Biozi troopers counter-charged. Plasma bolts slashed through the smoke. One of the marines stayed behind and deployed his blaster-resistant shield to protect Talia.
Riley dashed from one firing position to the next, delivering short, deadly bursts with her carbine.
A trooper pounced on her. Two biosynthetic tails aimed their venomous stingers at her head. The Taar’kuun didn’t have naturally growing tails, but some elite units had biosynthetic appendages grafted onto their spine. Those tails made them particularly lethal in close-quarters fights.
The bright line of a plasma dagger flashed in the semi-darkness. Riley plunged the fiery blade into the trooper’s biosuit. He jumped away from her with a shriek, but the marines didn’t give him a chance to bolt. His head exploded, splashing the walls with purple bits of bone and brain.
Talia felt nauseous at this sight, but gathered her courage and moved forward. She still had no idea what was going on and why Riley had taken her for the ride.
The Biozi counterattack repelled, the marines rushed forward again. More rattling from blasters, more screeches from the dying crew.
“Target in sight,” Riley reported. “Dr. Galen, proceed to my location.”
A golden icon lit up on the HUD of Talia’s visor. A green arrow indicated that the route to the target had been secured. She stepped over the corpses of Biozi troopers, trying not to look at their burned and dismembered bodies.
The arrows on her HUD led her to a control room. All the Biozi had been slaughtered, except one who was still standing, his tail fused with the ship’s flesh. Riley and two marines were holding the survivor at gunpoint.
“Fire, and the ship blows to atoms,” the Biozi hissed. He’d set up the Taar’kuun equivalent of the dead man’s switch. If his heart stopped, the ship would self-destruct.
There was a flash of blue light as Riley shot the Biozi in stun mode. He collapsed on the ground, electric arcs dancing around the burn in his biosuit.
“Your show now, Dr. Galen,” Riley said.
Talia understood what she had to do. She pulled a surgical kit out of her backpack and set to work. She recorded the Biozi’s vital signs with a medical scanner, cut his biosuit with a laser scalpel, and injected him with a neural inhibitor using a transdermal syringe.
Then she connected the scanner to his tail and severed the tail from the body with her scalpel. The goal was to spoof the ship into thinking that the tail was still connected to the Biozi’s body, while all it was reading was the recording of his vital signs transmitted by the medical scanner.
Two marines grabbed the Biozi’s inert body and dragged it to the nearest airlock. They opened the doors and put him on the dropship docked to it.
“Everyone to the dropship,” Riley called.
Talia followed the marines. Once on the dropship, they put the prisoner into a stasis pod. The dropship disengaged and raced back to the Remembrance. When they were at a safe distance, Riley told Talia to deactivate remotely the medical scanner connected to the Biozi’s tail.
A few seconds later, the enemy destroyer disappeared in a blast.
“Nicely done,” Riley complimented Talia. “That was a hell of a high-risk op.”
“You could’ve briefed me,” Talia said with a tinge of reproach in her tone.
“Sorry, this op was time sensitive. We couldn’t afford to waste time on a briefing.”
“Now that it’s over, you could explain to me what just happened. Did you use a civilian ship as bait to lure the Biozi destroyer into a trap?”
“We were ordered to rendezvous with your Astacus to provide escort, but we picked up the bioship following you on long-range sensors. The captain decided to shadow the Biozi destroyer, while remaining cloaked. As soon as it started shooting, we engaged and disabled it. You know the rest.”
Talia shook her head. “Not exactly. You’re not telling me everything. Who’s this Biozi, and why did we just risk our lives to capture him?”
Riley took off her helmet and gave Talia a sharp look. “He used to be a double agent. You knew him.”
“Jon!” Talia breathed.
“Now you can ask him why he left you and your sister in the company of an antimatter nuke. And our intelligence services have questions for him too.”
11
Survival strategy
When Talia saw the fleet of civilian ships gathered around a tunneler, the scale of the disaster that had befallen the Alliance hit her with full force.
