Renegade Patriot

by Oscar Andrews

  Neffy stirred in his chair, closing the holo he had been examining. “Okay. Whatever happens next, we need backup. I’m going to see if I can get ahold of Trent to organize that.”

  He stood up and left the room, leaving Ally working on multiple holoscreens.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The corridor was about five degrees cooler than the room they’d been working in for the last twelve or more hours. While Neffy didn’t need to come out into the corridor to communicate privately on e-DNA strings, it was good to have a break.

  Neffy tapped away on his personal holo, projected from his left arm.

  NEFFY: Update. On Aegelweard. NAs stole tech from Drewdonia. D sent Aegelweard to retrieve or destroy. Tech not an immediate threat, but could be if assembled. Tracking. Appears NAs could be close to setting it up. Recommending surface interception.

  He waited. Although the Entangled-DNA-based messaging system was instantaneous, Trent needed to be alerted to the message, read it and then formulate a response.

  He wandered down the corridor, realizing just how long he’d been sitting in one position. Stretching out his upper back and shoulders, he found a second empty meeting room, similar to the one they’d been using, and ambled in. He approached the windows, which looked out into the local star system. It all looked so clear. So immense. So beautiful. It was the reason he loved being off-world all the time – to experience the vastness and variety the galaxy had to offer, to stand on other worlds beneath other stars. There was no feeling like it. New Atlantia was glinting in the rosy Kepler-186 sunlight.

  His wrist vibrated, and he pulled up his holoscreen to read Trent’s response.

  TRENT: Permission granted. Backup?

  NEFFY: Requesting backup. D seem volatile in temperament. Haafiz may have been compromised. Check associates and scan communications. Suspect being leveraged. Also suspect environmental factors causing elevated stress in crew. More intel required.

  Neffy had been wracking his brain trying to figure out what was wrong with these folks, and he still thought there might be some environmental factors at play on their home planet. Something that was making them more aggressive and stressed out. Whatever it was, it was having a more extreme effect on the men – or at least that seemed likely, based on the reports of random violence after meaningless arguments between the men of Drewdonia. In all likelihood, Trent would now start his own investigation into this aspect of the problem. He probably already had a local team in place. It wouldn’t be unusual for him, with so many of his research expeditions doubling as sources of intelligence. Neffy had overheard him talking with a research associate once when he’d been in his office in Vienna. He couldn’t work out whether the associate was an operative for the Federation, or a researcher for one of Trent’s cultural programs. He concluded that Trent probably ran them as both, even before he was appointed head of the Peace Task Force.

  TRENT: Understood. Nature of backup for surface mission?

  He was referring to Neffy going down to the surface himself. It was a bit unusual for Trent to agree so quickly with Neffy’s dangerous plans. Maybe Trent just understood that he needed some leverage in this situation. Something to stop Haafiz from firing, and something else to keep the New Atlantians from interfering on the surface, or blowing the Drewdonians out of their sky. If they were in on it, and it wasn’t a rogue group of some kind, then things could get very dangerous very quickly if they found out Neffy was on an intercept course.

  Trent wasn’t waiting for a response. Neffy’s wrist buzzed again, and the e-DNA updated.

  TRENT: FFS Troy nearby. With you in 35h. Will provide ground support, and orbital support against both NA and D.

  NEFFY: TY!

  TRENT. Good hunting. Out.

  35 hours. That was long enough for all of this to be over, though. He hoped he could hold the two parties off each other for long enough, because at this rate something was bound to flare up before the Federation Fleet Ship Troy got to them.

  And he needed to figure out how to get some sleep – especially before the surface mission. He was wiped out, and his eyes felt sore. It wouldn’t be long before the overall fatigue would intensify almost to the point of delirium, and that certainly wouldn’t help his already unsteady grip on reality – or time.

  Probably should lay off the macca, he thought to himself. He hadn’t really eaten, either, although that wasn’t unusual for him when he was working hard.

