Darwin

by Amanda Bridgeman

  He looked confused. “What the hell are you talking about? Is your head okay? Has someone checked you out?”

  “The head is fine, Dad. I just, er … I missed you and … I missed mum, and I started thinking about those conversations you used to have with her. You know? About Sparkie and Uncle David? I was reminiscing …”

  He stared down the screen a moment, then rubbed his face as though he were trying to wake himself up. She could tell he’d cottoned on to what she was trying to do. “Yeah, sure, Ree. You said you wanted a gift?” He stared rather fixedly into the camera, not wanting to miss anything.

  She smiled. “Yes. We’re going to have a party when we get back to town, and I thought you might want to invite your friend along? You know, the one with the friendly face? The good listener. I can’t remember his name … he’s always good to have around. The life of the party. I’ve told my team all about him. They’d like to meet him at the party. We’ll need some entertainment.”

  He stared at her a moment. “Yeah, he’s a good guy, that one. I know a couple, I could invite a few along,” he said, as he rubbed his gray whiskers.

  “That’d be great, Dad. We would all really love to see them.”

  “Your head, your neck? Doesn’t look like blast wounds. Looks like you did several rounds with a heavyweight boxer?” His voice was softer, but still firm. She could tell his mind was racing, his eyes searching hers for answers.

  She gave a slight nod.

  “You got band-aids?” he asked her, referring to the wounded.

  “Er, yeah. There’re less than six.”

  He nodded. “And you mentioned Sparkie and Uncle David?” Sparkie had been her great-uncle David’s dog that had been hit by a car and died. So fond of the dog was her terminally ill great-uncle David, that he’d passed away, just days later, quite poetically in remorse. They had always taken Sparkie and Uncle David to mean death.

  She felt her eyes tear up as a sudden rush of emotion swept over her. Her father was so close to her on the screen, yet he was still days away. The thought that she nearly died, the thought of the unknown future ahead, made her realize just how much she’d missed him. How much she needed him in her life. Why had they let the distance come between them? Why had they been so selfish and stubborn? Why do people not realize what they have until it’s too late?

  This emotion was alien to her. She wasn’t one to weep at the drop of a hat. She kept a tough facade, but right now, she couldn’t. Right now, more than anything, she needed her father and his strength.

  “Yeah,” she nodded. “I know Sparkie and Uncle David were around for 12 months all up … but a third of those were bad,” she said, as a tear rolled down her cheek.

  Her father nodded, his face darkly serious. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Ree. I’ll buy you a gift and we’ll have that party when you get back. It’ll be like you were never gone and nothing’s changed.”

  Another tear rolled down her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. She wanted to be the strong soldier in front of him, but she was tired and drained. Right now, she could only be his daughter.

  “You get some sleep, Ree. I’ll see you safe at home.” His voice was firm, his eyes shining with determination. She knew he would take care of things. That’s why he’d been an Original, that’s why he’d been a colonel. He was as tough as they come, and he didn’t back down without a fight. That’s where she got it from.

  She hesitated, but then reached out to touch the screen, just as it went black. He was gone.

  She took a few moments to pull herself together, wiping her cheeks. She felt better knowing that her father was going to do what he could, but at the same time, suddenly wondered what she was dragging him into?

  *

  Harris made his way to the flight deck with Doc. Brown had called them over the PA. A UNF ship was approaching and requesting permission to board. They entered the flight deck and Brown and Packham looked anxiously at them.

  “The UNF Vortex, has made contact, and its captain would like to speak with you, sir,” Packham advised him.

  Harris bent down awkwardly to the console, holding his ribs and spoke into the mouthpiece.

  “UNF Vortex, this is Captain Harris of the UNF Aurora. Do you copy? Over.”

  “Captain Harris, this is Captain Lee of the UNF Vortex,” a man with an American accent responded. “Request permission to board.”

  “Permission granted. You may proceed.” Harris stood up from the console. “Packham, you done one of these before? Can you guide them on this?” he asked her.

