by C M Dancha
“We’re not sure how you got on the ship that took you to Alpha 30. Thankfully, you avoided the explosion and found a way to the medical depot. The agent who inserted your recorder button has given us the information on your new ship, so we can track it. We ran the ship’s identifier number and came up with nothing. According to our records, TED88987 doesn’t exist. If you can, please provide the ship’s flight signature.”
Morg was becoming more confused as the recording played. The only thing which made sense was that he and the kid were in danger.
“We are confused by the coordinates you sent us in your coded message. There isn’t anything at these coordinates. How could you stop at this location for repairs? Did you make a mistake? Please explain.”
Morg understood that stellar charts wouldn’t show a cloaked planet like Ziptowtheon. He needed to explain this discrepancy, but it seemed of secondary importance to everything else the Lead Trifect spoke about.
“Lastly, Officer Morg. I want you and your cargo off the medical depot planet as soon as possible. The longer you stay the more of a target you become. I understand the two of you are deathly ill, but you need to leave quickly. The Landan agent has hidden medical supplies and instructions in the cargo bay of your new ship. Await further instructions before proceeding to Earth. To communicate directly with me, use private comm number MIKE8788761. Good luck Officer and get well. I look forward to decorating you after the completion of this mission.”
Morg listened to the Lead Trifect’s message a half-dozen more times. Re-playing it didn’t resolve any of his confusion. The transport no longer existed? The cargo bay of your new ship? What the hell did the Lead Trifect mean? It didn’t take a genius to know the answer to these confusing details lay in the adjacent cot sound asleep.
There was no question his gut feeling about being watched was right. It also made him wonder how many assassins, kidnappers, and miscellaneous bad guys were gunning for them.
26
Morg woke to the Lead Trifect’s message still playing. He had listened to it sub-consciously hundreds of times in his sleep.
The sleep and drugs rejuvenated him. He felt a little better and for the first time in days wanted to eat and go to the bathroom. This illness created strange symptoms and side effects. He couldn’t remember the last time he relieved himself. And, food was the furthest thing from his mind. Morg loved to eat but this illness erased his desire for nourishment. For beings who were overweight, the illness was a great diet.
Morg glanced over at the Earthling. The kid was still out cold, softly snoring, and smiling at whoever was in his dream.
Morg rose carefully from his cot hoping he wouldn’t lose his balance and topple over. Before he stood, he knew a simple task like walking was going to be a challenge. It was amazing how his legs and back weakened even though he spent less than a day resting in the cot. He finally stood but didn’t attempt to walk. He had a bad case of vertigo and it needed to pass before he took the first step.
Ten minutes later he was out of the recovery ward and walking the aisles of the hospital. He felt reasonably well even though he moved like an old Yandan. Doctors, orderlies, and assistants ran every which way. The number of sick patients arriving at the medical depot almost doubled in less than two days. Morg hugged the hallway walls to avoid running into anyone. He was out for a stroll and a bit of exercise. He moved aside for the beings who were either in the process of dying or trying to save the dying.
Every so often Morg looked over his shoulder or used a reflective partition or window to look behind himself. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being followed. Even with years of experience in espionage and counter-espionage, he couldn’t identify the tail. Whoever was following him was very sneaky. This being was not a first-timer to the spy game. He was well-versed in the art of surveillance.
Up ahead Morg spotted a comm center. He ducked into one of the comm cubicles and shut the door. The door was a solid composite of noise abatement material and carbon metallic. It prevented anyone from seeing or hearing what he was doing, but it also prohibited Morg from seeing out. He didn’t know if keeping his activities secret was a good trade-off for not spotting his follower.
On the second pulse, Jimmy Washington answered. The quick response caught Morg by surprise. He stumbled over his words until he could get his voice hole working correctly.
“Jim…., I mean, Jimmy. There you are. Morg here. I guess you know that. You can see me, can’t you?”
Jimmy was having fun watching and listening to Morg trip over himself. He decided to take over the conversation so Officer Morg could collect his thoughts and calm down.
“Officer Morg, how are you? You don’t look like you are in the best of health. Where are you?”
“I’m on Alpha 30 which is a medical depot. The Earthling and I are sick as Mulange dogs. I’m starting to feel a little better, but the kid’s recovery is touch and go.” Morg took a good look at Jimmy and could see his bruised and swollen face was nearly healed. What a change from the last time they communicated. “You look great, Jimmy. Have the enforcers left you alone?”
