Test Subjects

by R S Penney

  Clasping her hands together behind herself, Anna strode toward the other woman with her head down. “There's no sign of where they might have taken Jack,” she added. “At this point, I'd have to go to the Oniara System to learn more.”

  Unfortunately, Larani had decided that she wasn't fit to carry out that duty, and the frustration Anna felt at being trapped here wasn't doing anything to help matters. An urge to snap at anyone who crossed her path only served to validate Larani's decision, and to make matters worse, that feeling of being a caged lioness yearning to go on the hunt was contrasted by moments of an almost eerie calm.

  Seth was worried about her; Anna could feel it when the Nassai started fretting about her emotional state. On several occasions over the last twenty-four hours, he had tried to soothe her. For some reason, he seemed to think she should trust the instinct that said Jack was alive. Maybe he was just humoring her. It was downright unfair that Seth had access to every thought in her head while she had to guess at his.

  Cassiara studied her for a brief moment, then nodded slowly. “I'd like to help if I can,” she said. “Maybe review the sensor data.”

  “I'd appreciate that,” Anna said softly. “Right now, I have to see Larani and calmly ask for permission to take a shuttle out.”

  Without another word, Anna flowed around the other woman and stepped into the gray-walled hallway outside her office. One way or another, she was going to the Oniara System and finding out what had happened to Jack. If that ship took him halfway across the galaxy, she would track it down and bring him home. She had faced bigger challenges than this.

  It wasn't very long before Cassi fell in step beside her. The woman had one of those expressions you saw on the parents of teenagers who were about to do something stupid. “You understand the odds of finding anything are astronomically low. Ships don't leave a lingering trail when they go to warp.”

  Anna rounded on her, stepping forward with a face like a raging thunderstorm. “So, what would you do?” she asked, her eyebrows climbing. “If it were someone you loved? Would you sit here and wait, or would you try?”

  By the time she had finished her rant, Cassi was pressed to the corridor wall and looking very uneasy. “I suppose I'd do exactly what you're doing,” she said. “But I think it's important to be realistic.”

  “I understand.”

  The walk to Larani's office took less than two minutes, and she found the head of the Justice Keepers seated on a couch with a SmartGlass tablet in hand, scanning through its contents. Outside, a light rain pattered against the windows with droplets that left thin streaks on the glass.

  To her surprise, Cassiara followed her in.

  With a click of her tongue, Larani stood up and faced them. She moved gracefully, but her face was haggard, dark circles visible under her eyes. “Operative Lenai,” she said. “I take it this is about Agent Hunter?”

  “Actually, I came to apologize.”

  Larani blinked in surprise, then shook her head as if to clear away the fog. “I see,” she mumbled. “Think nothing of it, Anna. We all make similar mistakes when put under such stress.”

  Anna stood before her with arms crossed, unable to bring herself to look up. “Well, be that as it may,” she began. “I'm still a Justice Keeper. There is a standard of behaviour to which I should hold myself.”

  The other woman spared a glance for Cassi, then returned her attention to Anna. “I assume this is more than an act of contrition,” she murmured. “You still want to go after Jack, don't you?”

  “I do.”

  It was almost heartbreaking to watch Larani flinch and then steel herself for what she clearly didn't want to say. “Anna, I want to find him as much as you do. But sending one shuttle against a battlecruiser with that kind of firepower…Jack didn't make out very well. What makes you think you'll do better?”

  Now, there was an angle she hadn't considered very deeply. Oh, the thought of what she might do if she found herself in Jack's situation had crossed her mind, but she filed it away under “solve that problem when it presents itself.” The words she couldn't articulate – because they sounded stupid every time she spoke them out loud – were that it didn't matter if it was hopeless. She had to go anyway. Seth was apprehensive, but he loved her for wanting to try.

  “Is it possible to send more than one shuttle?” Cassi suggested. “Perhaps a small squadron of them?” Anna didn't bother pointing out that even six or seven shuttles would be no match for a warship like that. What they needed…What they needed was military muscle. But could they spare such resources to search for one Justice Keeper?

