“Sergeant Brown,” Harris greeted him, holding his hand out for a high-five slap. “Good to see you, soldier!”
“Captain,” he said, slapping his hand. He looked over at Carrie and nodded. “Welles.”
“Hey, Brown. How you going?”
He grunted. “I’ve been better. I gotta say, though, I’m glad the UNF has finally shit me out of its digestive system.”
Harris gave a laugh and shook his head. “We’re not out yet, Brown. Think of it more like moving into the lower intestine.”
Doc entered and he joined them, grabbing a tray of food, and nodding at Packham as he passed. He placed his tray on the table beside Carrie.
“Sergeant Brown, good to see you!” he said, as Brown held out his hand. Doc clasped it, then swung into the seat beside Carrie, his knee knocking hers as he did. He quickly glanced at her, then looked at two men opposite.
“So how’d it go?” he asked Brown.
“It went.”
Carrie saw Harris look over his shoulder at Packham, then back at Brown, his mind ticking over.
“Who’d they call up after you?” he asked.
“I think they were going to hit up McKinley next,” he said, in between chews.
Harris looked back at Packham and studied her for a moment. “They’re trying to break her,” he said as though thinking aloud, then turned back to the group.
Carrie, Doc and Brown all looked over at Packham. She saw them staring and shot them back a tired look. Carrie suddenly noticed that Harris was now staring at her.
“Well done, corporal,” he said.
Doc and Brown glanced between them.
“For what, sir?” she asked.
“Dale obviously didn’t get enough out of you, so he’s trying hard to break Packham instead. She’s his last resort. He’s making her wait, trying to freak her out. Letting her sit in here, but over in the corner, away from us, watching us. He’s trying to fuck her mind.”
They looked back over at Packham, again. Carrie didn’t exactly find it a comforting thought to know that Packham was paying the price for her success. Brown looked back at his food.
“She’ll be alright. She tougher than she looks,” he said.
“I sure hope so,” Harris said.
Carrie noticed Doc eyeing Packham, analyzing her, mind ticking over.
“So, they kept you in a while, considering the fact that you didn’t kill anybody,” Harris said to Brown.
“No, but they were trying like hell to get me to give the dirt on you three and McKinley.”
“Yeah? What dirt?” Harris arched his eyebrow curiously at him.
Brown hesitated, flashed Doc, then Harris, a look and said, “Just shit.”
Carrie noted that neither Harris nor Doc pushed for more information, and they sat in silence for a while, finishing breakfast, sipping their coffees.
“So, McKinley’s up next, huh,” Harris said, looking off into the distance.
“Gee, I hope Dale got his rest last night,” Doc said sarcastically.
Smiles seemed to sneak across their faces, before Harris suddenly dropped his.
“They’ve probably got him high as a kite on painkillers,” he said. “Or worse, they haven’t given him any and he’s been in pain the past few days. If there’s a way to cheat, they’ll do it.”
“McKinley can hold himself,” Doc said. “He’s got a high tolerance, believe me.”
“Yeah,” Carrie mused, “He’s a lot stronger than I gave him credit for. On our way back, the Vortex’s medic, Jackson, refused to top up his painkillers, then he pretended to examine his leg, but all he did was squeeze it and watch McKinley’s face.”
Doc’s face turned dark and serious as he looked at Carrie. Brown and Harris also stopped eating and stared at her.
“He was waiting for a reaction but McKinley didn’t give it to him,” she said. “He held it well. I don’t know how he did it, though. I would’ve screamed like a baby.”
“He’s tough as an ox, McKinley,” Brown nodded.
“I knew I shouldn’t have left my patients with Jackson,” Doc said through gritted teeth.
“We had no choice, Doc,” Harris told him.
Doc stared at Harris. “Captain …”
“I know, Doc,” Harris stopped him. “When this is over I’ve got a few things to say about the Vortex crew, Jackson and Baker especially. It will be said, believe me!”
