about Becky. Was he ever going to see her again? He tried to remember the last time he had talked to Becky. It was only a couple of weeks ago when the Gladiator had stopped at Space Station 14. He had asked Captain Stoner for permission to disembark. To his surprise the Captain granted his request, and he had several hours of leave. At times life aboard a ship like the Gladiator could be overwhelming, and despite the large crew and cramped quarters, he sometimes felt lonely and homesick. He had wandered around the Space Station mall area entering many of the quaint shops that sold items that were scarce on space vessels. There were chocolate bars, licorice, magazines, comic books, make-up, greeting cards, and souvenirs. At a tiny jewelry boutique, he had purchased a pair of gold earrings made with tiny space pebbles. It was for Becky’s upcoming birthday. He bought a romantic birthday card. At the Station’s Intergalactic Post Office he was able to package up the small gift and send it on its way to Vermont. Spying a phone booth he was suddenly filled with a strong desire to talk to Becky. Using his United Galaxy Command issued phone card he entered the phone booth and dialed Vermont. Becky answered the phone on the third ring, and they talked for a half hour until the time on his card ran out. He would have to wait for another month until he was issued more time on his card.

  “Ah, what do we have here?” Shasta recognized the voice as that of General Platt’s. He opened his eyes and saw the General standing right in front of the cell.

  “This is slave 1192 C. He was captured yesterday on the planet’s surface,” explained the guard. “He was causing trouble this morning.”

  “I see. What kind of trouble were you causing?” asked the General.

  “I didn’t know I was causing trouble,” replied Shasta.

  “He was talking to slave 1191 C,” inserted the guard.

  “Ah, well since you want to talk, perhaps you can talk to me. What were you and your friends doing on Brisula?”

  Shasta took a gulp before answering. What could he say that might satisfy Platt but wouldn’t be secret information? “We were just on a holiday break. We needed some rest and relaxation and thought that Brisula would be a good place for that.”

  “Ah!” General Platt spat as he reached in through the bars and lifted Shasta up by his chin. His feet were dangling three feet above the ground, “That’s not what your comrade Hampton told me.”

  Hampton is here? The revelation startled Shasta.

  Platt recognized the surprise on Wayne Shasta’s face. “Yes, your comrade is also here. He told me that your crew was on an exploratory mission to check out the suitably for human life on Brisula. What I need to know is why?”

  Oh wow. How could Keith have given out that information? I was tortured yesterday, but I didn’t crack. Shasta looked down at the General. “I have no idea why Lieutenant Hampton would have said something like that,” he told him. “If you tortured him the way you did me yesterday, he could have been delirious and didn’t know what he was saying.”

  General Platt let go, and Shasta tumbled to the floor. “Escort him over to C-1 and put him to work,” he ordered the guard.

  The guard opened the cell and pulled Shasta out. They walked past three other punishment rooms and down a long corridor. Eventually they came to a large gravel pit where a congregation of slaves were digging into the dirt with wooden handled shovels. He was marched around the perimeter of the pit until they came upon Captain Stoner. Shasta was chained into place alongside Stoner. He was handed a shovel and ordered to dig. The Captain gave him a nod, but Shasta simply lowered his head and began shoveling.

  Dennis Pearson drummed his fingers on the thick wooden table. Paul’s order of sleep had not helped at all. I’m so tired of these meetings. We should be down on Brisula looking for the Captain. Not sitting around thinking up useless theories. There was a sharp knock on the door which caused him to almost jump out of his seat. Who is that?

  “Come in,” yelled Dennis. The annoyance in his voice was obvious. The door opened a crack and Diane stuck her head in.

  “Can I come in?” she whispered.

  “Of course,” said Pearson. “I didn’t know it was you.”

  “Who were you expecting? It sounded like you were ready to bite someone.”

  “I’m sorry. I’d never bite you.”

  “Well, that’s nice to know.”

  Dennis pulled out a chair for
Diane. Once she was seated he bent down and patted her hair. He kissed her on the forehead. “Do you need something?” he asked.

  “Actually, I’m here on official business, Lieutenant Commander Pearson.” She gave him a grin and he let go of her hair.

  “Proceed, Lieutenant Pearson.” He grinned back.

  “I picked up another transmission. This one said

  “ATTENTION SLAVES. TODAY’S PRODUCTION WAS BELOW STANDARDS. YOU WILL ALL BE EXPECTED TO WORK FASTER TOMORROW.”