  Try as she might, Anna couldn't bring herself to ask for that kind of help. She loved Jack, and she would go after him alone if it came down to it. But the Space Corps had to make protecting Leyria its first priority.

  A heavy sigh betrayed Larani's frustration. The woman turned her back and paced into the middle of the room. “Computer,” she said. “Re-connect to the LMS Endeavour.”

  A hologram rippled and solidified: the image of a tall, broad-shouldered man in a sleek black uniform. His square face was marked by a neatly-trimmed beard and his thick blonde hair had more than a few flecks of gray. “I take it you spoke to your officer,” he said. “Is she willing to go on the mission.”

  “I doubt she'll object,” Larani replied. She stepped aside, gesturing to Anna. “This is Operative Lenai.”

  Anna stepped forward.

  The transparent man frowned at her but nodded as if she were exactly what he had expected. “I'm Captain Morris Desarin,” he said. “I'm sorry to hear about your partner. If he's still alive, we'll get him back.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Be on board the Endeavour at twelve hundred hours,” he added. By Leyrian time measurements, that was early evening. The date changed at an hour just before dawn on the equinox. “We're going to investigate what happened in the Oniara System.”

  Larani stepped forward with that formal posture that she liked so much, shoulders square, hands folded neatly behind herself. “Thank you, Morris,” she began. “And you may consider that favour you owe me to be paid in full.”

  The man replied with a fond smile and a rich belly laugh. “Larani,” he said. “For you, I'll do as many favours as you like.”

  Anna breathed a sigh of relief.

  Companion be praised, she was going after Jack.

  Number-2 opened his eyes, deep blue eyes that stared drunkenly up at the ceiling. The man was stretched out on the floor, his head propped up on the armoured vest that Jack had removed from his body. He groaned.

  Down on one knee next to his “patient,” Jack frowned but nodded. “Good,” he said. “Nice to see you're getting better.”

  Number-2 tried to sit up.

  Jack's hand on his chest kept the man down, and the pain of his wounds overrode his terror at waking up to find an enemy tending him. Number-2 relented and flopped back down on the floor. In what he hoped was a gesture of good will, Jack offered one of the water bottles his captors had thrown into the cell.

  The other man stared up at him with an open mouth, then eyed the bottle as if he thought it might be full of poison. Finally, he snatched the thing out of Jack's hand and downed half its contents.

  Jack shut his eyes tight, touching two fingers to his forehead. “I can see that this is going to be a slow process.” He stood up with a grunt and made his way over to his other patient. “You just think on your situation.”

  Number-1 was also stretched out on the floor and using his own vest as a pillow. This one had his head turned slightly, his eyes closed as if in a deep, peaceful sleep. His breathing was shallow, however.

  Jack squatted next to him with arms folded across his knees, shaking his head. “So, I do have to wonder,” he began in exasperated tones. “What did your bosses hope to gain by sending you in here?”

  The answer had come to him earlier. Really, it was quite obvious after a moment's thought: they were testing his abilities. T
hat came with some unfortunate implications, not the least of which was the possibility that these people were preparing for war.

  Number-1 stirred, his eyes fluttering open, and when he saw Jack, he squeaked and scrambled away across the floor. The man reached for the weapons that should have been on his belt. Of course, Jack had removed them. When that failed, Number-1 moaned.

  Jack stood up with his hands raised defensively, backing away from the other man. “Not looking for another fight,” he insisted. “Let's just try to do this all peaceable-like. If you stay calm, I'll stay calm.”

  He went for the metal plate of food that his captors had offered about ten minutes ago. Carrots with roast potatoes and a bit of chicken breast. So far, he hadn't touched any of it, and not for political reasons. Sharing meals with Anna had changed his palette; he had been doing the vegetarian thing lately. But a prisoner who refused to eat didn't get fed, and he wasn't quite ready to Temple of the Dog his way through this. Not yet, anyway.

