Now, however, as he floated freely away, the rockets keeping him from tumbling, he couldn’t help but feel at peace. He knew he’d finally come to terms with what was about to happen. Maybe it was because he knew what was about to happen. Maybe it was some sort of genetic code that allowed a feeling of tranquility at such moments. Whatever it was, it made the final moments pass peacefully.
He looked down and saw Caliber sitting in orbit around Yadrin. God, she’s beautiful, he thought unabashedly. He watched the ship’s sleek outlines fill the curved view of his helmet visor. Much longer than Hancock by at least three hundred feet, she was 796 feet high at her most elevated position, atop the radio tower. Three powerful engines could thrust her forward at one-tenth of the speed of light in an emergency, though those same thrusters now lay silent.
A crew of one hundred-thirty kept her in tip-top condition. He looked to his left and tried to peer into the red haze of Yadrin. He was too far away to see the empty orbital module that floated in low orbit. He wanted to spend at least a few more minutes inside her, to experience the feeling of being so close to another planet, but he knew it was impossible. Caliber had pulled out of orbit right after discovery of the contamination, per NASA protocols.
“Captain Goto, Commander Saito, this is Gayorg Marsten, successfully detached from Caliber,” Gayorg reported, his voice on the verge of breaking. “Godspeed to all of you.”
An alarm went off inside his helmet and he glanced down at his wrist pad. There was a fantastic energy source behind him and he knew it was the rescue ship’s cannon. Figures, he muttered to himself. To save him the dread of knowing the end was about to come, the rescue ship was going to fire before he finished his last look.
So be it.
A massive beam of energy filled his visor and he closed his eyes. Pleasant memories of happier times with the crew filled his mind. Jokes, conversations, arguments, even getting dressed down a time or two by Saito, these all played out in his mind.
“This is Hancock. It’s done.”
Gayorg opened his eyes and sighed heavily. Caliber was nothing but a million shards of flaming debris that would eventually get caught up in the gravitational pull of Yadrin. No piece would be big enough to survive the intense friction of uncontrolled entry into the atmosphere.
If only, he thought. If. If. If. What was the saying? If “‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ were candy and nuts…”.
If the scientists hadn’t compromised the security of the orbital module by collecting dust from Yadrin’s atmosphere without the proper equipment…
If the crew hadn’t become lax and had done the required full scan of the science module before it returned aboard…
If Dr. Kamen and her staff had activated isolation procedures when the first crewmembers exhibited strange symptoms instead of treating the illness like the common cold…
If Marisa Soto hadn’t been so in love with one of the sick men that she abandoned Marsten on the EVA walk to go back inside the ship to check on him…
…then maybe they’d all be alive right now, enjoying one of Wooten’s fantastic meals.
But, there would be no more moments for the crew of Caliber. They’d slipped up and contaminated the entire ship with a Level Ten infection. Earth science had yet to come up with procedures to stop it. Thus, the only way to prevent spread of the infection was complete destruction of the infected subjects, be they individuals or entire ships.
“Mr. Marsten, this is Hancock,” the deep voice said into his radio. “Caliber reported that because you were outside of the ship when the infection came aboard that you weren’t infected. Computer tests confirm it, but regulations require us to isolate you in a reserve airlock until our own computers and doctors can clear you sir. I can’t imagine how much you’ve been through today, so I offer my sincerest condolences and my apology at having to quarantine you again.”
Gayorg barely heard any of the man’s words.
“Acknowledged, Hancock,” he answered, his voice choking up. “I’ll be here. With my memories.”
Debt to Society
“All rise. The Honorable Melvin Roy presiding.”
“You may be seated. Good morning, Joseph, how is my favorite bailiff today? Looks like it’s gonna' be a tough one today. Okay, what’s first on the docket?”
“First up on the docket, Your Honor, People versus Catherine Steelo, Mandel Oceanographic Institute, Andelbay Resorts and Amex Corporation. Depraved indifference, twelve counts.”
