She sprang to her feet. “I’ll assemble the team.”
“Higgs,” he called when she reached the elevator. She turned. “Keep communication open and run a cam.”
“Yes, Captain.” She disappeared into the elevator.
Twenty minutes later, Hollins said, “Shuttle away. Fighter squadron escorting.”
Standish watched the images streaming from Higgs’s head cam as she briefed the team, while Hollins monitored the chatter from the escorting pilots. Standish couldn’t make out the team’s faces through their helmets, but he knew they’d be wary and determined.
“Approaching port hatch,” Higgs said.
“External visual on monitor five,” Hollins murmured. Standish watched the shuttle maneuver into position, then shifted his attention back to Higgs’s cam.
“Extending boarding tunnel,” crackled another voice.
“Expand to 2.5 times radius.” Higgs again.
“Expanded and sealed.”
Higgs’s arm flashed across the image. “Sanders, secure the hatch and get us in. Martin, you’re with me. The rest, remain at the head of the tunnel until you get the all clear. Moore, prepare to eject the tunnel and leave on my command.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Higgs said firmly, knowing that ejecting the tunnel would mean that she, Martin, and Sanders would drift in space until rescue shuttles could get to them.
“Understood.”
Higgs entered the boarding tunnel; her cam followed Sanders as he approached the hatch and attached a sensor to it. Standish didn’t know the details of how it worked; he’d dozed off during his countermeasure technology classes. Sanders backed away from the sensor and looked down at the instrument in his hand. Seconds stretched into minutes. “No suspicious readings,” Sanders finally said. “Connecting to control system...calibrating...ready.”
“Moore, extend side shielding and isolate the shuttle.”
The shield that swung in front of Higgs obstructed the cam’s view of Sanders.
“Prepare to engage,” Hollins said to the pilots.
“Shuttle isolated,” Moore said, indicating that the shuttle’s end of the tunnel was now sealed. The cam briefly showed Martin across the tunnel taking cover behind a shield, then Sanders crouching behind the shield in front of him. The image went dark; Higgs had tucked her head behind her shield. “Ready?”
“Ready,” Sanders and Martin said in unison.
The cam picked up the tip of Higgs’s weapon. “Open it.”
A muffled sound, then, “Done.”
Silence, then the cam slowly revealed the image of the open hatch and the deck behind it. “Clear,” Higgs said. “Unseal the shuttle. Everyone forward.”
The image on the viewing monitor bobbed as Higgs slowly walked to the hatch and onto the Danlion ship. “Life support active. No life signs detected yet. Heading toward the command deck. We’ll sweep along the way, in case they’re somehow avoiding detection.”
“Understood,” Standish said.
The team slowly made its way up the lower deck’s main corridor, checking rooms and decks as it went. “Clear.”
“Clear.”
“Clear!”
Was the ship deserted? Standish still couldn’t relax. Life support active...something didn’t add up. His jaw clenched. The images were starting to unnerve him. Eerie, seeing nobody in the corridors, storage bays, quarters...
“Proceeding to upper deck through maintenance shaft,” Higgs said. Halfway up the ladder, she stopped climbing. “I have a faint life sign, approximately one hundred metres and fifteen degrees from my position, near the command deck.”
“They could be waiting for us to emerge from the shaft,” Martin said.
“No. We’re not that far from the exit, but I’ll be cautious.” She continued her ascent, but stopped before popping the hatch. “Tossing neurolock grenade.” The hatch opened; the cam caught Higgs’s gloved hand as she tossed the grenade out and pulled the hatch closed. Fifteen seconds later, she opened the hatch again. The area outside the hatch slowly came into view. A yellowish haze prevented Standish from seeing whether she was in a corridor, a bay, a maintenance area...
“Clear,” Higgs said a moment later. If there had been a welcoming party waiting outside the hatch, the grenade would have paralyzed it, but not the Rymellans, whose bio filters would have protected them from the toxin. “Now seventy-seven metres from life sign,” she said, on the move again. “Will continue sweep.”
“Clear.”
“Clear,” another voice rumbled.
“Clear.”
“Lieutenant Commander! Over here.”
The cam image showed a corridor, then two of the strike team’s backs. They parted; Higgs stepped between them and stopped short. “Argamon,” she breathed. “They’re all dead.” The cam swept the room. Danlions, Standish presumed, sat slumped over tables, or lay on the floor. The cam lingered on a couple locked in a macabre embrace.
“What is this?” Martin asked.
“They haven’t been dead for long,” Sanders said, his voice high.
“Stay focused,” Higgs barked. “Our bio filters are active.”
“I don’t see any visible signs of injury,” Edwards, the team’s physician, said.
“How many are there?” Standish asked.
“I see ten.”
The cam swung back to the door. “Let’s keep moving,” Higgs said. “Now twenty metres from life sign.” The corridor came into view again. “Receiving more data. Heart rate of subject...140 beats per minute.”
Good, whoever was in there was frightened.
“Ten metres. Five. Through that door. Readying another neurolock grenade. Martin, cover me.” The door slid open. Higgs tossed a neurolock grenade into the room and quickly hit the Close button. Fifteen seconds later, she said, “Let’s go.”