“Haven’t seen them again, Morg. Of course, damn near everyone on Feltte Six is sick. The entire planet is quarantined. We haven’t had a visitor ship in quite some time.”
“How are Luna and Sam?”
“Not so good. They’ve been sick for days. I thought I was going to lose Sam the other night, but she pulled through.”
“And you haven’t caught the illness?”
“No, I’ve been very lucky. Just about the time I started recovering from my injuries, Luna and Sam came down with the illness. So, I’ve been taking care of them. What a twist of fate, huh?”
“It’s incredible you haven’t caught the bug yet. This medical depot is wall to wall sickness and death.”
“Same here, Morg. The latest estimate I heard was about thirty percent of Feltte Six’s population will die from the bug. They think it started here but don’t know why. Another theory is it was brought here on a visitor ship. Some areas of the universe are referring to it as a plague.”
Morg wanted to say something but could feel his energy waning. It was better to let Jimmy rattle on and save his energy for later in the conversation.
“I don’t have the time to worry about how it started. The girls and I are barricaded in Luna’s home. We have enough supplies to wait until this thing burns itself out. Well, that’s enough about us. What are your plans, Morg?”
“Just get better, Jimmy. I’m not worrying about anything else other than that.” There was no sense telling Jimmy about their troubles. It would take forever explaining the crazy things which happened to them after leaving Feltte Six. Some of it Morg couldn’t explain because he didn’t understand it. Besides, if Jimmy didn’t know anything then it couldn’t be beaten out of him.
“Jimmy, can I ask you a couple questions?”
“Sure, dude. Lay it on me.”
Morg wasn’t sure but thought Jimmy agreed to field his questions.
“The last time I spoke with Luna, she mentioned there were three female Athlon mercenaries looking for me. Have you heard any more about these three?”
Jimmy squinched his eyes indicating he was thinking back to anything the girls may have said about the Athlon mercenaries. After a minute, his eyelids opened to reveal a gleam. “Yeah, Luna did say something. It was just a passing comment that she hadn’t seen the Athlons in the blind pig since talking with you. That’s about it.”
“Okay. Just wondering.” Jimmy knew there was a damn good reason why Morg asked about the mercenaries. Chances were that he was worried about them for a good reason. If Morg wanted to volunteer more about this subject, he’d say something. Otherwise, Jimmy wouldn’t push Morg for more information.
“Another question for you. Have you ever heard of ancient lava flows on Feltte Six?”
This time, Jimmy had a quick answer. “Yeah, there’s an old Feltte Six legend about lava fields. I don’t know
much about it, but it has something to do with the first beings who landed on Feltte Six. Supposedly, Feltte Six was a very inhospitable place at that time. Volcanoes were exploding often and spewing lava and poisonous gases. Most of the volcanic activity happened on the other side of the planet from where Sam and I live. Anyhow, the first inhabitants learned how to use the lava flows to stay alive. They became adept at using them to cook, stay warm and heat their homes. Here’s the part that’s very strange. Somehow, they used high-temperature lava to create oxygen and nitrogen in the planet’s atmosphere. That, in turn, created water vapor which produced moisture. The moisture turned to rain which fell back to the planet. As the rain pounded the planet’s surface the lava started to cool. It was a giant ecological circle which lasted thousands of years. Eventually, the volcanoes went dormant and the lava flows stopped. That’s about all I know, Morg. I don’t know if it’s true or a fairy tale.”
This time Jimmy couldn’t help himself. “Morg, that’s a really weird thing to ask me. What’s up?”
At times it was hard for Morg to follow the words and terms Jimmy used. He wasn’t sure what a fairy tale was. He guessed it was the opposite of truth.
Morg wanted to be up-front and honest with Jimmy but explaining the reason for his question about lava fields was best left unsaid. Jimmy would have a tough time believing that Morg met a dying Trikian in deep space who might have found a Molum crystal mother-lode on Feltte Six. In fact, Morg was having difficulty believing such a far-fetched story. “Jimmy, I can’t tell you now. But, after I do more research, I promise to explain.”
