Starship Alchemon

by Christopher Hinz

  Ericho tried another tack to verify his theory. “OK, even before LeaMarsa went to Jamal, she must have known she was a genejob, right?”

  “Of course. She told the researchers as much when she arrived.”

  “Then we have to go back to when she first learned about it. Is her full bio included here?”

  “It is.” The crewdoc hesitated. “But I still don’t get what you’re looking for. In light of our situation, what possible relevance could any of this have?”

  “Trust me.”

  June accessed the appropriate pages. Ericho scanned LeaMarsa’s timeline, starting with her earliest years and stopping when her parents died in the shuttle crash along with forty other passengers and crew. They’d been taking off from Rodan, the giant mining colony near the lunar south pole, intending to rendezvous at one of the orbital stations for transfer to an Earthbound vessel. In a matter of days, mother, father and daughter would have been reunited.

  “It has to be here somewhere,” he said.

  “What does?”

  He kept scanning. And then, as abruptly as he’d connected the pieces of the puzzle on the bridge, he found his proof.

  “Look!”

  She followed his pointing finger, silently read the paragraphs. They were from a required school report LeaMarsa had composed at age thirteen. The assignment had been for students to discuss plans for their futures. With her parents recently deceased, LeaMarsa’s report blazed with bitterness.

  “Not surprising how angry and resentful she’d be under those circumstances,” June said, still not making the connection.

  “Look again,” he urged. “The section where she’s talking about mitochondrials, discovering that her parents injected them into her embryo.”

  “I read all this a while back. It’s so sad. And it’s perfectly understandable why she’d be so angry. What they did to her in utero was unforgivable.”

  June still wasn’t seeing it. He highlighted a sentence in the middle of the paragraph. “Right there, the specific date she mentions when she made the discovery. Look at the date! Then look back at that timeline, the date of her parents’ deaths.”

  June’s eyes widened with comprehension. “The dates are the same.” She shook her head, unwilling to accept where Ericho’s thoughts were leading. “No. What you’re thinking can’t be possible.”

  “I think it is. This is the truth she’s been hiding from the world, and more importantly, from herself. This is the origin of the reek, those psychological pains of an unknown source and nature.”

  “You must be mistaken.”

  Ericho couldn’t blame June for being skeptical. It was a wild, outlandish theory.

  “A week ago, I would have been just as disbelieving. But now, with what we’ve seen of the creature, with what we know it’s capable of, is something like this really all that hard to accept?”

  “That those dates are the same could be coincidence. Or a simple mistake. She or someone else could have transposed the numbers.”

  “You don’t really believe that. Remember what you told me days ago, about LeaMarsa being the most powerful psionic projector, literally off the charts in a whole range of psychic indicators?”

  He could tell that June’s doubts were fading. But she made a final attempt to repudiate his theory. “None of this constitutes proof. You can’t be certain.”

  “But I am, as certain of this as I’ve been of anything in my life. Call it a psychic hunch. I’m a receptor, remember, caught up like the rest of us in a superluminal storm. You and the others suffer nightmares. My symptoms are different. I get consumed by anger and lash out at Hardy. And I dream about returning to a city that’s no longer there.

  “But more importantly, I believe that for whatever reason, I’ve gained real insight into LeaMarsa. I just might be the first person to acknowledge the unvarnished truth about her, see what everyone else over the years either overlooked or dismissed.

  “She’s being totally driven by these unconscious pains, this reek. It’s compelling her to cooperate with the creature. That’s why she insisted on staying in the natatorium.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “I can’t really explain. But I’m certain that the creature is leading her toward a fate that will result in your nightmare coming true for the entire Corporeal.”

  “OK, let’s say for a moment that I believe you. What can be done about it?”

  “Make sure LeaMarsa doesn’t go down that road.”

  “You mean use this against her? Force her to acknowledge the truth about herself?”

  “Yes.”

  “That won’t be easy. Even if you’re right, she’s had years to erect psychological barriers against such a thing, against acknowledging the source of such a terrible pain. No matter how we put it to her, she’ll refuse to believe.”

  “We’re not going to put it to her. I am. You’re staying here.”

  June’s presence would cause him to worry about her safety, distract him from a dangerous undertaking. This was something Ericho needed to do alone.

  “You’ll need my help,” she argued. “She’ll almost certainly go into full-blown denial. What if you can’t get through to her?”

  He hadn’t given that possibility much thought. But in an instant of brutal clarity, he realized that if he couldn’t get LeaMarsa to acknowledge the truth about herself, there was only one option.

  “If I can’t get through to her I’ll have to take extreme measures.”

  This time, June immediately grasped his meaning. Her face paled. “Ericho, you can’t. You wouldn’t.”

  But if it came down to LeaMarsa versus the future of humanity, he might have no choice.

  I’ll have to kill her.

  CHAPTER 37

  The blinking effect ended. Consciousness stopped ping-ponging between the natatorium and neurospace. For the moment, LeaMarsa existed only as a solitary figure beside the pool.

  Her anticipation continued to build. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the creature rose from the depths in a form more suitable for their journey back to Earth. It was also clear to her that humanity would suffer for her choice, of accepting what it offered.

