Tempest Rising

by Eric Warren

  “Just a feeling,” Tyler replied. “I was watching him over my shoulder, and it seemed he was working hard on something but every time I asked him if I could help he said he’d take care of it. I’m not one of those people who necessarily blames Mr. Robeaux for what happened to him, especially not after all the help he gave us down here. But still, it seemed wrong to me. And then I find out he leaves from here and steals a shuttle. I have to think I made the right call.”

  “And what call is that?” Evie asked, scanning the screen. Nothing was showing up. “What did he access?

  “I wiped the files he tried to transfer to the shuttle,” Tyler said.

  She turned to him. “You what?”

  He took a step back, his face flushing. “I…uhh…erased the files. He left here in a hurry and I tracked him and once he was in the shuttle bay I knew what he was doing. So, I went back into the system and sure enough he’d sent a packet of files to the shuttle. I just deleted them. I figured if it was a sanctioned order then he had no business having those files, right?”

  Her ears grew hot. “Did you see any of the data?”

  He shook his head. “No, but I’m sure there’s a backup copy in Tempest’s computer.”

  If Cas had done what she suspected him of doing, then he would have taken the proof of the alien threat with him. But if Tyler deleted the files he wouldn’t have anything for the Sil.

  Dammit, Cas. This is why you don’t go off to take care of shit on your own.

  “I need to see what he was looking at,” she replied.

  “I don’t have that clearance,” Tyler replied. “You’ll have to talk to the commander.” He indicated Sesster. Evie wasn’t sure but she thought she saw one of his appendages flinch as soon as Tyler mentioned him.

  “Commander, could I have access to the files Cas was viewing please?” she asked.

  He turned from the consoles, facing her in a way that only a Claxian could. I tried to warn him not to access them. He wouldn’t listen.

  “That’s okay,” she replied. “Just let me see what he was looking for.”

  Sesster made his way across the room, his massive frame moving with the grace of a bird. He ducked down to fit under the catwalk, stretching and contorting himself so he could “stand” beside them.

  He needed information from your personal logs, Commander. I apologize. I didn’t grant him access, but I didn’t actively try to stop him either.

  Her face softened. “Why not?”

  Because his intentions were correct, even if his methods were not.

  He knew. Sesster had seen something in Cas and knew of the threat. It was always hard to tell how much Claxians could read from certain people.

  She glanced at Tyler. He wasn’t being given the same courtesy of hearing Sesster as she was. He seemed bewildered by the conversation.

  “Can you show me?” The terminal beside her automatically activated, showing her own personal files. Sesster highlighted the path Cas took and the files he copied. They were image and video files she had taken from the Achlys. Files she’d backed up before giving them over to the Coalition. “Was this all?”

  Sesster led her down another path, this one showing the visual logs they’d recorded in their brief skirmish with the Sil. He’d copied files from both. He then showed her how Cas had copied the surveillance data from the unknown threat. Presumably to show the Sil.

  He’d gone to try and convince them on his own. And he’d probably gotten himself killed in the process. Why did he have to be so hardheaded? Heat flushed up her neck and to her face and she had to work to keep her temper in check. “Ensign,” she said. “You’re temporarily relieved from duty.”

  “What?” Tyler said, stepping back.

  “You should have reported this data to the bridge immediately. Instead, you saw fit to make the decision to delete it and tell no one.”

  “But…but he was…there was no time. If I’d waited he would have escaped—”

  “—with the information, yes. Which he was cleared to do. Now we potentially have a man in the field with no backup and no bargaining chips. You should have informed your bridge officer immediately.” She turned to Sesster. “The same goes for you.”

  I was unaware of the data transfer. After he had what he needed I stopped listening.

  “Convenient,” she said. “And it isn’t as if I can relieve you since you are necessary for the engines to work. But be assured, the captain will hear of this.” She turned back to Tyler. “Did I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Commander,” he said, stiffening. He made an about-face and exited Engineering.

  Sesster extricated himself from under the catwalk and stood his full four meters in height.

  “I know you didn’t mean any harm, but we should have known. We could have done something,” she said.

  You would have stopped him. Which was exactly what he didn’t want. He didn’t want any more crewmembers to die for him. He’s lost enough because of his decisions.

  Evie winced, thinking about the lost souls on the Achlys. First because of his actions of alerting the Sil to their presence, then after they tried to activate an untested weapon, resulting in the loss of all hands. There was no way Cas didn’t feel that burden. No wonder he’d been so mopey on the way here. But that didn’t mean he could make up the rules as he went along. There was a chain of command on this ship and everyone had to follow it. No exceptions.

  “That wasn’t his call to make, Commander,” she said. “And it wasn’t yours either.”

  With that she left Engineering, dreading her next meeting with the captain.

  26

  This darkness would drive him mad. How did an entire species operate without any sources of light? Perhaps since they didn’t seem to have any kind of eyes they didn’t need light. But they had to be able to see somehow, Zenfor had turned to him to interrogate him. That meant she looked at him. Maybe it was like the Claxians’ ability. Perhaps they developed along a similar evolutionary curve, though the physical structure of a Sil was much closer to a human than he would have suspected.