The door slid open again. The yellowish haze left behind by the grenade dominated the cam’s transmitted images.
“Edwards!” Higgs shouted. “To me. Administer neurolock antidote. Now!”
“Administering.”
“Hurry!”
The haze began to dissipate. Standish could make out Edwards leaning over...then Edwards straightened...
Standish met Hollins’ shocked eyes and contacted Planetary Command.
“Richards. Is the Danlion situation still under control?”
“Get me Admiral Jensen,” Standish snapped.
“It’s 03:30.”
“Wake her up.”
*****
Mo swallowed a bite of oatmeal raisin cookie and continued her sentence. “They approved all but one.”
“How many did you submit?” Ann asked.
She shifted in her seat and grabbed another cookie from the plate sitting next to the comm station. “Six.”
“Which name did they reject?”
Should she tell her? No. Ann would ask why, and Mo didn’t feel like reciting four generations of Les’s family tree to get to the cousin a million times removed that already had the name they’d submitted and was still alive. “That’s classified.”
“Well, five out of six isn’t bad. And, you know, Ann Thompson is all you really need.”
Mo snorted. “Don’t hold your breath.”
“I was thinking the other day that you’re the first person I’ve ever seen who’s wider than you are tall.”
“Excuse me. I’m not that short...or big. And after what I just did for you, I can’t believe you’re picking on me.”
Ann groaned. “Come on, you’re not going to hang that over my head now, are you? That won’t be any fun.”
Considering that allowing Andrew to build a house on her land was no skin off Mo’s nose, she wouldn’t keep reminding Ann of her generosity. Not every single time Ann cracked a joke at her expense, anyway. Maybe every second or third time. Andrew had his own small patch of land that he’d received on his eighteenth birthday, but in addition to a house, he wanted to build a workshop an
d have a decent-sized garden. Mo’s land was located right next to his and she’d never use it, so... “I saw that the foundation is in. It won’t be long now before you’ll be living together—for real. Are you finally going to give up your room at the Military Academy?”
“Yeah.”
Good.
“I can always get it back.”
What did Andrew see in Ann again?
“So, any sign that the baby’s coming?” Ann asked.
“No, but I’m only due in—” She jumped when a siren screeched from the comm station. It sounded like 72’s evacuation alarm. “What’s going on?” she shouted, not sure Ann could hear her.
“Wait!” Ann barked.
Mo could hear a muffled announcement in the background, but couldn’t make out the words.
“They’re telling us to evacuate this deck,” Ann said. “Why do they always hold drills at the worst possible moment? I’m only halfway through my lunch.”
“What deck are you on?”
“Fourteen.” Ann paused. “They’re evacuating ten, too, and they’ve pushed back all shuttle schedules by an hour. Maybe it’s not a drill.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because when I was in the observation lounge earlier, I saw a shuttle with the Osprey’s number arrive. And now they’re evacuating the shuttle deck...”
Now Mo’s interest was really piqued. “I thought the Osprey just left. Why—oh, maybe someone’s injured.”
“Why would they have to bring them back? They could treat them on the Osprey. Plus, I just saw a bunch of physicians heading for the elevator with people on gurneys, so the infirmary is included in the evacuation.”
Weird. The infirmary was usually exempt from routine drills. “What else do you see?”
“People moving, Mo, and that’s what I have to do, or I’ll get into trouble. My lunch had better be here when I get back.”
“I wish I was up there!”
Ann snickered. “I can understand why you’re barred at this point. They want the shuttles to be able to lift off, and 72 spiralling into the planet would be really bad. Anyway, I really have to go.” She disconnected.
Figured! Something exciting was happening on 72 and she was stuck down here. Though it was probably just a drill. So the infirmary was evacuating...it had to practise its evacuation procedure every once in a while, right?
“Are you okay?”
Mo slowly turned her chair toward the anxious voice.
“I heard you shouting,” Jayne said.
Mo bit her lip. “I’m not going into labour. I’m due in five days.”
Jayne’s shoulders sagged. “Oh. Okay. It could happen anytime now, though.”
“It could, but it’s not happening now.”
“Do you need anything? A drink? Something to eat?”
“No, I’m okay, thanks,” Mo said, trying really, really hard not to take advantage of Jayne and Les’s attentiveness. Over the last few weeks, they’d waited on her hand and foot. It almost made up for her extra weight and the constant pressure on her bladder.
Jayne leaned against the doorframe and folded her arms. “What were you shouting about?”
“I had to shout so Ann could hear me above the evacuation alarm on 72.”
Jayne’s eyes widened. “They’re evacuating 72?”
“Just a couple of decks, and it’s probably a drill,” Mo said, with a dismissive wave of her hand. Weird about the shuttle from the Osprey, though. Maybe a crew member’s close relative had died, and since the ship had only been a couple of days out, they’d decided to leave the tour and return. Most wouldn’t do that, though. When you went on tour, you understood that you’d have to miss important family events. “You know, I wouldn’t mind a tziva,” she said. “Do you want to play some cards?”
“Sure. I’ll go prepare the tziva and get the cards.” Jayne hurried away.