“A hundred thousand souls,” Clio breathed. “All that remains of the Alliance.”
Talia gasped, holding back tears. “What happened to our worlds?”
“We don’t know for sure, but we received reports of orbital bombardment. Antimatter nukes. The capital’s been annihilated.”
Both sisters stood in silence for a moment. No words could express their pain. Their entire civilization had been destroyed, and humanity was once again at the brink of extinction.
“Who’s in charge now?” Talia asked.
“The president died when the Biozi destroyed ASF One. The vice president was killed when they nuked the capital. DeCourt is the next in line. He survived as he was inspecting a remote space station when the attack started. He’s acting president now, and he’s trying to reestablish a government and some sort of administration. Winsley is Secretary of Defense and Head of the ASF.”
“What about Adr…” Talia paused and cleared her throat. “I mean, what about Dr. Darus?”
“He’s alive, on board the Defiance. It’s the ASF flagship now. DeCourt still hasn’t decided what to do with him. Some blame Darus for everything that happened, others still hope he’ll come up with some miracle weapon that will save us all.”
“What happened to you, Clio?”
“I was in a spacecraft accident. Ironically, that accident saved my life. I was transported to a space station where the doctors patched me up. I was still there, recovering from surgery, when the Biozi armada jumped in. I was evacuated with the other patients, and our ship joined a convoy of refugees from Vega. The Remembrance was part of the ASF fleet escorting us. Captain Hunt found out I was on one of the civilian ships and offered me a job, as he needed a medic.”
Talia heard steps behind her.
“Dr. Galen, the president has requested a meeting in his office,” an ASF officer said. “Please follow me.”
She said goodbye to her sister and followed the officer. A shuttle transported her from the Remembrance to the Capitol, a Hera-class liner where DeCourt had established his office. The 1.5-klick-long liner was the biggest ship in the Alliance’s dwindling fleet. Its elegant ovoid shape contrasted with the sharp angles of the military ships that escorted it.
As the lights of the Capitol drew closer, Talia wondered what DeCourt wanted from her, and whether this had anything to do with Adrian.
The shuttle docked. Two ASF marines welcomed Talia and escorted her through impeccably clean corridors. Despite everything, the authorities still maintained a certain level of decorum.
The president’s office was in a luxury suite. Talia couldn’t help but smile when she saw the inscription “Just married!” engraved next to the entrance door. In the confusion that followed the evacuation of Vega-IV, no one had time to change it to a more appropriate “President of the Alliance.”
Short, bald, with a square face and a neatly trimmed gray beard, DeCourt wore a stylish brown suit and tie. Only Alliance politicians and overpaid lawyers sported such get-ups inspired by the fashion of twentieth-century Earth.
“Dr. Galen, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” DeCourt said, shaking her hand. “Please take a seat.” He gestured to a chair made of a good imitation leather.
Talia obeyed. “Mr. president, how can I be of assistance?”
“Doctor, I won’t sugarcoat it for you—the situation is bad, to put it mildly.” DeCourt dropped into his seat and stared at her. “You do understand what my administration is trying to achieve, and what the stakes are.”
“The Alliance government always knew a full-scale invasion by the TGS was a possibility, so we had a contingency plan. Three years ago, our scouts discovered a small star cluster unknown to the Taar’kuun. This cluster contains a stellar system with an Earth-like world we call Neo. Living conditions on this world are harsh, but our population could survive there.”
“You plan to settle this planet?”
“That’s my plan, yes. However, there is a…complication. Admiral Winsley, my Secretary of Defense, doesn’t share my opinion.”
“He wants to keep on fighting and try to liberate our worlds, hoping there are still human survivors there,” Talia guessed.
DeCourt nodded, leaned back in his seat, and set his hands on the armrests. “I see that I made an excellent decision by choosing you, Dr. Galen. You’re not only perceptive; I imagine you’re also a good judge of character. Indeed, the admiral refuses to give up the fight and retreat into uncharted space. I admire his fighting spirit, but I believe he’s in denial.”