  He updated his time log, and then wandered back through to the other room to let Ally know what was going on.

  Good hunting. That was what Trent said when he meant “be careful.” Maybe he did care, a little.

  +++

  Trent leaned back in his ergonomic control chair, which was hooked up to all the systems he used to monitor his teams.

  Okay – just a moment, he said to himself, allowing a few moments of indulgence to think about Neffy’s mission and their unusual history.

  After looking out for him from a distance for so many years, he had to admit that he did think of the boy almost as his own child. But he had to be professional. He had believed in the boy from the beginning, and it was obvious that Neffy was desperate for his approval.

  But he just couldn’t allow himself to become overprotective. An error in judgment could destroy the boy and destroy all that they had achieved. Decades of research would come into question, endangering breakthroughs their whole way of life was founded on…especially if it came out that Neffy had been one of the major test subjects in their breakthroughs.

  He sighed, rubbing his face, and turning his attention back to his work. He just couldn’t think of Neffy as anything other than an important asset. Neffy kept expecting Trent to open up, to give him the praise and acceptance he craved. But it couldn’t be like that. Not ever. The suspicion of personal favoritism would bring all their projects into question.

  He flicked open another holoscreen. He had a call coming in. No more time for sentiment. Trent was The Colonel again before he even spoke.

  +++

  There was a tap on the door.

  “Yes?” hollered Neffy, not taking his eyes from his screens.

  The door slid open and Flight Sergeant Zagir Serpico stepped through, allowing the door to slip closed just behind him.

  “I bear good news,” he said brightly. Neffy distrusted the man’s overly friendly tone. He clearly wanted something.

  Serpico went on, “We’ve set up quarters for you. There are fresh beds and showers available if you’d care to rest.” Playing the host didn’t really suit him. Neffy could tell the Flight Sergeant didn’t normally wait on others.

  “Thank you, Flight Sergeant. That is incredibly kind of you. Would you pass our thanks on to Commander Haafiz as well, please?”

  “Of course,” he responded with a slight bow. He showed no signs of moving.

  Neffy waited. Serpico clearly wasn’t done with his visit.

  “We were wondering if there have been any developments in your investigation,” he said. His tone was polite, but he had obviously come merely to gather information.

  Neffy smiled a knowing smile. He’d seen right through this man so easily.

  “We’re making progress,” he responded. His tone was strictly professional.

  Serpico looked unsatisfied. In the interests of maintaining good relations, Neffy thought it would probably be prudent to give him something. It was better than seeing what he acted like when he wasn’t trying to be so congenial.

  Neffy was careful to limit what he disclosed, “We’ve called in some Federation support to help us with the ground mission. We should expect to know more in a few hours, but if you have any further data on the condition of the prototype, or the group who may be escorting it, it would certainly help the offensive.”

  At this point, they still had no idea what they might be walking into, and it was entirely possible that the Drewdonians knew something about who had taken their meal ticket. They were still playing their cards clos
e to the chest, though.

  Serpico was silent for a moment, contemplating the information. Sharing intelligence without authorization was clearly not something he was willing to do. “Let me convey this to Commander Haafiz. If we have anything we can share, I’ll have it sent down to you. Will that do, sir?” He smiled obsequiously, as if he still thought Neffy was buying his act.

  Neffy returned the smile. “We hope to be able to report something more substantial as soon as we have it. But we’re glad to have these schematics, so we do not have to fire on the prototype.” Neffy was toying with Serpico at this point. Ally eyed her friend suspiciously, not knowing whether to be outraged or amused.

  The conversation concluded, and Serpico left. The expression on his face as he walked out was something like relief. Progress had been made, they were still investigating, and he had something to tell Haafiz. It was enough. For now.

  “They’re going to find out,” Ally warned, as soon as the door was closed safely behind him. “They have a right to know, and if they find out that we know, they’ll never trust us.”

  “We have to maintain a ceasefire,” Neffy responded dismissively. The frustration and fatigue were clearly catching up to him.

