Darwin

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Darwin Page 51

by Amanda Bridgeman

Doc nodded, eyeing him as he shoveled another forkful into his mouth.

  “I wonder why they didn’t take Brown in next?” Harris asked. “They normally go by seniority and seeing how McKinley and Hunter are still in the hospital, Brown should be next.”

  Again Doc shrugged, then swallowed. “Maybe it’s because Welles had a lot more to do with the Jumbo’s than Brown did?”

  “Maybe.”

  Harris watched him eat for a little longer, then once his plate grew smaller, decided to start asking his own questions. “So, did they hammer you?”

  Doc scoffed a short, sharp laugh. “Dale sure gave it a good shot!”

  “They obviously questioned our practices?”

  “Mm-hmm,” he said taking another mouthful.

  “They get personal?” Harris eyed him carefully.

  Doc looked back at him and swallowed. “Of course.”

  Harris sat back in his chair, watching him.

  Doc noticed. “What?”

  “They showed me a lot of footage of you and Welles …”

  Doc paused for a moment. “Yeah, they showed me some, too.”

  “There was a lot there that they could twist around if they wanted to, Doc.”

  “And Dale certainly tried to, but they’re clutching at straws, captain. They tried to find anything they could to use against me. He even showed clips of me talking with McKinley and tried to make out that we were at each other’s throats. They’ve got nothing. They questioned my relationship with Welles, with McKinley, with Carter and Louis, and even with you! They questioned my treatment of each patient. Dale even questioned whether I tried hard enough to save Bulk? Whether I had some beef with him and just let him go? They tried everything. It went on for hours, Saul, and they still got nothing.”

  Harris sighed as he watched Doc finish his plate angrily. “Yeah, they tried all of that on me, too. That’s bullshit about Bulk, Doc. There was nothing you could’ve done.”

  Doc nodded and pushed his now empty plate away from him.

  “Let’s just hope Welles holds up,” Harris said flatly.

  “She will.”

  “She’s got a head injury and she’s been through a lot, Doc. I wouldn’t be so sure,” he said, picturing Sibbie and Etta in his mind.

  “Are we talking about the same soldier that volunteered to go to the control room? The same soldier that went into the unknown, on her own, to retrieve your ass? She’s got guts, Saul.”

  “Yeah, but she had a gun in her hands then. In that room she’s got nothing but her stubbornness and her pride, and that can work against her if she loses control of it, or if Dale finds a way to hit the right buttons.” Harris leaned over the table toward Doc and lowered his voice a little. “More to the point, Doc, if she breaks and lets Dale twist around what she has to say, then that can have repercussions for all of us.” He stared Doc in the eye for a moment, hoping to drive home the seriousness of it, especially for him.

  Doc sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “She’ll be fine, captain. They’ve got nothing.” He stood up from the table. “I’m going to go catch some z’s. I’ll talk to you later.”

  *

  Carrie stared back into Dale’s accusing eyes.

  “Corporal Welles, are you expecting special favors because your father is a retired colonel? An Original?” he asked her. They were three hours in and Dale had dropped the Mr Nice Guy act; not that he had much of one to begin with.

  “No, I do not,” she answered with her voice tight.

  “So why the transmission to him on your journey home?”

  Carrie stared at Dale like an insolent child.

  “I asked you a question, corporal.”

  “I nearly died up there, Officer Dale. I had a fractured skull. I needed to talk to my family.”

  “No-one else made a transmission. Then again no-one else has connections that high up in the UNF.”

  “As you said, Officer Dale, my father is a retired colonel. What possible strings could he have pulled? And for what? We’ve done nothing wrong. All we did was survive.”

  “You know what I think, Corporal Welles? I think you’re a liar. I think you’re lying about the call to your father, you’re lying about your relationship with Captain Harris, you’re lying about your relationship with Second Lieutenant McKinley and you are most definitely lying about your relationship with First Lieutenant Walker. I also think you’re lying about whether or not it was necessary force that you used on Fairmont and Oxer. We’re not in your little boarding school now, corporal. You can’t call on daddy to save your ass this time.”