  Diane put down the printout she was reading from. She looked straight into her husband’s eyes. “Officer Greene and I are quite certain that these transmissions are coming from Brisula. Denny, there is life on Brisula.”

  “Diane, can you prepare a list of all the transmissions we’ve intercepted? Please list them in chronological order.”

  “Sure, I can do that.”

  “I will need three copies. Bring them back here in an hour.” Diane rose and headed for the door. “Oh, and Lieutenant, I love you.”

  “I love you too,” She gave Dennis a wink and scooted out the door.

  Josh flopped down on the floor. He didn’t realize how out of shape he was. His arms ached from the repetitive shoveling over the last sixteen hours. He couldn’t remember when he had worked so hard. He looked over at his three young officers. They seemed to be holding up better then he was. He was anxious to talk to Wayne Shasta. Where had he been taken this morning?

  Right on cue the slaves rose and stuck their arms out of the cage. The guards came by with buckets of fish. Josh grabbed as much fish as he could fit in his hands. He needed to make sure that he and his crew kept up their strength. He sat down again next to Shasta. Wayne had not realized that he was supposed to get up and grab for his supper. Josh shared his catch with his laser technician. As he sunk his teeth into the bitter raw fish, he wondered where the Brisulans were getting the fish. When the Gladiator crew were exploring the surface they had noticed only one body of water. It was a small lake. There was no life in the lake other than algae. It was determined to be suitable for life, and if it was stocked with fish it would become a viable source of food. But if there was no fish in the lake now, where was their supper coming from?

  “ATTENTION SLAVES,” came the loud voice over the loudspeaker. “TODAY’S PRODUCTION WAS BELOW STANDARDS. YOU WILL ALL BE EXPECTED TO WORK FASTER TOMORROW.”

  A resounding moan sounded in unison as the slaves reacted to the announcement. The water buckets were lowered, and everyone ran to get their share. Once the buckets were raised the slaves were allowed to talk. Josh’s first question was for Shasta.

  “Where did they take you this morning?” he asked.

  “Down some silver tunnel to a holding cell. Platt asked me why we were on Brisula.”

  “You didn’t tell him did you?”

  “No, sir. I told him we were on a holiday.”

  “Really?” questioned Josh raising his eye brows. “What did Platt say?”

  “He didn’t like that answer.”

  “No, I suppose not,” grinned Josh.

  “It didn’t mesh with what Keith told him.”

  Oh, yes, thought Josh. I wasn’t able to get an answer yesterday from Keith. “What did Platt say that Keith told him?”

  Wayne had noticed Keith and Beverly while they were gnawing on the fish. At one point his eyes had met Keith’s. He and Keith had become close friends since joining the Gladiator. Wayne considered Keith to be the brother he never had. They had spent endless hours trying to figure out why Captain Stoner was so hard on the two of them. He hated having to snitch on Keith, but what choice did he have? Apparently Keith was the traitor that the Admiral was looking for. No matter how he felt about Keith, his duty to United Galaxy Command came first.

  “Lieutenant, what did Keith say?” the Captain asked again. He sounded impatient.

  “Sir, um, well, um…” stammered Shasta.

  “Out with it. Lieutenant,” ordered Josh.

  “Keith told Platt that we were on a mission to find out if Brisula was suitable for human life.”

  Josh turned away from Shasta and scooted over as close as he possibly could to where Hampton and Glenna were sitting and holding hands.

  “Lieutenant Hampton,” he said sternly.

  Keith glanced over his shoulder to find the Captain sitting right behind him. Keith looked at his face and saw anger in the Captain’s eyes. “Yes, sir?” he said.

  “Did you tell General Platt that our mission was to determine if Brisula was suitable for human life?”

  Keith sneaked a peek over at Wayne Shasta and then turned back to the Captain. This is definitely the end of my career and possibly my life. “Yes, sir. I did,” Keith answered quietly. Josh could barely hear him over the din in the cage.

  “Did you say yes?” asked Josh.

  “Yes sir. I did,” repeated Keith a bit louder.

  “Lieutenant Hampton, do you realize the position you have put us in? You have—“

  “Captain,” interrupted Beverly. “Keith had no choice.”

  “Ensign, there is always a choice.”