  Ally was about to argue that they were representatives of the Federation and as such needed to maintain a reputation of integrity. She bit her tongue. She knew Neffy when he was like this. She’d be wasting her breath, and would probably just make the tension worse.

  She pivoted, trying to change the subject to something a little more amenable. “Nice of him to offer us showers and sleeping quarters. You must be exhausted. How long since you actually slept?”

  “Not sure. I’d have to check my time log,” he answered shortly. He’d gone back to his screens and was once again deeply engrossed in making sure his decision logs were up to date. If the Federation was showing up, he’d need to hand them over ahead of the briefing. Strict protocol meant that any action they took would need to be backed up with hard intelligence. It was the only way they could avoid problems down the line.

  “Neff. Why don’t you let me keep processing this data, and you go grab a shower and some downtime. It couldn’t hurt. Especially now that we know that the device isn’t an immediate threat.” Ally was pushing, but she could do with some time without Neffy hanging around, too.

  “I just need to make sure these logs are ready. We have less than 35 hours until we move,” Neffy replied, barely registering Ally’s interruption.

  “And that’s plenty of time for you to get some rest. You’re pushing too hard again.” Ally’s voice was gentle and supportive. While her cybernetic brain and synthetic body could function without sleep, she knew Neffy struggled, particularly given his condition.

  “I bet you’re missing time again, aren’t you?” Ally probed.

  Neffy was tired, so it wasn’t a huge leap to assume he was. It happened more when he was run down. Something to do with the stability of brain chemistry, the researchers had said. Not that they ever got to the bottom of exactly what was causing it.

  Neffy didn’t answer.

  He did need some rest. And time away from having to second-guess everything. He said nothing, trying to decide what to do.

  Moments later, he got up and walked out, leaving Ally staring after him wondering how the hell she was going to get through to him.

  Neffy hated this tension between them, but couldn’t deal with it right now. At the time when he really needed her support, Ally was turning out to be his biggest challenge on this mission. He knew he’d made the right play by not telling Haafiz about the device. The Federation would back him on that decision when they got here – he was almost certain. But right now, he just felt too emotional, and too exhausted, to really know if he was right, or whether Ally was onto something.

  Maybe Ally was right. Maybe he couldn’t trust his own judgment right now.

  Ally watched her best friend leave, and the door sliding closed after him, cutting them off from each other. Though it pained her to see him in such a state, this latest friction with Neffy was the least of her problems right now. Ally needed a new plan. And fast. A plan that would keep Neffy alive, and still allow her to destroy the device, and – if she were super lucky – prevent an intercolonial war.

  This wasn’t something she would normally handle on her own. Neffy would normally be the brains of the operation. But now, between Neffy being off his game, and the subject of her dark mission, the hope of bringing him in on what was going on was quickly evaporating.

  Ally really was on her own.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Neffy stepped into the low-lit guest quarters Serpico had allocated to them. The warmth and comfort of the living space was a welcome relief in comparison with the cold, metallic feel of the rest of the ship. The decor was subdued, all deep rich purples. Off to the right was a bedroom, with an en suite showering facility. The main room was windowless, but spacious, housing a sturdy-looking sofa and various devices like replicators and comms units. Scanning to his left, he saw that the room opened out into a dining area, complete with a table and six chairs, all set as if company would be arriving any minute.

  Neffy started undoing his lifesuit. Lightweight and comfortable, it was the most sensible attire for anyone doing his kind of role. The kind of role where one was in and out of cars, and ships, and the semi-controlled atmospheres of the carports and buildings. He had noticed most of the warriors on New Atlantia also wore lifesuits. It suggested that either they all did a lot of space hopping during their work day, or the atmosphere was still too harsh for the human body to take on a day-to-day basis. He couldn’t imagine having to live in his lifesuit if he wasn’t working.