  Packham nodded. “I’ve only done one mid-space boarding, as co-pilot, but I know what we have to do.”

  Harris stared at her firmly. “You make that clear to them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He turned to Doc. “Let’s go and welcome our new guests.”

  *

  Harris and Doc stood by the door in silence. Several minutes passed. Packham had transferred the comms between the two ships over the PA, so they could hear what was going on. The ship was alongside and the transfer chute engaged. There was a loud humming, then a whooshing sound as the ship transfer chute was pressurized. A long, high-pitched beep followed, then after a few minutes Packham’s voice came over the speakers.

  “Captain Harris. The chute is pressurized and the boarding party are outside. Over.”

  Harris hit the PA button. “Copy that, Packham. Preparing to disengage the entry doors of the Aurora.”

  “Roger that.”

  Harris released the intercom and stepped back from the door. He exchanged one last look with his lieutenant, then reached out and hit the release button for the door. It slid open to reveal seven men standing there. All but one were armed and aiming their weapons at them. The unarmed one, a tall man with dark hair streaked silver, and closely-cropped peppery beard, stepped forward.

  “Captain Harris? Captain Lee.” He gave a nod.

  Harris nodded back.

  “I’ve spoken with Colonel Isaack,” Lee began, “and he informs me that you are aware, that as of this moment, the Aurora is now under my control. Yes?”

  Harris nodded again, despite his reluctance. The Aurora was his ship.

  “You are also aware that, until all investigations are complete, you will be in UNF custody?”

  Harris nodded again.

  “Good,” Lee said. “Put your hands on your heads and turn around.”

  Harris and Doc glanced at each other, but did so. As soon as they turned their backs some of the Vortex soldiers barged onto the Aurora, pushed them against the wall and began to frisk them. Harris winced and grunted as a sharp pain shot across his side from his injured ribs. The rest of the soldiers split off; two headed for the flight deck and two headed down the opposite corridor toward the hospital.

  “Is this necessary, Captain Lee?” Harris said through gritted teeth. “We’re not resisting you?”

  “My apologies, captain, but I do not wish to take any chances. I’ve been informed that your team are responsible for the deaths of seven scientists.”

  Again Harris exchanged a look with Doc. The soldiers finished frisking them, then pulled their hands behind their backs and cuffed them.

  Doc looked over his shoulder at Lee. “I’m the medic on this ship and I’ve got patients. Uncuff me.”

  “I know who you are, First Lieutenant Walker. Our medic will assume care of your patients from this point forward,” Lee advised.

  The soldiers holding Harris and Doc turned them around to face Lee. Harris looked them over carefully. They were fit, but rather young. Kids, almost. After a few moments, Packham and Brown were marched under armed guard down alongside them. They, too, were shoved against the wall and frisked.

  “Hey,” Packham called out, bringing her arm in to cover her chest, and shooting her guard a filthy glare.

  Harris, Doc and Brown looked over at Packham’s guard. He was another young kid, stocky, with a num
ber one haircut.

  “Excuse me, ma’am!” the soldier said with a Southern American accent, smirking and pushing her face first against the wall. He spread her arms out and continued to frisk her very liberally. As he made his way up her leg with both hands, he did his best to get another reaction out of her.

  “Fuck off!” she spat, turning around and pushing him back.

  “I saw that, corporal,” Doc warned the guard.

  He flashed Doc a sarcastic grin. “Saw what?” he said, holding his hands up in the air and shooting Lee a glance. “I was merely frisking her.” Then he grabbed her and slammed her back against the wall and cuffed her roughly.

  Harris looked back at Captain Lee, who was watching his guard with Packham carefully, before moving to lock eyes with Harris.

  “That necessary, too, Captain Lee?” Harris asked, flatly.