  Coming aboard he’d had no clue what to expect. They could have been beings made out of pure energy or amphibious creatures with their ship full of liquid. Or they could have been completely incomprehensible to him in every way and he would have stepped on the ship finding it empty. Creatures who lived on more than one plane of existence at once.

  But no. They seemed to emulate the same body structure of many of the common species, two legs, two arms, head, hands. But there was also something very odd about them, and it had to do with that “aura” that surrounded their heads. Cas couldn’t help but wonder if it was connected to the ship in any way. So far, every Sil had varying colors of purple auras, and that just happened to be the same color of the symbol he saw on the outside of the ship. Could they be connected? Were the auras not part of the Sil themselves but instead an enhancement of some kind? Or maybe even an insignia or rank for serving on this ship?

  Even if he’d spent decades under the tutelage of Laska he couldn’t have hoped to have been prepared for this. No one could. Diplomacy would only come with further contact and it would be impossible as long as he was stuck here against this wall.

  Zenfor had said something about a trial. He hoped it would be like the trials he’d seen on other worlds, where the accused was allowed to speak. Cas needed to make his case before whoever was running the trial before he was executed. Which meant he needed proof. But without the data all they would have would be his word. He needed some other way in which to convince them he wasn’t the enemy here. He shuddered to think what would happen if Tempest tried to enter Sil space again. Especially now that they had him as a captive. Though, to their credit, they didn’t seem interested in using him as bait or as ransom. They simply wanted to kill him for something he didn’t do.

  Cas struggled; tried to move anything that would move but finding it impossible. Even his head had gone immobile after Zenfor left, which allo
wed him to breathe and little else. He had to admit, it was an effective way of keeping your prisoners from causing trouble. And since they were planning on killing him anyway what difference did it make that his arms and legs had long lost all their feeling? He could have a blood clot at any moment, leading to an aneurysm and Zenfor would come back to find him dead, hanging on the wall. Wouldn’t that be a fitting end.

  There had to be some way out of this. But without a way to actually see what was holding him up there was little chance he’d be able to find one. Perhaps the Coalition prison wasn’t so bad after all. At least he’d been able to walk around. Go to the restroom. Eat on occasion. The simple things.

  There was only one thing he could do, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Suffocation had always been a fear, whether it was the vacuum of space or the inhospitable atmosphere of a rogue planet. Cas’d spent his entire life always ensuring he’d be able to take his next breath. But it seemed like now was as good a time as any to stop. He sucked in as deep as he could since he couldn’t expand his chest…and held, counting in his head. He had no idea if this would do anything or not, but it was better than nothing.

  Ten seconds. No problem. Ten seconds was easy.

  Twenty seconds. Little tougher. The desire to release the breath crept up the back of his throat.

  Thirty. His pulse quickened, his body trying to figure out what had happened to the oxygen.

  Forty. He could feel the blood rising to his cheeks and the pressure on his chest, willing him to exhale and suck in some sweet, sweet oxygen. But he couldn’t. He had to remain strong.

  Forty-five. The pull to release seemed to double every second. But he would not relent.

  Fifty-five. Cas squeezed his eyes closed. Forcing himself to hold on.

  Seventy. Thoughts were growing fuzzy. He was having difficulty focusing.

  Seventy-five. He had to hold on.

  Eighty.

  Eighty-five.

  Hold on.

  Ninety.

  Cas crumpled to the floor, sucking in gasps as hard as he could, risking hyperventilating. But slowly his breathing returned to normal. He snapped his head up, glancing around but still unable to see anything. It didn’t matter; he could move again. He waited a moment for his breathing to return to normal before he decided to move. Slowly he scooted away from where he thought the wall was. There was no telling if he accidentally touched it when he tried to get up that it wouldn’t pull him right back into immobilization again. As he moved all of his joints tingled and spasmed, having been immobile much too long. He had to also wait for all feeling to return before he could stand up again, though that might not be the best idea either.

  Would he even be able to leave this place? He and the Sil had passed through a door when they’d entered, and Zenfor had left the same way, the door almost turning to mist for her. Would it do the same for him or remain solid? There was only one way to find out.

  Wait, his mind said. What’s the play here? Get out of this room then…what? Go back to the shuttle?

  He couldn’t go back. As much as he didn’t like this place, returning to the shuttle and attempting to leave would be fruitless. They’d be on him immediately. They may even be on their way here now to restrain him again. But he couldn’t let that happen. What he needed to do was find Zenfor, or someone else with as much power and influence on this ship and get them to listen for five minutes. Five minutes to avert disaster, that was all he needed. After ruminating everything over for hours he was convinced he could make it happen. He just needed the chance.

  Cas crawled in the direction he thought the door should be, the metal beneath his hands cold. He was still unable to detect any vibration through the plates; just what kind of ship didn’t produce reverberations when it was moving through space? There should be at least something. But this ship was like a tomb. No sounds, no smells, dark and lonely. It was the worst place he’d ever been and he wanted nothing more than to return home. Or at least let them shoot him out into space where he could see some stars before he died.