*
Once they’d eaten, Brown disappeared back to his room for more sleep, and soon after, Harris left as well. Doc and Carrie sat in the mess hall a little while longer, although there was a feeling of uneasiness between them. It seemed that they were both painfully aware that they were alone at the table, despite the two guards in the corner, and most probably some surveillance camera somewhere. Doc shuffled in his chair at one point and when he came to a rest, his leg fell against hers. He quickly changed position to remove it, sitting forward in his chair, and then eventually giving in and standing up.
“I’m going to head back up, corporal,” he said, glancing at her briefly.
Carrie nodded and stood up too. “Yeah, me too.”
*
The rest of the day came and went in much the same way. At lunch, Dale had Packham on display again at one end of the mess hall. The four “debriefed” soldiers sat around together for a while. Not much was said. The odd comment about how long it was taking. Predictions of what would happen next. Doc did his best to avoid contact with Carrie this time around, sitting diagonally opposite her. He gave her the odd glance, but for the most part, made no attempt to converse with her in particular.
By the time dinner came, Packham was absent. They decided that either she was finally being debriefed, or Dale was just holding her elsewhere to mess with their minds this time.
Harris and Brown eventually left for their rooms, leaving Carrie and Doc alone again. They eyed each other briefly, before the lieutenant fidgeted in his seat again, then stood up to leave as well.
“Is this how it’s going to be from now on?” she asked. She couldn’t help herself, and although it felt uncomfortable, she let herself look into his eyes again.
He held her gaze for a moment, his eyes trying to speak to hers again, then he nodded. “For the time being, corporal.”
*
Harris felt the stiffness building in his body. He hadn’t slept well, as his mind was crammed with far too many thoughts. It didn’t help, either, that he’d dreamt yet again of Sibbie and Etta staring at him. It made him nervous. It made him edgy. It made him wonder whether Packham would hold up under the pressure. There was so much riding on the debriefs and it was going to come down to her, he was sure of it.
Packham had been absent at breakfast, and now again at lunch. He’d resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to see the rest of his team until the official UNF verdict was handed down. It bothered him some, as it had been a while since he’d seen McKinley, Hunter and Colt, and he wanted to know how they were doing. But he really wanted to see Packham and find out how she went. Brown said she was strong, but Harris remembered her wanting to hole up on the ship and wait until they were rescued. He wondered if she’d do the same with Dale and just give in? Welles had managed to get through Dale’s debrief, but then again she’d been the one to volunteer to go onto the Darwin and do what needed to be done. She hadn’t wanted to hole up like Packham had.
Although Welles looked a little worn down, as if she wasn’t getting much sleep, she seemed to be healing nicely. Command had access to the best medicine, so at least that was something. Her neck was pretty much clear now, her left eye was almost white again, and the bruises down the left side of her face were beginning to fade. The corporal was a lot stronger than he’d given her credit for. Not only was she a fine shot, but she was brave, fit, smart and she had a lot better understanding of the workings of the UNF than most corporals. Having a colonel for a father had obviously paid d
ividends in her chosen career.
Thinking about his new recruits only led him to think about his dead soldiers, however. The ones he would never see again. The ones that left a hole in his team.
“Captain,” Doc pulled Harris out of his thoughts, “have you heard anything about Carter and the guys? Do you know when they’re going to release their bodies? Will they have an official service for them?”
“You reading my mind, Doc?” He arched an eyebrow. “I was just thinking about them. I put in a request during my debrief, but I’ve heard nothing yet. I’ll follow it up this afternoon, but my guess is they’ll be waiting to see how the debrief pans out before making any decisions.”
“I’m done waiting,” Welles muttered.
They all looked at her.
“We all are, corporal,” Doc said firmly, then looked away again.
“C’mon, Welles,” Harris said, trying to cheer her up, “you’re a sniper. Waiting is what you do.”
“Yeah, but that’s different, captain. I wait around with a gun in my hand and eventually get to shoot a bad guy.”
Harris dropped his smile. “Well, hopefully, we’ll make it through this, and you’ll get the chance again.”