“Wait a minute, sir,” Talia said with a frown. “You chose me? For what?”
“Ah, I didn’t tell you, true, but you must have an idea. I want you to be my Chief Medical Officer.”
She gave him a bemused stare. “Chief Medical Officer? I’m honored, but with all due respect, I’m sure there are more experienced physicians in the fleet.”
“It’s not about experience or seniority. I want someone I can trust, and someone who would be popular with my constituents.”
Talia opened her mouth, but didn’t know what to say. Despite the apocalypse they’d just survived, DeCourt was still thinking about politics and worried about his popularity.
“I read your dossier and I admire you as a medical professional and an exemplary ASF officer,” DeCourt said. “Your role during the capture of a valuable intelligence asset was noted. Winsley will surely give you a medal for that. However, I’m not promoting you because of your competence as a physician or an officer. I want you on my team because of your personal qualities. You walked into my office with a smile. Mankind is facing extinction, and you’re still smiling! I want my people to see that charming smile of yours. It’s good for morale.”
“To put it bluntly, you want me on your team because you need a pretty face?”
DeCourt shrugged, his piercing gaze glued to Talia’s eyes. “All right, I won’t insult your intelligence. Yes, I need likable faces in my administration, but I know this pretty face comes with an intellect, and I respect that.”
“What do you intend to do with Dr. Darus?”
“You know him better than I do; what would you advise?”
Talia tensed, sensing a trap. By promoting her to CMO, DeCourt was jumping over Winsley’s head, which was his way of showing who was in charge. He would also use her sympathy for Adrian to control her, and probably turn her against Winsley.
“I don’t know Dr. Darus that well,” she replied with caution.
“I watched the feed from a security cam two years ago, when you said goodbye to Dr. Darus at the Vega-IV spaceport. I also know what you talked about; reading lips is easy. You disapprove of what I did to him. You think I strong-armed him into creating a bioweapon and forced him to betray his ethical principles. You’re not wrong, but please understand—I did that to protect the future of the entire human civilization. The self-respect of a single scientist wasn’t such a high price for the survival of an entire species. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Talia averted her eyes. She felt naked, transparent, as if DeCourt could see through her and read her every thought and emotion.
“I don’t know what to think,” she confessed. “All I know is that Dr. Darus is not a traitor. You put him in an impossible position, and he followed the voice of his conscience.”
DeCourt leaned forward, set his elbows on his desk, and steepled his fingers, his hands forming a vaguely pyramidal shape. “I will grant him amnesty. I will also make him my personal scientific adviser. On one condition—you take my job offer, and you take it now. You walk out of my office as the new CMO, or the deal is off.”
* * *
President DeCourt conveyed the first meeting of his new cabinet on the same day. Talia, Adrian, Winsley, and eight other secretaries and advisers were present. Although there were twelve people in the room, they didn’t sit at a round table. DeCourt was positioned at one end of a rectangular table and Winsley at the other.
The agenda sported only two topics: introductions and what the president called “survival strategy.” The introductions took five minutes; the next topic took over three hours.
Oh, God. We’re helplessly deadlocked, Talia thought, rising from her seat when the meeting was adjourned. Both DeCourt and Winsley had come prepared; they’d laid out their arguments and defended them with skill, eloquence, and persistence. In a nutshell, DeCourt considered that the war was lost, while Winsley believed the ASF ought to keep fighting.
“May I suggest a compromise,” Adrian said to DeCourt after the meeting. Talia overheard their conversation as she was still in the room, packing her portable cyber-terminal. She knew Adrian held a grudge against DeCourt, but his tone didn’t give away any hostility.
“That’s your job, Dr. Darus,” DeCourt replied.
“What we need is to get our civilian population to safety and set up a mining and manufacturing infrastructure. The main fleet will protect the civilian ships as they journey to Neo. In the meantime, small and highly mobile ASF battlegroups will harass the enemy, as we did during the first years of the war.”