  He was saving the meal, hoping that a little generosity might build some bridges. It had shocked him when the door had opened just long enough for a man in a gray uniform to slide the plate across the floor and follow that up with a couple water bottles. Jack had been certain that his captors would send in a team to retrieve their fallen men, but they seemed to be uninterested in that. Maybe they were worried about what a Keeper might do when confronted with more armed guards.

  Well, good!

  Let them worry. Let them think of him as a caged animal that would bite if poked too hard. That might discourage any future attempts to test the limits of his abilities. For a little while, at least.

  Kneeling on the floor, Jack picked up the plate and extended his arm, offering it to his patient. “Want some?” he asked.

  Number-1 eyed him warily.

  “You guys have been in here for over two hours,” Jack explained. “It doesn't look like they're planning to let you out. Maybe food is good, yes?”

  The other man made a disgusted face, but his protests were quashed by hunger. He stood up on shaky legs, hobbled over and took the plate. A moment later, he was stuffing carrots in his mouth with his bare hands.

  Breathing out a sigh of relief, Jack lowered his eyes. “Glad you like it.” He turned away from the other man and paced across the room. There had been a second reason for his hesitation to touch the food himself; there was always a chance, however small, that it had been poisoned.

  Jack regretted the necessity of using these men as guinea pigs, but he was altruistic, not stupid. He tried to tell himself that if the food was tainted, it wasn't his fault. After all, he wasn't the one who prepared it. That did very little to soothe his guilt.

  Maybe there was nothing to be guilty about; maybe the food was fine. Number-1's willingness to gobble it up was a good sign. Or was it? Would these people actually tell their security staff if they planned to poison a prisoner?

  Jack turned back to them.

  Number-1 was leaning against the wall with the plate in one hand, licking the spice-encrusted fingers of the other. Those roast potatoes did smell good. Number-2 was still on his back, but the man was drumming fingers on the floor. At least he was awake.

  “Okay!” Jack said.

  Number-1 looked at him.

  Tapping his chest with one hand, Jack strode forward. “Jack,” he said. “My name is Jack. And you are?”

  The other man squinted at him, as if unsure of what he was hearing. God damn it, this would be easier if they spoke the same language. Once again, Jack thumped a hand against his chest. “Jack,” he said.

  When the other man was silent, Jack pointed at him and waited for some kind of response. It was a long time coming. Number-1 seemed to be considering his options. Finally, he said, “Edan.”

  With a winning smile, Jack offered a shallow bow, more a tip of the head, really. “Good!” he exclaimed. “Nice to meet you! Are you enjoying the food? I sure hope so. If the ship's cook is no good, well…Crews have mutinied for less.”

  Too many words; Edan was clearly overwhelmed. Now was not the time to employ his gift of the gab. Go slow, Jack told himself. Just take it one step at a time. He pointed to the man who was still on the floor.

  “Novol,” Edan said. For a brief moment, he seemed very interested in the cache of weapons Jack had piled up in the corner. Tend a man's wounds and fill his belly, and this was how he repaid you.

  Jack felt creases line his brow, then shook his head slowly. “You don't want to do that,” he cautioned. “We're all friends here. Let's keep it nice and civil, eh?”

  The other man deflated, his head dropping as he reached up to run a hand through his dark, reddish curls. “Niskak Telavor,” he said in his own language. That was followed by what seemed to be a string of curses.

  With careful, deliberate steps, Jack approached him and reached for the plate. Edan relinquished it without protest. Less than half the food remained, but there was more than enough for both men to have their share.

  Jack did not need spatial awareness to feel Edan's eyes on his back. He ignored it, knelt down beside Novol and offered him the remainder of his meal.

  Novol sat up and met Jack's gaze with bleary eyes. He blinked once, groaned and took the plate with a nod of thanks. It was clear that he had not expected such kindness from a prisoner.

  “Okay,” Jack said. “Glad we're getting to know one another.”