  “QUIET!” screamed the voice over the loudspeaker. “NO MORE TALKING.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  May 29

  At 0300 hours Dave Andrews summoned Paul Loring and Dennis Pearson to the Conference Room. He had spent the last three hours searching through dozens of computers looking for any unusual or unauthorized activity. It was very precise and tedious work. The kind of assignment he loved. If he had his druthers he would spend most of his free time tinkering around inside computers. Unlike people computers were logical and made sense to him. People on the other hand were sometimes such a puzzle to him.

  Pearson and Loring entered the room together.

  “Hey, Dave,” said Paul. “I just got a message on my computer that said I should push any key to continue. Can you tell me where I can find the any key?”

  Andrews shook his head. Paul had a habit of telling him old lame computer jokes. “Very funny.”

  Dennis Pearson also shook his head. How could Paul tell jokes at a time like this? “Let’s get started,” he demanded. “We don’t have time to waste.”

  Commander Andrews shuffled the pages he had laid out on the table top. That was just the attitude that made him detest Pearson. What’s wrong with a little laughter? Lord knows things have been so tense the last few days. “OK. I’m ready. I will summarize my findings. If either of you want to read the full report in detail, I will supply you with a copy. Since we are monitoring computer activity I do not feel comfortable posting it.

  “I have scrutinized the personal computer files of all crew members, the official data computers, the Library computers, and the computers that run the ship. The only computers that were not examined were the ones that contain the crew’s personnel files and the one that holds all of our medical files. Captain Joshua Stoner and Admiral Alan Wilcox are the only staff who have the password into the personnel files, and Dr. Loring and the Captain are the only persons who know the password for the medical computer.”

  Andrews then gave a description of the methods he used to search the databases and document files. Most of this was too complicated for Pearson and Loring to grasp, but they politely listened. Andrews was in his element, and he loved showing off his vast computer knowledge.

  A soft tapping on the door interrupted Dave’s lecture. Pearson pushed back his chair and lifted himself up. Opening up the door he found his lovely wife carrying a tray of coffee and cookies. A manila folder with some white paper sticking out was tucked under her arm. Dennis relieved her of the heavy tray and placed it on the table. Still holding the folder under her arm she poured three cups of coffee.

  “I have the list of transmissions that you asked me to prepare,” she addressed Pearson while opening up the folder. She handed a single sheet to each of the men sitting around the table.

  “Please read it out loud, Lieutenant,” said Dennis Pearson.

&n
bsp; “Yes, sir. I am sorry that I am late. I just intercepted the fourth transmission on the list.” She took the last paper out of the folder and read it out loud.

  List of Transmissions from Brisula in Chronological Order

  ‘The sensors also report that at least one and possibly two intruders have entered our city. They are to be apprehended and brought to Punishment Center C-7.’

  ‘Good Morning...All slaves are to be dispatched to section C-1 today.’

  ‘Attention slaves. Today’s production was below standards. You will all be expected to work faster tomorrow.’

  ‘Quiet. No more talking.’

  “Thank you, Lieutenant.” Pearson gave his wife a smile. “I asked Lieutenant Pearson to prepare the list for us. It is something I thought we should examine.” He gave her a nod, and she understood she was being dismissed. “Thank you for the coffee and cookies.”

  Diane picked up the empty manila folder and headed for the door. However she was stopped by Dave Andrews. “Lieutenant Pearson. Please do not leave. I would like you to take a seat.”

  “What?” cried out Pearson, and Loring echoed him.

  “You will understand as I continue my report.”

  “Andrews,” exclaimed Pearson. “this is highly irregular.”

  “Trust me, Dennis.”

  Andrews blew on the hot coffee and took a swig. How was he going to keep Pearson under control? Normally he wouldn’t care, but under the circumstances he needed Pearson. And he needed him to function on all gears. “As I was reporting,” began Andrews. “I have been searching for any unusual activity on any of the computers aboard the Gladiator. I found two very suspicious fragments of messages. Both of these fragments were found on a crew member’s personal computer.”

  “What do you mean by fragments?” inquired Pearson.

  “They are pieces of original transmissions that got left behind when the documents were deleted.” Andrews flipped through the report papers until he found the page he was looking for. “One fragment said: ‘To General Platt, Tradian’ and the other fragment said: ‘Brisula is suitable for life.’”