  Carrie tried to swallow subtly. “Well, I guess that’s your opinion. I stand by the fact that I have told you the truth. If you choose not to believe it, then let that be on your head.”

  “Ah! The ‘truth’ is a very powerful word, Corporal Welles, and one that can be bent to suit the speaker. So, I will let that be on my head. Now, let’s go back to your relationship with Captain Harris, shall we?”

  Carrie sighed loudly.

  “Boring you am I, corporal? Do you think the deaths of seven men do not warrant a debrief?”

  “I just hope the four murdered crew of the Aurora get the same treatment.”

  Dale ignored her. “When you killed Fairmont, do you think it would be fair to say that you were trying to win Harris’s approval, so he would finally let you board the Darwin? Prove yourself so you could get to where the action was with the rest of the team. I mean, it was the first kill on your side. You won the prize over all the men. That would be a great way to get his attention, wouldn’t it?”

  “Fairmont was attacking First Sergeant Hunter. He charged at me. I had no choice. Captain Harris wasn’t even on the dock at the time.”

  “Yes, but what a lovely trophy to show him when he returned. Do you think it’s possible that you used excessive force to prove a point?”

  “No, I do not.”

  “And what about Oxer? Second Lieutenant McKinley been giving you a hard time about being on the team. What a perfect way to set him straight? Rescue him by blowing out Oxer’s brains. Forget just wounding him. Cover that lieutenant in the enemy’s blood. Take him out good and hard, and show that Lieutenant McKinley what you can do! Isn’t that right, corporal?”

  “No, it is not.”

  “And Lieutenant Walker seemed to be on your side. It made sense to keep him sweet, didn’t it? That way you had someone looking out for you? Someone in authority. Tell me corporal,” Dale placed his hands on the table and leaned across directly in front of her, “what did that cost you? For Lieutenant Walker’s protection. I mean, he must’ve got something out of it, hmm? What was Walker’s payment for looking out for you and keeping the other guys at bay? You did spend a lot of time alone with him off surveillance camera … I’m sure you did more for him than just stock his shelves?”

  Carrie felt her face burn red with anger. She glared at Dale, her eyes flicking to Edgely to gauge his reaction. He seemed curious. For some reason, she suddenly thought of Harris, and could hear him ordering her to play it cool. She pictured Doc’s face, too, and tried to let her cheeks simmer into her best poker face.

  “Well?” Dale insisted.

  “What exactly are you insinuating, Officer Dale?” Carrie asked with a calm voice.

  “You tell me, corporal?”

  “I really don’t know, but making false allegations is against the UNF code, isn’t it? Sullying a good soldier’s name.”

  “Corporal Welles, I merely asked what you did for Lieutenant Walker. If you’ve read more into it, then perhaps that’s your guilty conscience talking?”

  Senior Officer Edgely sat up in his chair then. “Perhaps it’s time for a break, Officer Dale.”

  Dale looked over at Edgely, unhappy with the request. He seemed quite keen to continue clawing at Carrie. “Very well,” he muttered, then turned and left the room.

  *

  Harris and Doc wal
ked back into the mess hall for dinner at 1830. They saw Packham sitting at one of the tables with a guard close by. He locked eyes with hers and nodded and she gave a weak nod back. No Brown, he thought.

  They filled up their trays and sat on the other side of the mess hall. They knew they would not be allowed near Packham until she had been debriefed.

  “Brown must be in now, huh,” Doc said, glancing around at Packham.

  “Don’t know. If he is, then where’s Welles?” Harris asked.

  They ate in silence for most of the meal, stealing glances at Packham every now and then. Harris’s mind was racing. Where’s Brown? Where’s Welles? Various scenarios were playing out in his mind. He could see Doc trying to figure it out, too, but after about 25 minutes, Welles came walking in with her guard.