“Twelve counts, Joseph? Really? Okay, who’s here for the People? Miss Imesworth, is it, our newest assistant district attorney? And Mr. Ainsley, for the defense?”
“Your honor, the people request a high bail.”
“Ah, you picked up that tactic a lot quicker than your predecessor, Miss Imesworth.”
“Objection, your Honor. My clients are upstanding pillars of the community. Miss Steelo is one of the world’s most renowned marine biologists and works for the prestigious Mandel Oceanographic Institute. Andelbay Resorts has a first-class reputation and Amex is a Fortune 500 company. We request a release on personal recognizance.”
“So noted, Mr. Ainsley. I take it you have some objections, Miss Imesworth.”
“Your honor, the defendants are charged with twelve counts of depraved indifference. They are culpable in the deaths of seven people and the maiming of five more.”
“Whoa, those are some serious allegations, Miss Imesworth. What exactly are they alleged to have done?”
“They forgot to tell beach-goers about the supposedly extinct Megalodon that had set up camp in the area.”
“What, pray tell, is a Megalodon, Miss Imesworth?”
“Ancestor to the Great White Shark, your Honor. It’s about seventy-five feet long. They knew it was in the area, but still sent a yacht full of investors out into the middle of its feeding ground. Miss Steelo and Mandel wanted the publicity of being the first to find a Megalodon. Andelbay and Amex were in the midst of a buyout and wanted to appease stockholders.”
“Your Honor, Miss Imesworth is exaggerating. The shark can grow up to seventy-five feet. That doesn’t mean it was seventy-five feet.”
“Thank you for killing your case, Counselor. I’ll take it that they’re all pleading guilty, based on what you just said?”
“We plead not guilty, Your Honor. To all counts. In fact, Your Honor, we move for dismissal of all charges.”
“Oh, really? On what grounds?”
“My clients were acting in the best interests of the public, Your Honor. This case is unprecedented.”
“Au contraire, Mr. Ainsley. People v. Town of Friendship. The mayor was successfully indicted and tried for depraved indifference for allowing the island’s beaches to remain open despite the presence of a twenty-five foot Great White that had already killed several people. The town itself was tried for depraved indifference because they didn’t want to lose summer dollars.”
“Well, thank you, Miss Imesworth, for that information and for bringing some culture to these proceedings with that smattering of French. But, this is not the time or place to try the case. Mr. Ainsley, your request for dismissal is subsequently denied. Bail is set for one million dollars for Miss Steelo and five million for the others.”
“Your Honor, that is outrageous. My clients—“
“Your clients can take it or leave it, Mr. Ainsley. At least it should keep them away from the water. Next, Joseph.”
“Next up, Your Honor, People versus the Port Authority. Gross negligence and dereliction of duty.”
“Thank you, Joseph. So, Mr. Dwight, we have the Port Authority before us again. What is the plea this time?”
“Not guilty, Your Honor.”
“Of course. What’s the bail request, Miss Imesworth?”
“We’d normally request remand, Your Honor, but we’re willing to let them go on personal recognizance.”
“That’s a shock. Does your boss know about this?”
“Well, sir, the defendants ar
e so well known in the community, we think we’ll have little trouble keeping tabs on them.”
“Your Honor?”
“Yes, Mr. Dwight?”
“We move to have the charges dismissed.”
“Oh, really? Are you and Mr. Ainsley reading the same book? Dismissal, on what grounds?”
“National Security, Your Honor.”
“Your Honor, they conveniently forgot to mention to a thousand dockworkers that a prehistoric monster, recently awakened from hibernation by atomic testing, was swimming around next to their docks. I don’t see how that would fit under ‘national security’?”
“Miss Imesworth is exaggerating, Your Honor. The Port Authority has a responsibility for not just dockworkers, but everyone in the city. We couldn’t risk a citywide panic.”
“Even though not telling anyone ended up causing a citywide panic, anyway? As I recall, Mr. Dwight, the same thing happened with that giant octopus in London, too. Just be thankful this beast wasn’t radioactive like that one.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
“That’s quite okay, Miss Imesworth. Defendants are free to go. Please be back next Tuesday to set a trial date. Say, is it me, Joseph, or is the courthouse unusually crowded today?”