  Lee ignored him. “Move them,” he ordered his men, then turned and headed off down the corridor. As Harris and the others followed, they saw a soldier up ahead walking Welles out of the hospital at gunpoint. She looked over at Harris’s group, concerned, as the soldier grabbed her by the back of the neck and pushed her up against the wall. The soldier, a solid kid with his hair in a little ponytail and shaved sides, looked around and saw Lee’s group approaching.

  “Found this one walking around, captain,” he called out in a European accent of some kind, then turned back to Welles. “Spread ’em!” He put his foot in between hers and kicked them apart. “Hands up,” he ordered. He began to frisk her as the Aurora team watched closely, but he seemed a little more professional than Packham’s guard. When he was done, he grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her back and cuffed her.

  “Hey!” Doc called to him, then turned to Captain Lee. “She’s a patient. She has a fractured skull and concussion.”

  Lee eyed him for a moment, then walked up to Welles. He grabbed her by the chin and lifted her head to view her neck, then studied the bandage over her swollen purple face.

  “Put her with the other patients, Corporal Gusto,” he ordered.

  The soldier grabbed her by her arm and led her back into the hospital, but not before she managed to lock eyes with Harris and then Doc, who stood behind him.

  Harris and his team lined up in the corridor outside the hospital, while Captain Lee entered to examine those inside. After a few moments, he reappeared and stood in front of Doc.

  “You’ve got a full house in there, Lieutenant Walker.”

  “Yes, I have, sir. Can your medic handle that?” He eyed him squarely.

  Lee gave a little smile. “We’ll manage.” He walked down the line and looked over the four of them. “You’re confined to quarters until we reach Command. You will, of course, be provided with food and water, albeit in your rooms. These soldiers will take you there now. There will be armed guards outside your quarters for the remainder of the journey. Are we understood?”

  None of Harris’s team answered, but they all made eye contact with Lee acknowledging him.

  “Good,” he said, then turned to his own soldiers. “Take them.”

  The soldier that had frisked each of them seemed to assume the role of their assigned guard. Harris’s guard stopped him in the corridor while the others were put into their quarters. They separated Doc and Brown, moving Brown onto McKinley and Hunter’s room. They lined each of them up in front of their doors and began to uncuff them. Harris looked over at Packham and saw her guard lean over and whisper something to her, whilst undoing her cuffs.

  “What was that, soldier?” Harris barked.

  The soldier looked over at him with a smart grin on his face. Doc and Brown glanced around to see what was going on.

  Harris turned to Lee. “He touches or taunts her again, you’re going to have a serious problem. Do you understand me, Captain Lee?”

  Lee hesitated a moment, then gave a quick nod. “Baker, go guard the hospital.”

  Baker finished uncuffing Packham, then grabbed her arm and leaned in to say something else to her, but Lee stopped him.

  “BAKER!”

  He smirked at Packham and walked off, and she quickly entered her room and shut the door. Harris turned back to make eye contact with Doc and Brown, before they were moved into their quarters and the doors locked.

  Under Lee’s escort, Harris was then marched down to his own quarters and uncuffed.

  “I’ll check on you later, Captain,” Lee told him. “I’ll be sure to inform Command of your cooperation on our boarding.”

  “You make sure you keep Baker on a leash or I’ll be informing Command of your lack of cooperation,” Harris said.

  “Don’t worry about Baker. He knows his place with me.”

  “He’d better. My team has just been to hell and back and that shit is the last thing they need.”

  Lee’s eyes narrowed in study of Harris. He could see a curiosity shining in the other captain’s eyes, a curiosity which indicated that Lee was just following orders and knew nothing about what was going on here. Harris gave the captain a quick nod, then stepped inside his quarters. The door slid shut behind him and he let out a long sigh of release. He looked at his watch. 06:30.

  Thirty hours, give or take, until they reached Command.