  Maybe he should return to the shuttle. There would be a light inside he could use; it would at least give him some bearings on where he’d come from and where he was supposed to go. That was, assuming he could get out of here at all.

  Still crawling he made his way forward until the plates sloped up slightly to what was definitely a wall. He felt around, wondering if this was the door or if he’d become turned around and was facing a different direction. He stood, making sure his hands led him up against the solid surface. This might not even be a door at all. In which case he’d have to make his way back around the room anyway. He tried to remember if he’d seen any other details in the dim light from Zenfor or any of the others’ auras, but couldn’t recall a thing.

  He felt around for a seam, some way for him to tell this was in fact a door but only found smooth surface. He took a step back—making sure to keep his hand on the wall—hoping to trigger some mechanism that might let him leave. Unfortunately it made no difference. This ship was so odd; despite the metal plates he couldn’t feel a seam anywhere, and hadn’t felt one on the floor either. Was this ship just one continuous piece of molded machinery?

  Cas took a deep breath and dropped his hand. The Sil wouldn’t be stupid enough to allow him to leave this room, in the event he figured out how to remove the immobilization field. No, they would want to keep him in here until someone could come and restrain him again. He turned until he was facing one-hundred-eighty degrees from his previous spot and stepped forward. There should be another wall in front of him somewhere. He took another step. Nothing yet. He put his hands out in front of him hoping to feel something but they only swiped at air. Another few steps, still nothing. He had to be a good six meters from where he’d fallen from the wall. The room hadn’t been that big, had it? Three more steps, each slightly more confident. He still hadn’t run into anything yet. This was maddening. It was like being trapped in a midnight labyrinth. Someone would have to come for him eventually, right? He found himself wishing the person would come sooner rather than later, if for no other reason than to remind himself he hadn’t gone absolutely mad in here.

  Three more long steps. The room could not be this long. It wasn’t possible; not from what he’d seen when they brought him in. Had he passed through another door and not even known it? He reached out with his arms, spinning one way then back the other hoping they would touch something but there was nothing. Somehow the lack of walls was even worse than being held up against one. Was this ship even real? By leaving his wall had he become lost in the folds between dimensions? And could he ever get out?

  There was only one thing to do. He continued walking forward.

  27

  Box tossed the small device aside, the show playing within not drawing his interest at all. He’d tried to get into it, but something he’d once found enjoyable he now found dull and unexciting. It seemed like everything since he’d started spending time in sickbay had fallen to the side. Was it possible he’d finally found something fulfilling in his short life?

  “Naahhh,” he said aloud despite the room being empty. “Can you imagine? ‘Hi Doctor Box, my balls hurt today.’ ‘Well, let’s take a look and see if we can’t find the problem’,” he mocked in two different voices. First, he doubted anyone would let him see their balls and second, there was no way anyone in the Coalition would ever certify him for anything other than assistant work or maybe triage. Despite the fact he now had several centuries of medical knowledge stored in his systems. He’d even backed up the data to his secondary core in case he was in an accident and needed to be rebuilt. All he’d stored there before were his personality and memory routines, but now he had something much more important to store.

  He was grateful for Xax for allowing him to work beside her, but if this situation showed anything it was how unevenly circumstances were stacked against him. If he could be pulled from anywhere and stored in a room with zero evidence and nothing more
than a suspicion from the captain then how could he ever expect organics to see him as equal?

  Before he’d come aboard the Tempest most people either ignored him or considered him Cas’s helper/enforcer/love slave or whatever. The point was they never paid him any mind. Until they’d become involved with Commander Diazal. She’d been the first one to call for his assistance back on D’jattan, to help those people escape from the Sargans. Not many other organics would have done that. She’d even vouched for him once she’d finished his evaluation after the incident with Lieutenant Ronde. Maybe she thought she owed him for not giving her away that night she snuck on the Reasonable Excuse. Or maybe she really did see him as a fully autonomous person but either way she was the exception, not the rule. In his experience most people would toss him into a recycler before claiming he could think for himself.

  He walked over to the comm panel on the wall, using it instead of his personal comm as it might be more likely to get a response since it would show as coming from the ship itself and not him.

  “Commander Diazal? Hello?” he asked into the comm. No response. She must be otherwise occupied. She’d said she would get back in contact with him; perhaps she was making a case for him to the captain right now. It was ridiculous he was cooped up in this room when he could be down in sickbay putting his skills to good use. If they were going back into Sil space, whether they decided to go after Cas first or not he would be needed down there. They’d gotten away last time with barely a scrape. A second time they wouldn’t be so lucky.

  Cas, you stupid bastard. If they decided to leave him to his fate, wherever he’d shuttled off to, then Box might have a moral dilemma. He couldn’t let him go off on his own forever. He’d have to find a way to get off the ship himself and go after him. Assuming he’d be able to track which way he went. He wouldn’t have just left without a note or explanation if he wasn’t planning on coming back. He had to have known how it would look, especially with a record like his. Box was lucky they hadn’t taken more extreme actions.