30
The Verdict
Carrie opted to eat her meal in her room that evening. She didn’t want to sit there in the mess hall again in silence, trying her best to avoid contact with Doc, worrying about what was going to happen to the team. She could do the same in her room; stare blankly at the TV and try not to think about it … or the dreams that haunted her.
She found that she only picked at her food, barely watched the TV and instead stared out the window. She watched as the lights of Fort Centralis twinkled in the darkness, traffic went by on the streets below and guards patrolled the pavements. She looked off into the distance catching the last glimpses of the ocean as the sun set behind the island’s mini-skyline, and a ship took flight leaving its trail across the heavens.
She thought about everyone else out there on the various mainlands, working nine to five, sitting at home with their families, rubbing their bellies from their lovely evening meal, completely oblivious to Carrie locked inside this small hotel room. Oblivious to the Jumbo’s the UNF had created. Oblivious to the far reaches of the galaxy the UNF was exploring. Ignorance was bliss, she thought. Unfortunately for her, she preferred knowledge. That was why she’d been drawn to the UNF; for the knowledge, the experience, and because her father had urged her not to. And that was why she couldn’t be one of them, out there.
She heard a knock at the door, and looked at her watch. 19:03. She opened it, and saw Harris standing there, alongside both their guards.
“Corporal,” he gave her a nod, “we didn’t see you in the mess hall this evening. Is everything alright?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You feeling alright?” He studied her.
“Yes, sir.”
Harris eyed her a while longer. “You get your orders for the next couple of days?”
“Yes, sir. Verdict tomorrow. Service the day after.”
“Good … and you’re sure everything’s alright?”
She nodded. “I just felt like eating in my room tonight, captain.”
He continued to study her face, then nodded back, “Well, if you need anything, these guards know where to find me.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He eyed her one last time then left. She could see the skepticism on his face, but she was too tired to care. She closed the door, went back to her window, and continued to watch the UNF world of Fort Centralis go by.
*
Carrie stood at the door to her room, ready to make her way to the UNF courtroom. She ran her hand over her ponytail to smooth it, tucked her long fringe behind her ear, straightened her skirt and double-checked her heels were clean and shiny. This was the first opportunity she’d had to wear the “official” Space Duty uniform. It was smart, it was feminine and she felt it had class. If it were not for the bruises on her face, she could’ve almost been a poster girl for the UNF, she thought. An absurd thought, really, after all they’d put her through. But she’d heeded Harris’s warning and was going to play the good little soldier until she knew where they stood with the UNF.
She opened the door, nodded at her guard, and headed toward the elevator. She had purposely cut it fine to avoid standing with the others. She wanted to just turn up and have it happen, whatever the outcome was to be. She didn’t want time to be nervous. She didn’t want to discuss possible scenarios or how she was feeling with anyone, and of course, she wanted to avoid Doc.
Unfortunately, when she opened the doors to the courtroom, he was the first person she saw. His eyes had been on the door. If she wasn’t mistaken, he’d been watching for her. He was off to the side, talking to McKinley and Hunter, who along with Colt, were sitting in wheelchairs, although looking reasonably well. They were dressed in their service uniforms and they too looked smart. Especially Doc, who gave her a subtle smile and nodded her way. McKinley and Hunter looked over at her, and her eyes locked with McKinley’s. She gave them a quick nod and immediately turned away. If it was painful to look at Doc in his combat uniform, then it was killing her to look at him now.
“I was about to come looking for you, corporal,” Harris hissed quietly. “This is not a day to be late!”
“Sorry, captain.”
Harris gave her a glare, then turned back around to face the front. Brown stood next to him and looked down at Carrie over his shoulder, very overtly running his eye over her.
“Well, well, well. Carrie the Kid in a skirt,” he said quietly, seemingly amused. Clearly he was opting for humor to break the nerves in the room.
Carrie overtly looked him up and down too. “Brownie, in official uniform!”
“Look good, don’t I?” He flicked his eyebrows up at her.