  The corporal locked eyes with each of them. As she walked over to the counter, she glanced behind to see that her guard had dropped away and was waiting with the others by the door. She filled her tray then turned around to face them, as Packham was escorted out. Harris motioned for Welles to sit in the chair next to him, which she did.

  “Captain,” she nodded. “Lieutenant.”

  They nodded back at her, then sat in silence for a moment while she ate.

  “So, how’d it go, corporal?” Harris eventually asked.

  Welles eyed the guards in the corner, “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Harris studied her. “Did they hammer you?”

  She looked back at Harris. “Are we bugged right now, sir?”

  He paused and thought for a moment. “Possibly.”

  She nodded. “Officer Dale’s a prick!” she said, making sure her voice was loud and clear.

  Harris smirked. “You mean, he’s good at his job.”

  Welles looked at Harris, but she didn’t smile.

  “Anything in particular I should know about?” He arched his eyebrow at her.

  “Not really,” she answered, “except apparently saving your own life or that of a fellow soldier does not warrant excessive force. Funny, I could’ve sworn that was UNF policy.”

  “Don’t sweat it, Welles,” he told her. “We all got the same treatment.”

  Harris glanced at Doc, wondering why he was being so quiet. Doc seemed to notice the look, and turned to Welles.

  “How’s the head, corporal? Swelling’s gone, I see.”

  Welles swallowed her mouthful, shot him a glance and nodded. “It’s fine. I’ve been tired, and it has been aching a bit today.”

  “Yeah, a debrief can do that,” Doc told her. “Get it checked out if you’re worried, though.”

  She gave him a half smile, then quickly looked back to her plate. Harris noticed she was being careful not to pay Doc too much attention. Almost too careful. They’d obviously shown her the footage and asked questions about their relationship. She quickly put her focus back on Harris.

  “So what happens now, sir? Are we trapped here until we’re all processed?”

  “Pretty much,” Harris answered. “I’d say it will take them a couple of days to finish the others.”

  “Have you seen the guys in the hospital yet?” Welles asked.

  “No,” Harris shook his head, “and I won’t until they’ve been processed. There’s no contact until the debrief is over.”

  “So, we just sit and wait?”

  Harris nodded. “We just sit and wait.”

  *

  Carrie sighed. She was tired, her head hurt and to be honest, she felt a little uncomfortable sitting there with Harris and Doc, not knowing what questions Dale had asked them. She was also paranoid as to whether there would be a camera on them now, watching their every move. She was worried about doing something that could be turned against her, whether it be looking at Harris the wrong way, or worse, looking at Doc the wrong way.

  In fact, she wanted to avoid looking at Doc altogether. When she’d first entered the mess hall and her eyes had fallen on him, she’d felt a certain ache in her chest. She didn’t know why this was happening to her, and now of all times. All this emotion, this weakness, was so unlike her. She’d never had feelings for any of her fellow soldiers before. In fact, she couldn’t recall any man playing on her mind so persistently, the way Doc seemed to. Why him? Why now, right when she’d finally had her chance at Space Duty? Right in the midst of all this mess.

  Despite this mess, however, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen between them if they made it through this debrief; back on Earth, off the ship, and away from prying eyes. This had only been a test case, right? So, technically, when this was over, they were no longer in the same unit. So how would things play out then? She had no idea if what happened on the Aurora would continue, or whether it was just a fleeting moment, a last desperate grasp for human contact in the face of death.

  The three of them sat in silence for a while until Doc eventually ended it. Appearing a little edgy, he got up from the table.

  “I’m going to head back to my room. I’ll see you all in the morning.” Then he turned and left.

  Carrie didn’t watch him leave, instead she looked at Harris, for distraction. “So, how do you think this will play out, captain?”

  He looked down his shoulder at her, considering his answer. “I guess that depends on how everyone’s debrief goes. Doc and I are satisfied with ours. Are you?”

  Carrie nodded. She was confident they had nothing to use against them.

  “Good,” he said, “I have confidence in the others. But it’s in the hands of the UNF now. It depends on who’s making the decisions here, what their agenda is, and then who’s behind them applying pressure. I think the debrief is just for show and they’re using it to scare us into keeping quiet and cover up what really happened.”