  So what if the species does suffer? Why should LeaMarsa de Host, the freaky ghost, be concerned about what happens to humanity?

  So-called humanity had never been concerned about her.

  She knew it was a rationalization, an attempt to make what she was about to do more digestible. Still, in the end, feelings of guilt weren’t important. Freedom from the reek was all that mattered.

  CHAPTER 38

  Ericho headed for the natatorium with only the vaguest notion of how he was going to accomplish his task. He tried not to think about what a longshot it was. He couldn’t afford to be overwhelmed by futility.

  He concentrated on what needed to be done: persuade LeaMarsa to change her course of action by having her confront the horrific event she’d blotted from her mind. It could be the only way to save the Alchemon, not to mention the Corporeal’s billions.

  Of course, there was the grimmer alternative he’d broached to June. Had Rigel been here, he likely would have urged Ericho to go directly to Plan B, kill LeaMarsa on sight.

  Serious hurdles stood in the way of implementing that scenario. First, if the creature even suspected he was trying to end her life, it likely would find a way to terminate him. And even if he survived such an onslaught, a more fundamental impediment would need to be overcome.

  Ericho had never killed anyone. He’d never even contemplated such a thing, not really. His earlier rages at Hardy had provided insight as to how one human could carry out such violence against another. But even when caught up in those raw emotions toward the science rep, he’d felt he could never go through with them, that a more rational and fundamental expression of his nature would always win out. Within the sanctity of the virtual, he might perpetrate cold-blooded murder. But here in the real world…

  And then there was the
fact he bore no animosity toward LeaMarsa, no sense of personal outrage to fuel such an act. No matter what was at stake, to stand before a young woman who was merely a pawn in others’ machinations and extinguish her life would require an iciness of purpose he wasn’t sure he possessed. And since he carried no Higgs cutter or other serious weapon, killing her would have to be done up-close and personal.

  His mind revolted at the mere contemplation of such things. He sought sanctity in more pleasant thoughts, or at least ones that were bittersweet. Upon departing the medcenter moments ago, he’d experienced what might well have been his last conversation with June.

  Circumstances dictated that their final words ring untruthful. If the creature was eavesdropping, deception was necessary so that his trek to the natatorium wouldn’t be hindered.

  “Maybe Rigel’s still alive,” he’d told June after deactivating the safepad. “It’s my duty as captain to make every attempt to save him.”

  The tech officer was gone. They both knew it.

  June had pressed her faceplate against his. It was as much of an intimacy as possible within the confinement of shieldsuits.

  “I’m glad we could have this time together,” she’d said.

  “I’m glad too.”

  “I do love you, Ericho Solorzano. So, come back to me, OK?”

  Those final words performed double duty, reinforcing the charade while bristling with genuine emotion.

  Jonomy’s voice in his helmet wrenched thoughts back to the here and now.

  “Captain, I again suggest you reconsider your course of action and return to the bridge. Even if Rigel somehow survived, he is surely beyond rescue.”

  “Good advice,” Ericho admitted. “But there are some things a captain must do.” He changed the subject before the lytic could lodge further protests. “Any updates on our status?”

  “Yes. In regard to those subtle alterations made to NEL, the decoupling of those output power modules: the half dozen repair pups that have gathered at the portal of the nexus site were activated. They are making new wiring connections between NEL and SCO. It appears to be an effort to route additional power to the Big Three. Other changes to those systems were made by the earlier incursion by the combo robot. I have not determined a reason for any of these alterations. There are a few scenarios, but none that rise to the level of reasonable probability.”

  Ericho wondered if Jonomy knew more about what the alterations portended but wasn’t comfortable broaching it with the creature likely eavesdropping.

  “If you figure things out and believe a specific action is immediately required, don’t wait for my OK.”

  The intercom was silent for a moment. Then…

  “Captain, is there anything else you would have me do?”

  The words echoed fatalism, a trait Ericho rarely associated with cyberlytic humans. Jonomy sensed that he was likely on a one-way mission.

  “Carry on as best you can,” Ericho said, breaking the com link.

  He reached the corridor outside the pool without incident. Either the creature had bought into their deception or simply didn’t regard him as a viable threat. No roadblocks had been put in his path.

  Until now.

  Up ahead, a dozen maintenance pups were stacked in the natatorium’s entrance, the hole Rigel had cut in the portal. Their appendages were interlocked, forming a three-by-four barrier. Beyond the pups, the fog had dissipated. He could see all the way to the transformed pool. LeaMarsa stood at the edge, a statue in waiting, gazing out over the mirrorlike surface.

  He strode to within two paces of the pups and halted. It was clear they weren’t going to move to allow him entry. Perhaps Jonomy could have come up with a subtle plan to circumvent the makeshift barrier. But time was running out. Subtle methods were no longer in the playbook.

  He powered his shieldsuit forward at breakneck speed, arms extended. His fists caught the two pups in the middle of the formation, easily knocked them out of the way. Swinging his arms right and left, and up and down, he smashed his way through the rest of the robots. A series of reverberating clangs echoed through the air. He punched one of the pups with such fury that it fell to the floor, dead on arrival.