  He idly thought of the month he had stayed on Scott Island on T3. It rained constantly, and the local inhabitants would have to wear waterproof clothing, from head to toe, every time they stepped outside. It seemed ridiculous to have to keep putting on the equivalent of a lifesuit every time you wanted to go from building to building. Other than the cold and the rain, the atmosphere had been perfectly healthy. He was glad he was only there for a short time but imagined that New Atlantia was probably similar in terms of the hassle factor.

  Dying for a shower, he looked around for his bag. Serpico had said that he would have it delivered here for him. He noticed something by the side of the sofa. That was it. Scooping it up, he headed through to the bedroom and en suite, undoing fastenings and stripping off as he went.

  Opening his bag for some soft clothing, he decided he would take a few hours to sleep, after all. He knew he needed it. He looked down at the bag. The zipper wasn’t quite closed, and the airtight seal had been broken, and not reactivated. It had probably been searched. Damn the Drewdonians. Is nothing fucking sacred? he cursed under his breath. These guys were verging on outright paranoia. He understood that they just wanted to know whose side he and Ally were on. He got that. But going through a Federation agent’s personal belongings was just not done.

  Still irritated, he finished organizing himself, stepped into the shower room, and turned on the shower. Hot pulsing water came out, and he fiddled with the settings to get the cleansing and mineral properties just right. Too much cleansing agent dried out his skin and made his thick dark hair more frizzy than it needed to be. But too little and he didn’t feel like he was washing off the day. When he was satisfied, he stepped in, and the hot water pulsed over him, cleaning off the oils and grime, and washing the stresses of the last fifty-some hours from his body. He pushed his fingers into his hair, and massaged his scalp, helping the water to perform its function on his hair.

  Gradually, Neffy began to relax and feel the tension melt away.

  His mind flicked over the events since he had woken up. The friction with Ally was bothering him. He felt guilt and anxiety in the pit of his stomach when he thought about how he was locking Ally out. He thought about how he’d lied in the report to make sure that Trent wasn’t incriminated. Ally had officially taken the brunt
of the blame, but everyone knew that Neffy was the reckless one, and Ally was probably covering for him – that’s why Ally hadn’t been suspended. Still, Neffy felt bad for her. And for his part in it.

  The hot water was probably getting to him, though. He started to feel too hot, and nauseated. He scrambled to turn the temperature down, fiddling with the holopanel on the shower wall. It was unfamiliar, and trying to figure it out with water cascading all around him was tricky…and then he realized: he was feeling faint. Blackout kind of faint. He knew what would happen next. He’d felt this a hundred times before.

  “Shit!” he muttered, trying to get the holopanel to respond and knock the water temperature down a few degrees. Something seemed to be working. It was cooling down. But he wasn’t. His vision darkened and darkened before it narrowed, and then everything was black. He was completely at peace, except for a strange feeling in his chest.

  A second later he was in an office. A brightly lit, wood-paneled room like something from his childhood. It felt so familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Mind racing, confused, he stepped into the room, noticing the old-fashioned carpeting and big desk in front of him. It looked official. Like whoever sat here was important. There was a name panel on the desk, but his brain was too overwhelmed to make out the writing. That was a clue. A clue that this was a dream. A fabrication of his mind. Knowing that, he thought he would relax, but as he rounded the desk to investigate further, anxiety welled up inside him. He started to lose his breath. Something bad was coming. He knew it.

  He looked down.

  There, lying on his back, as if he was asleep, was a man. He was in full Federation uniform. He looked closer, dread churning in the pit of his stomach. Don’t let it be Trent. Don’t let it be Trent, he prayed. As he stepped closer, he could see the man’s face. Splattered with blood, in sharp lines across his profile. It was Trent. He knew it would be. And for some reason he felt an enormous sense of guilt. Seconds later he was in blackness again. He felt nauseated, and then became aware that his head and face hurt. He was lying on tiles again, but this time water was falling on him. He moved his head and realized that his face was being splashed. Where was he now?