  When the double doors slid apart, allowing Telixa into the observation room, she saw Lieutenant Valesk standing by the tinted window with one hand gripping the other wrist behind her back. The young woman's posture was relaxed. She seemed to be mildly intrigued by what she saw.

  “I received your report, Lieutenant,” Telixa said, stepping up beside her. “Do you mean to tell me that the Justice Keeper didn't eat any of his meal?”

  Velask glanced in her direction, and her brows knitted together before she returned her attention to the window. “He gave it to Raan and Voharin,” she said. “They're down there right now; Raan is finishing up the last of it.”

  When Telixa peered through the window, she found the Justice Keeper on his knees beside young Novol Raan, who was sitting up with some difficulty. Her officer used his teeth to rip apart the small piece of chicken they had provided.

  Shutting her mouth with a click, Telixa felt her eyebrows climb slowly upward. “Interesting,” she murmured. “Perhaps he thought the meal was poisoned?”

  “Then why not eat the rest after Voharin proved that it was safe?”

  The question was irritating but a good one, nonetheless. Telixa bit back the rebuke that came to mind. Chastising a subordinate for keen observations only led to a crew that was afraid to question their captain when she made a legitimate error in judgment. “And he tended their wounds?”

  Stepping back from the window with arms crossed, Velask nodded in response. “As best he could,” she said. “There wasn't much he could do besides make them comfortable and keep watch, but he did it.”

  Without warning, Valesk rounded on her, lifted her chin and offered what might be called a challenging stare. “I would have expected the Justice Keeper to kill both men,” she added. “Why would he help his captors?”

  “Why indeed?” A thought occurred to her, and she was suddenly confronted with a very uncomfortable answer to that question. “Get them out of there! Now!”

  “But you said-”

  “Forget what I said,” Telixa snarled. “Get them out of there! Try to avoid killing the Justice Keeper, but do whatever you have to do to get them out.”

  Jack was down on one knee next to Novol, smiling as he shook his head. “Glad to see you enjoyed it,” he said, setting the empty plate aside. “Now, let's see if we can get to know one another.”

  Novol was lying on his back with hands folded over his chest, his head propped up on his own armoured vest. “Vaga nook,” he said, blinking. “Jagava, notayga skiri isin do dera.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said. “About that-”
>
  There was a hissing sound as the cell door slid open to reveal three men in heavy armour standing side by side in the corridor outside. Each one carried an assault rifle and shielded his face behind the visor of a dark helmet.

  Jack was on his feet in a second, a Time Bubble forming around himself and Novol, who flinched at the sudden visual distortion that blurred everything around them. No time to worry about the wounded man. Jack could feel Summer's power coursing through his body. He hopped over Novol.

  In the instant that he landed on the other side, he let the bubble vanish and replaced it with another in the shape of a long tube that stretched toward the three men. Jack saw them as blurry figures, each one frozen halfway through the motion of lifting his rifle.

  His tube only covered part of the distance, but that would have to do. Making two Bendings in quick succession was hard on Summer. Attempting a third wouldn't be wise.

  He had planned for this moment; many times, he had considered going for the pile of weapons, but he did not know how to disarm the safety on those pistols. He could have figured it out with a little fiddling, but he hadn't tried. If his captors saw him playing with the guns, well…That would have only hastened this confrontation.

  Jack ran through the tube.

  As he neared the end, he let the Bubble collapse and leaped, flipping through the air. He uncurled and dropped feet-first toward the two left-most men, planting a shoe in each man's chest.

  They toppled over backward, and Jack landed on top of them, rounding on the third man. Number-3, a tall guy with broad shoulders, shouted in his native language and tried to swing his rifle around for a point-blank shot.

  Jack kicked the weapon out of his hands, then spun and back-kicked, driving a foot into the man's belly, pinning him hard against the door-frame. Air rushed from the man's mouth, fogging up his visor.

  Ignoring him, Jack stepped into the corridor to find another half dozen armoured men barring his path. These six had their rifles trained on him, laser sights painting red dots on Jack's shirt.