“If you manage to convince Winsley, I’m willing to give that strategy a try. We’ll use every available cubic meter on the civilian ships to set up manufacturing facilities. We also need hydroponics to grow food. People won’t stay healthy for long if we feed them only emergency rations and recycled biomatter. Morale is a major concern. I don’t want my people to sink into depression.”
“I can tell them I know where Terra is,” Adrian suggested. “The prospect of returning to the world of their ancestors should give people hope.”
DeCourt shook his head. “It’s a good idea in theory, but it’s not the kind of announcement we need right now. The location of Earth is of interest mainly to academics, and I don’t think people care that much about it in their present state of mind. What we need is a victory of significance, even if it’s small. By the way, Captain Hunt captured a Biozi spy who must have valuable intel.”
Talia could tell from the expression on Adrian’s face he didn’t like where this was going.
“Talk to Winsley; I’ll take care of the rest,” DeCourt added.
Adrian nodded and walked out of the meeting room. He seemed so preoccupied he didn’t even stop to congratulate Talia on her promotion. She didn’t take offense. They would have time to socialize later, she hoped.
12
The Bloody Colonel
The next day, Talia was about to enter DeCourt’s office for her appointment when she overheard Winsley shout, “I don’t want that mad dog on my ships.”
She froze and listened.
“Calm down, admiral,” DeCourt said. “Beggars can’t be choosers. You told me you didn’t have enough personnel to organize a police force, and I heard you. The truth is, we don’t have enough people with experience in law enforcement, but we do need a civilian police force. I reviewed the dossiers of all potential candidates, and Colonel Kwan Kor is the best one for this job. He used to head a police department before the Retroforming.”
“You forget one important detail, Mr. President,” Winsley snapped. “Colonel Kor is in jail for war crimes. Two years ago, he was judged by a military tribunal and convicted to life in prison. People call him the Bloody Colonel. Believe me, it’s a nickname he earned.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” DeCourt countered. “I told you, we don’t have any choice. We don’t have anyone
else with enough experience in criminal investigations. We need to maintain order, and martial law is not a long-term solution. I remind you that there may be saboteurs and Biozi agents on our ships, and we must flush them out as quickly as possible. Admiral, I respect your opinion when it comes to military matters, but I’ve made up my mind—Colonel Kor will be our Chief of Fleet Security, reporting directly to me.”
“With all due respect, you’re making a mistake,” Winsley said and stormed out of the presidential office. He stopped abruptly when he saw Talia. “Dr. Galen, may I ask you a favor,” he said in low voice.
She nodded. “Of course, admiral.”
“You met with Colonel Kwan Kor before.”
“Yes, I even witnessed how he ordered the execution of Taar’kuun civilians who wanted to surrender, in defiance of the rules of engagement.”
“Keep an eye on him. Find an excuse. Tell DeCourt you need to do a psychological evaluation. Whatever it takes.”
Talia shivered, feeling a mixture of fear and disgust, as if snakes were crawling on her skin and she couldn’t get them off. “I…hmm, I can try…”
Winsley set his hand on her shoulder. “I know I ask a lot of you, but I count on you. Don’t forget that our actions will have consequences for the generations to come. This crisis is not the end of humanity—it’s a trial our species has to overcome.”
“Dr. Galen!” DeCourt shouted from his office. “I don’t appreciate being kept waiting.”
Talia gave Winsley a quick nod and hurried to DeCourt’s office.
* * *
The walls of the corridor were closing in on her. Talia listed the names of all the medications starting with the letter L—her technique for keeping claustrophobia in check. Adrian had taught her this technique.
Two prison guards stared at her blankly. “Dr. Galen?” One of them asked. “Would you like to proceed?”
Talia cleared her throat. “Yes, please. I’m here to conduct a psychiatric evaluation of Kwan Kor. President’s orders.”
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