  *

  Carrie managed to doze through sheer exhaustion, but every little noise made her eyes dart open. She didn’t trust the Vortex team and somehow felt responsible for the others in Doc’s absence. She especially didn’t trust the new guard on the door, Baker. He was quick to offend, yelling at her to “Shut the fuck up!” for answering McKinley’s inquiry as to where the others were, then made lewd comments as the Vortex’s medic examined her. The medic, Jackson, wasn’t much better, his bedside manner leaving a lot to be desired. Chewing gum in a casual manner, he took care of only the bare necessities of the patients. McKinley didn’t care for him much either, his hard stare making that clear. The medic retaliated by pretending to examine his leg, but instead he squeezed it and watched McKinley reel in pain. All the while, the guard, Baker, laughed.

  She tossed and turned for the first few hours as best she could, given that her right hand was now cuffed, but eventually the tiredness got to her, and unable to resist, she finally fell into a deep sleep. Sometime later, however, she awoke with a start. She felt panicked, and as she was still half asleep, she freaked out at the sight of her hand cuffed to the bed until she suddenly realized where she was again. She looked around the room and both Baker and McKinley were staring at her.

  Baker started laughing. “Who’s Chet? Boyfriend?”

  Carrie glanced back at McKinley, who eyed her quizzically for a moment before turning his head and closing his eyes again. She tried to roll over and face away from them both as best she could with her cuffed hand, wanting desperately to wipe the images from her mind of Chet, Logan and Sharley, and what they were about to do to her in her dream.

  28

  Officer Dale

  Harris looked at his watch. 12:04. Not long now. Showered and dressed in his uniform, he was ready and waiting. Ready to get away from the Vortex crew. Ready to see his own crew again. Ready to speak with Colonel Isaack. Ready for whatever was going to come his way.

  Although he had to admit, he was very curious as to what exactly would come their way. He was convinced now that Lee knew nothing about what was going on. When he’d come to visit late yesterday with the medic in tow for a check-up, Lee’s eyes had been filled with even more curiosity, and the words he spoken to Harris had stuck: “It’s best you have a good sleep tonight, Captain Harris, because before you know it you’ll be back on Earth and knee-deep in debrief.” Lee’s words had come across as though he were offering advice, not a warning. Like he was trying to help.

  As Harris sat waiting on his bed, he’d heard the announcement over the PA of the arrival of the substitute pilots who would see their ship through re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere, and land them safely at Fort Centralis. Since the Vortex
had taken over they’d virtually been on autopilot, but now they needed real hands on deck to see the Aurora land safely.

  He’d felt the ship shudder and shake violently as it re-entered the atmosphere, and felt the mild stomach flip as the ship evened out against the Earth’s gravity, then he heard its loud humming dull to a minimum, and the clunking as it docked.

  They were finally home.

  Any minute now they would come to take him off the ship.

  The knock came at his door, just as he’d been expecting. He got up as quickly as his ribs would allow. Captain Lee and another soldier, older than the rest and named “Coup” according to his breast pocket, greeted him.

  “Captain.” Lee nodded, his eyes thoughtful. “It’s time to disembark.”

  Harris nodded in return. They cuffed him and marched him down to the soldiers’ quarters, where Doc, Brown, and Packham were waiting, also cuffed, with their guards. Harris eyed them carefully to make sure they were in the same condition he’d left them. Doc and Brown looked good. They’d caught up on some sleep, showered and shaved, and made good eye contact with him. He looked over at Packham.

  “Y’alright, sergeant?” he asked her.

  “No talking,” her new guard yelled.

  Harris gave him a look akin to an annoying little fly, dropping his eyes to the name sewn over his breast pocket: Bryson. He looked back at Packham. She gave him a slight nod and a smile, and he nodded back.

  The soldiers marched them to the hospital where Jackson, the medic, was waiting. He held up his hand for them to stop.

  “I got one more for you,” he said, chewing gum, then motioned to someone in the hospital. “This one’s fine to walk off the ship with this lot.”

  Baker walked out tugging a cuffed Welles along, and pushed her into the line between Doc and Packham. Harris noted he was a little rough with her. Lee disappeared into the hospital with Jackson.