  Carrie nodded, eyeing the guards in the corner carefully, recalling her father’s warning not to trust anyone. It only made her wonder what had happened to her father to have made him so sure of that fact. It disheartened her a little to realize the mystery around her father had just grown tenfold, and the giant chasm of distance between them, even wider.

  Harris locked eyes with her. “Maybe we should head back to our rooms, corporal. We’ve still got a lot of waiting to do,” he said, as he stood. “And don’t we know waiting is the hardest thing to do.”

  *

  Harris was right, waiting was the hardest thing to do. Carrie sat on her bed, staring at the TV. The Moon elections were approaching and the news seemed to cover nothing else, switching between the five colonies for interviews and statistics. She decided to take a shower, wanting to wash away the day, but Dale’s comments seemed to stick firmly to her. She worried about what questions Dale had asked of Doc, and worse, she worried about what he’d asked of the captain.

  She’d been surprised when she’d seen the footage of Grolsh attacking her. It was almost like an out-of-body experience. After all, she’d been unconscious for some of it. It sent a shiver down her spine to think of how close to death she’d actually been. And more to the point, it sent a shiver down her spine to see Smith again, rushing to her rescue, not knowing that he, himself, only had hours to live.

  Dale also showed her the hospital footage of her and Doc alone. The first, after they processed Smith’s body, when she held his hand a little longer than necessary. She managed to pass that off as being upset over Smith, which she had been. Then there was the incident when Doc was treating her when it was all over. She hadn’t known that there was a camera in the room, when she’d held his hand and kissed it. Luckily for her, the camera was behind and to the left, so it wasn’t really clear what she had done. The footage showed her taking Doc’s hand, but the kiss could not be seen. She passed that off to Dale as being in pain. Fortunately, the camera did pick up the side of her head that Logan had hit. It looked bad, and provided all the evidence she needed.

  She stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel and headed back to sit on her bed in front of the TV. The Moon elec
tion coverage was over and they were onto the discovery of the last oil reserves on Earth, in the middle of the Indian Ocean. The reserves were on the border of Australian waters and international waters, but largely on the Australian side. Naturally the Australian government was claiming ownership, but other countries were begging to differ. Here comes another war …

  Carrie’s eyes were on the TV but she wasn’t watching it anymore. She felt a wave of tiredness wash over her. She pulled the covers back on her bed, dropped her towel and slipped in. She rolled over onto her side and eyed the empty bed beside her. She started to think about Doc again. In her mind, she could see his brown eyes looking at her, trying to speak to her. She could see his hand, his arm, his neck, as he sat at his desk eyeing the monitor in his office. Then she started thinking about what it would be like to curl up into his side, to have that arm wrapped around her. And it was that thought that saw her safely to sleep.

  *

  She made her way to breakfast feeling quite unrested. She’d tossed and turned through the night, dreaming a thousand dreams. She’d been back on the Darwin, and back in the debrief room, and neither were pleasant places to be. Logan and Chet were there again, jumping out of their skin to get to her, hungry like vampires. She kept hearing Sharley’s words echoing through her mind: “I’ll see you soon, Carrie Ann Welles,” and Logan pointing viciously at her, telling her he’d make her pay. These dreams were choking her sleep every night like a thick plume of black smoke, and she prayed silently for them to end.

  When she entered the mess hall, she saw Harris sitting on one side of the room, and Packham with her guard on the other. Carrie filled her tray and made her way over to Harris’s table, shooting Packham a sympathetic glance on the way. She took the seat opposite Harris, who had his back toward Packham.

  “Morning, corporal,” he greeted her.

  “Morning, captain.” She started eating her breakfast, stealing glances over at Packham, who looked worn out. Carrie swore she could see the dark circles under her eyes from across the room.

  Just then Brown entered. Harris saw this, too, and straightened in his seat. Brown grabbed a tray of food and made his way over, taking the seat next to Harris.

 

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