“It’s crowded, sir. Everybody’s docket is full.”
“Hmm, guess my lunch date with Judge Horvath is out.”
“Judge Horvath is trying child custody cases today, sir, to see if the parents are fit to raise their children.”
“We see those cases everyday. What’s so different about today?”
“These are the bratty kids, Your Honor. One defied his grandmother and hitched a ride down into a subterranean cavern. Almost got the explorers killed by giant scorpions. Another is that girl who fiddled with the thermostat so that her pet rabbit wouldn’t freeze. She ended up getting all the test animals in the lab eaten by a prehistoric mollusk that had been kept in hibernation in a pool of cold water.”
“Ooh, sounds brutal, but no one got killed, did they?”
“Well, not with those two, Your Honor, but the third kid, well, she’s a doozy. Sweet kid, but devious. She did the old switcheroo. Didn’t want her parents to continue testing a serum on a rabbit she liked, so she substituted a normal rabbit and took the test animal out into the countryside where, of course, it got loose.”
“Oh, I remember her. Led to a horde of giant man-eating bunny rabbits. I wonder if those poor people they recruited from the drive-in to help corner the rabbits ever got over the horror of seeing them shot and electrocuted on those railroad tracks. Well, that’s another court. I wonder if I can do lunch with Judge Wapple?”
“Sorry, Your Honor, she’s got some civil cases that should fill her entire day.”
“Really? What kind of cases?”
“Trademark desecration, sir. You know, taking a good idea and totally massacring it. Her first one is a hoot. Seems someone took an idea from the Japanese and turned it into a hundred million-plus dollar dud. Took a slow, lumbering, fire-breathing giant and turned it into some quick-footed iguana that was halfway to the video store by the end of the first month.”
“Oh, that’s no biggie, Joseph. We’ve been doing that to Japanese films for decades. Although, I thought we’d moved away from big monsters and onto horror. Okay, let’s stop wasting time. What’s next on the docket?”
“The People versus The Department of Homeland Security and The Department of Defense.”
“What?”
“The People versus The Department…”
“Yes, yes, Joseph, I heard you. What’s going on here? I don’t think this court is appropriate for a case of this magnitude. What’s it about?”
“Harassment, attempted murder, murder and manslaughter on way too many counts.”
“Care to elaborate further, Miss Imesworth? You realize that we’re talking about the very people who protect us from the bad guys, you know.”
“The People understand that, Your Honor. But, it’s the job of Homeland Security to protect us from enemies, foreign and domestic.”
“What do you have to say about this, Ms. Fulton? I believe you’re from the U.S. Attorney General’s office? Aren’t we at cross purposes here?”
“That is correct, Your Honor. What Miss Imesworth and the local DA are charging my clients – a.k.a. the U.S. Government – with is political grandstanding. My clients were protecting the public from insidious and hideous threats, such as gun-toting fanatics who stalked and stabbed numerous people to death, burned others alive, cut the throats of more people and burned a lot with acid.”
“Your Honor, the so-called fanatics Ms. Fulton is referring to are vampire hunters. The bloodsuckers they killed drank the blood of more than two thousand innocent people over the past ten years alone, but, nothing was done about them. Uh, Your Honor, are you okay?”
“Hmm, oh, yes. Nothing wrong, Miss Imesworth. I was just musing about lawyers fighting over bloodsuckers. Sort of a professional discourtesy. Ahem, sorry, bad lawyer joke. Please, go on, Miss Imesworth.”
“That’s not all, Your Honor. We have case files, going back years, of the military interfering with honest, law-abiding citizens who try to stop threats to society. For instance, government agents shot two scientists to death to protect a program that produced mutated barracuda for clandestine missions, even though the barracuda killed a number of innocent civilians. Another time, the military intervened when ordinary citizens tried to save river rafters from carnivorous South American fish. Then, there are all those times an unsuspecting populace fell victim to giant ants, scorpions, mollusks, monoliths, grasshoppers, bees and other dangers because of the government's ‘we don't want a panic’ defense. The list is endless.”