She flashed him a broad smile, but quickly controlled it, then looked around the room. Other than the Aurora team, there was only a sprinkling of other officers there, Dale included. It was clearly a “closed room” affair, which didn’t surprise her. She saw Harris lock eyes with one of the uniformed men. He had gray hair and looked to be a colonel in rank. The man gave a slight nod to Harris, who eyed him back with a blank stare, then turned away from his gaze.
Carrie made her way over to join Colt and Packham.
“Corporal Colt,” she said, with a half-smile, “how’re you going?”
Colt smiled. “I’m alright. They’re going to release me in a couple days.”
“That’s great. You look good,” Carrie told her, then she looked up at Packham. “How’re you holding up?”
Packham gave a weak smile. “Alright. I’m glad it’s over.”
Carrie gave her an empathetic smile.
“I hear you did good, girl?” Colt piped up.
Carrie shrugged. “I could’ve done better.”
“Oh, Jesus! Who you kiddin’? I told you, didn’t I? I told you there would be a time when you would get to do your shit and you did it, girl. Fairmont didn’t know what hit him.”
Carrie smiled. “Thanks, Colt … I missed you.”
Colt nodded, her eyes glistening a little. “Ah, Welles, I missed me too,” she said, shooting them a cheeky smile.
Packham smirked and Carrie couldn’t help but break a smile. She looked up and caught Doc watching her. If she wasn’t mistaken, he almost looked like he was in pain. At least, his eyes did. Did it hurt him to look at her, too? He quickly turned back to engross himself in McKinley’s conversation.
Just then an officer stood and called everyone to attention. The room fell silent and he announced the arrival of Judge Walter J. Bates, who entered the room and took a seat in the middle of the elevated table, on one side of the room. As he sat, the rest of them gathered also took a seat.
Carrie eyed him closely. He looked to be a little older than her father, although his hair wasn’t quite as gray
. He had a hard, round face with flushed cheeks and dark beady eyes. He opened an e-file in front of him, placed some reading glasses on his nose and began flipping through the onscreen pages, skimming quietly. The room remained quiet, as the Aurora team waited patiently. Carrie noticed someone watching her out of the corner of her eye. She turned and saw it was Dale. She gave him a great poker face, then turned back to Bates. She was getting good at this, she thought.
She wondered what the judge was reading and what he would make of all this? The Aurora team sat before him scattered with their injured. She looked over at Colt and eyed the bandage showing across her neck. Her eyes then fell to Hunter, whose broken arm was in a special gel-sling, the bicep on his other arm bandaged and showing beneath the sleeve of his shirt. She looked down at his thigh and saw it looked thick with bandages too. She turned her head slightly and looked over at McKinley, whose leg was in some sort of brace that ran from toe to mid-thigh. She then glanced over at Harris, who was sitting, but holding himself very upright, as though his ribs were still bothering him. She thought about her own head, and her side. They didn’t hurt so such anymore, but she could still feel the bruises sitting roughly on her skin.
Judge Bates flipped back to the front of the file and tapped the microphone in front of him, to check it was turned on.
“Officers, soldiers,” he nodded. “I have carefully read through the debrief report on the Darwin mission as prepared by Senior Officer Edgely.”
Carrie felt a slap of shock, as the Aurora team all turned to eye Dale. They’d been led to believe that he was the one responsible for any findings on the debrief, and that Edgely was merely observing. It would appear that Dale was a decoy, and he seemed satisfied with his ruse.
“It would appear,” the judge continued, “that to thoroughly investigate the events that took place I would need to undertake a more comprehensive investigation of Darwin Station itself. However, as the intimate details of the Darwin’s programs were classified, this could not be done. So, I am left with merely examining the events that took place from the time the Aurora docked to the time it disembarked. Although I have had to take into account the allegations of the Aurora team as to the nature of some of the programs being run on the station, I will not be referring to those allegations during this briefing, due to the classified nature of the said programs.
Darwin Page 52