  And then he was through. He whirled around, expecting the pups to regroup, perhaps mount a counterattack. Although they weren’t weaponized, a swarm of pups smashing into him from all sides might challenge even a shieldsuited man. But other than the ones too damaged to stay aloft, they simply reformed into a new wall. Why they were leaving him alone became clear a moment later.

  “Captain, your unprovoked assault has alerted the Sentinel,” Jonomy said. “It is considering dispatching the warrior pups to the natatorium to address your erratic behavior.”

  There was nothing to be done about that. He walked past the hulking exercisers, keeping his target in view. LeaMarsa’s back remained to him. Either she was unaware of his approach or unconcerned.

  “I am attempting to convince the Sentinel that you are acting in the ship’s best interests,” Jonomy said. “For the moment, it is evaluating. Indications from SEN are that should you retreat from the natatorium, the Sentinel alert would be withdrawn.”

  Ericho repeated the lie. “I can’t do that, not until I know about Rigel. Keep me informed about those warrior pups. Other than that, no interruptions.”

  He was three paces from LeaMarsa now. She finally turned. Her face appeared vacant, her mind distant.

  “You should leave this place,” he said, keeping his tone friendly.

  Even as he spoke, the pool’s mercurial surface began to change. Bubbles erupted from below, disturbing its mirror sheen. Ericho suspected that the final metamorphosis was at hand, the creature’s transformation into its ultimate phase.

  LeaMarsa stared blankly. If he was to succeed, he needed her emotionally engaged in the here and now. Ideally, that would best be accomplished away from the natatorium. But it seemed implausible she would leave willingly. Even if she wanted to, he was pretty sure the creature wouldn’t allow it.

  Time was running out. He was caught between two powerful forces, both with hostile intentions. In front of him, the creature would soon emerge from the pool, no doubt deadlier than ever. Behind him, an alerted Sentinel might decide at any moment that the captain was a menace to the ship and dispatch the warrior pups to eliminate the threat.

  More forceful tactics were necessary. He steeled himself for what he was about to do.

  Now or never.

  Lunging forward, he grabbed LeaMarsa’s wrist and squeezed hard. Inflicting pain was the fastest way to wrench a person back into the moment.

  The ploy worked. Her vacant expression dissolved into a stifled cry. He loosened his iron grip but didn’t let go of her.

  “Mitochondrials and superluminals. The way you reacted at the Homebound is what first made me suspicious about what you’ve been hiding from yourself.”

  She looked flustered. “What are you talking about? I’m not hiding anything.”

  Indignation colored her words, a volley of denial. Ericho pushed through her defenses.

  “You’re a genejob, LeaMarsa. Your parents created you as a science experiment. You were thirteen years old and at that boarding school when you found out. It made you angry as hell.”

  Her eyes widened, surprised that he could know such things. Her denial morphed into a counterstrike.

  “June had no right to tell you.”

  “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that according to the testimony of several of your classmates, you had a psychic blackout at school. You walked out of your room and froze.”

  “So?”

  “The Jamal Labs report indicates it was your first blackout. What I don’t understand is why you never questioned the two dates?”

  “What two dates?” Her tone was now feigned boredom.

  “It’s in your own school report, the one you wrote shortly after losing your parents. You mention how you accidentally discovered their genomic manipulation.
You dated that incident.” He paused to let his next words sink in. “It was the same day your parents died in the shuttle crash.”

  She frowned then violently shook her head.

  “No, those things happened weeks apart. Maybe months.”

  “That’s the lie you’ve been telling yourself all these years. The reality is, not only were they the same day but likely within minutes of one another.”

  Her face contorted into terror. Her eyes betrayed an even more haunting emotion, that of a child pleading to be spared from having to face an awful truth.

  “The Jamal researchers said you’re the most powerful psionic they ever studied, literally off the charts. And like many psionics, you remain unconscious of the extent of your powers.”

  “Stop it!” she cried, trying to break his grip by wrenching backward, as if to deliberately fall into the pool. He kept hold and yanked her away from the edge. The surface bubbled madly, a boiling cauldron of fracturing mirrors.

  Jonomy’s alarmed voice filled his helmet.

  “Captain, your assault on LeaMarsa has persuaded SEN that you indeed are a threat. Despite the illogic of it, the Sentinel somehow has become convinced that you intend harm to the ship.”

  The creature didn’t need to take control of the Sentinel, Ericho realized. The mystifying alterations to NEL proved that it was now capable of penetrating Level One with impudence. It had learned to feed false information to the Alchemon, outwit SEN, trick the ship’s ultimate protector into doing its bidding.

  “The warrior pups are being activated.”

  “How long do I have?”

  “Less than a minute.”

  “Let me go!” LeaMarsa hollered, trying to escape by twisting her arm.

  “Not until you face the truth.”

  “What truth!”

  “I scanned the report on the shuttle crash. The investigating team never pinpointed a reason the vessel went down. The engines simply exploded at a critical juncture during takeoff. They chalked it up to an accident of unknown causes.