Mo turned her chair, put her feet up on the footstool Les had moved nearer to the comm station, and clasped her hands atop her round belly. She could get used to this. As for 72, whatever was going on up there, it didn’t concern her.
*****
Lesley reviewed her opinion of an upcoming case one last time and dispatched it to the assistant who’d present it to the Overseer. She rubbed her eyes, flicked on her desk lamp, and opened the next case. It would be impossible for her to get through them all before Mo had the baby, but she wanted to finish as many as she could before her upcoming parental break. She’d only have a month, and she wanted to savour it, not worry about being too far behind when she returned. She glanced at the images of Mo and Jayne on her desk. It wasn’t real yet—the baby. Lesley had felt her kick and peered at the ultrasound images, but it hadn’t sunk in that her life was about to radically change.
At least this impending event wouldn’t be like their notifications, when they’d received the shock of their lives. The baby was healthy. Mo was doing well. Jayne, while still fretting about their daughter’s future, was anticipating her birth as much as her Chosens were. Mama and Papa were excited. The Middletons were eager to welcome the latest addition to their family. This break would be a joyous one. It wouldn’t be fraught with the tension, disbelief, and agony their notifications had wrought.
Someone knocked on her open office door. She looked up—and straightened.
Admiral Hall nodded to her from the doorway. “Good, you’re still here. I need someone with your unique skill set.”
“What can I do for you?” Lesley asked.
“I’d like you to fly me somewhere in your aviacraft.”
She masked her surprise with difficulty. “Of course. When?”
“Now.”
Lesley turned off her monitor and lamp, and rolled back her chair. “Where would you like to go?” she asked as she reached for her cloak.
“72.”
Lesley couldn’t stop herself from turning toward him.
“You know how to fly a shuttle, as well.” He met her eyes. “I did say I needed someone with your unique skill set. We’ll pick up a few others on the way to the shuttle station.”
Her mind racing, Lesley slipped into her cloak. “I’ll have to let my Chosens know I’ll be late.”
“Meet me in the lobby in five minutes. Oh, and Commander...you’re not to mention this to your Chosens. Just tell them you’re working late.”
“Yes, Admiral.”
He strode away. Lesley waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps, then went to her comm station and beeped Mo. “I’m going to be working much later than I thought.”
“How much later?”
She honestly had no idea. “I don’t know. I could be really late. Don’t wait up.”
“You’re not going to get through all your cases before I go into labour.”
“I know, but Blair just threw a rush case into my lap. I said I’d do it.” Her jaw tightened. She hated lying to Mo.
Mo tutted. “Well, if I go into labour tonight, too bad. Blair will have to find someone else to finish it.”
“Look, I’m sorry about this. If it’s not too late, I’ll beep you when I’m done, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. But when you’re off, make sure she knows you’re off. No cases only you can do.”
“I’ll make sure. Anyway, I’d better get back to work.” Lesley disconnected and blew out a sigh. What was so confidential that Hall had asked her to keep a secret from her Chosens? She didn’t discuss case details with them, but she didn’t outright lie, either.
Her curiosity was piqued further when she strode into the lobby and spotted Laura standing with Admiral Jensen and Commander Alex Fisher, who was Jensen’s close advisor, as Laura was to Hall.
Laura broke away from the others and headed Lesley off several feet away from them. “Do you know what this is about?” she murmured.
Surprised that Laura would be asking her, Lesley shook her head. “Hall just told me he needed my flying skills, and my aviacraft.”
Laura grunted. “Jen
sen knows, but she’s not saying anything.” She looked past Lesley.
Hall marched over to them. “Good, everyone’s here. We’ll follow you, Commander.”
As Lesley led the way to her aviacraft, she tried to figure out why she’d fly four senior officers from Interior and Defence to 72, and who’d join them along the way. She listened to the conversation going on behind her. Neither Hall nor Jensen was giving anything away. They were making polite talk, discussing recent trivial military announcements.
When everyone was settled into their seats and the aviacraft was ready to lift off, Lesley said, “Where would you like me to go, Admiral?”
In the passenger seat, he twisted toward her. “The Chosen House in Sector A6. We’re picking up two of the Chosen Council Heads.”
What? It took all her self-control not to gape. She entered the coordinates and kept her eyes forward. Now she knew two things for certain: first, that the Way was threatened, and second, that she’d better not crash the aviacraft or shuttle. The only person they were missing was the Preeminent Ruler.
One of the Chosen Council Heads echoed that thought when he climbed aboard. “Commander Thompson,” he exclaimed, to Lesley’s surprise. “Your notifications caused quite a stir. I’m Humphrey Stevens. I consulted on your case.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Pleased to meet you.”
“And you. This is Margaret Ellis.” Lesley and Ellis nodded to each other. Stevens glanced around. “I don’t see the Preeminent Ruler.”
“We’ve decided not to involve the government,” Jensen said. “This involves the Way, not civil regulations, and the fewer who know about it, the better.”
“You said it was urgent. What is it about?” Ellis asked.
“Wait until we’re on 72,” Jensen said tersely.
“We’ll proceed to the shuttle station now,” Hall said to Lesley.
Identity Crisis Page 4