“Oh, that’s rich, Miss Fulton. If we’re going to do that, why don’t we prosecute all the stupid people in the world? You know, the kids who go partying at abandoned summer camps even though all the previous campers got slaughtered by a machete-wielding maniac. Or the people who don’t want to turn the lights on in dark rooms or don’t use flashlights or just plain don’t think to call the police when they hear something upstairs. Or corrupt politicians who store hazardous waste under the city. Or the local authorities who ignore repeated warnings about monstrosities that then end up killing people who might otherwise have been warned and then threaten the press members who expose the truth. The list is, indeed, endless and hindsight is always twenty-twenty, Your Honor.”
“And it will always be twenty-twenty, Miss Fulton, until we start making people accountable. Your Honor, we have to make people think beforehand so we don’t have to place blame afterwards.”
“You’d be fighting a losing battle, Miss Imesworth. Say, Joseph, just how backed up is the docket today?”
“A full schedule, but, sadly, nothing really blockbuster. Most of the cases are so common now, it’s rather pedestrian.”
“Okay, then. I think I need a break. Miss Imesworth, Miss Fulton, in my chambers, please. Thank goodness for the court system. There’s at least one place around here where common sense prevails.”
“Your Honor, do you want me to check the status of that case we talked about earlier?”
“Hold on, ladies. Which case was that, Joseph?”
“The one with all those jury members who are being stalked and decapitated. I think they were from one of the cases the newspaper interviewed you about last month. Although it's a bit late, I think detectives are going to warn the three remaining jurors – a very nubile blond, a brunette smoldering with repressed sexuality beneath her glasses and pinned-up hair and a spinster librarian.
“They might use one of them as bait for the killer, but I can’t guess which. The other two should be well-protected, though. All of the detectives have volunteered to watch over them, even that single one who hasn’t been with a woman since that painful divorce three years ago. If the killer goes for the bait, they’ll be ready, unless something distracts them.”
“That was the Mad Dog M
cGurk case, wasn’t it, Joseph? Why wasn’t I notified of that? Any suspects, yet?”
“Not really, Judge. They thought it might be McGurk, but he died in prison after volunteering for some weird experiment. The warden apologized for not telling anyone. Said it was an administrative error. Some heads are gonna’ roll on that one, sir. No pun intended, of course.”
“Ah, yes, thank you, Joseph. Keep up with that, will you? I’ll be in my chambers. On second thought, Joseph, could you do me a big favor and go into my office first? And please turn on the lights.”
Eugene Nix
“You know, sir, that there are many who oppose your research,’’ the gray-haired television commentator said. “Especially in the religious community. They say it’s heresy, what you’re doing.’’
If the words bothered Eugene Nix, he did not show it. Instead, he fingered his bushy mustache, as if in the middle of some great thought. All the while, he eyed the commentator and the cameramen surrounding them on the set in the studio. Indeed, his mind seemed to dwell more on how the small set seemed intimate despite the vastness of the surrounding sound stage than it did towards the commentator’s question.
“What is the saying, sir, that one can do all things through Christ?’’ Nix finally replied, with a wisp of a smile. “Are not a surgeon’s hands guided by a higher power during a difficult operation? Do not planes take off from the ground by the hundreds or thousands every day, borne aloft by the winds provided by the wings of angels?”
“So, you’re saying that you are just doing the work of God, not playing the Almighty?’’ the commentator followed.
“I’m just a man, sir,’’ Nix replied, coolly, avoiding the trap shrewdly set for him. “Just a man.”
“Which brings me to my next point,’’ the interviewer continued, unfazed by Nix’s avoidance of his last question. “You were born with Attention Deficit Disorder and, in recent years, you’ve had arthritis so painful, you’ve found it difficult to work on very cold days. So, you would agree that those factors helped make you the man that you are today. Shouldn’t children have the same chance?”
Dark Tidings: Volumes I & II Page 2