“Okay, Morg. Just don’t get your ass blown away. I want to hear this explanation.” Even though Jimmy’s comment was in jest, he knew Morg lived a dangerous life. It was his semi-sarcastic, thoughtful way of telling Morg he cared and wanted his friend to stay alive.
“Don’t worry, I’ll survive. Jimmy, I hate to ask you again, but can you send another message for me?”
“Sure. Sam did it the last time, but I remember how she did it. Is it going to the same private comm number?”
“No, different number this time. If you are ready, I’ll give you the new number and message.”
“The transceiver recorder is on. Go ahead, Officer.”
Morg switched to the ancient Yandan dialect. He spoke slowly and carefully so the recorder picked up every nuance in his message. “Lead Trifect, Officer Morg. I received your message from the Landan agent. There must be some mistake. The Earthling and I took the E647 to Alpha 30. When the transport was refurbished on cloaked planet Ziptowtheon, it was given the new identifier number and changes to its exterior. The number is fake. The transport still has the same flight signature. Do not know what ship exploded. Do not understand how or why Commander Fritase died in explosion. I will interrogate cargo about these discrepancies when he recovers from the illness. Will leave Alpha 30 as soon as possible. Please confirm that primary destination Earth is on hold.”
Morg stopped using the ancient Yandan dialect. “Jimmy, that’s it. Send directly to private comm number MIKE8788761.”
“Will do, Officer. Is there anything else you need?”
“I don’t think so. That should be it. Say hello to the girls for me.”
Morg was ready to end the communication when another thought raced through his mind. “Jimmy, wait. I have another question. Do you know anything about Luna’s female life-giver?”
Morg’s question about the lava flows was strange but this question was really off-the-wall. “Not a thing, Officer. Why would you ask that?”
“It’s not that important, but I ran into a female Landan here who looks like an older Luna. The similarity is uncanny.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll ask Luna when she is feeling better. If it’s her mother, I mean female life-giver, do you want to know?”
“No. It doesn’t make any difference to me. Just thought Luna might like to know where her life-giver is. That’s assuming they are related. Jimmy, take care. I’m signing off now.”
Although Morg sat through the communication, the exchange with Jimmy drained most of his energy. He considered taking a nap in the comm cubicle which was very quiet. He decided not to because it would be too difficult sleeping upright. He needed to lay horizontal on something like a recovery cot. The downside of sleeping in the recovery ward was hearing the hacking, sneezing, moans, and groans of the other patients. His acute hearing made it much more difficult falling asleep. If it hadn’t been for the side-effects of the bug and utter exhaustion, he may never have fallen asleep in the ward.
Morg left the comm cubicle and began the long, draining trek back to the recovery ward. He still had the feeling of being watched. He took every opportunity to check the halls and rooms for surveillance tails.
“Officer Morg, I have a vap pistol in the middle of your back. You are going to take us to your little friend.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, Morg could see a burly being over each shoulder. The one on his left held the vap pistol in his back. Both were coughing and sneezing which meant they were sick and most likely registered patients.
“Which little friend is that…. what’s your name?”
“Never mind who we are. Just take us to that punk you brought to Feltte Six.”
Now he knew who he was dealing with. It was the two enforcers that wanted to interrogate the Earthling about something which happened on Feltte Six. God only knew what mischief the kid got into at the Detroit 67 park. It must have been bad if two Feltte Six enforcers went AWOL to track the kid across the universe to a medical outpost.
“I don’t think you’ll get anything out of the Earthling.”
“Why is that, Yandan?”
“Because he was out cold when I left him an hour ago. He’s sick, just like you two. In fact, he’s sicker than either of you.”
“We’ll worry about that. Your job is to get us to him if you want to stay alive.”
Morg thought about disarming the two Feltte Six enforcers but knew he didn’t have enough energy. Any other time they would be on their backs gasping for air.
As they meandered through the hallways, Morg wondered what the enforcers planned to do. They certainly couldn’t assault the Earthling with hundreds of patients and workers in the recovery ward. They could silently kill the Earthling, but their chances of escaping Alpha 30 were slim to none. That left only one reasonable idea; kidnap the kid. Morg hoped these two slugs would take him along. He wanted to hear what the kid did on Feltte Six. Plus, he needed to hang on to the kid for the sake of his home planet and whatever scheme the Lead Trifect was cooking up. If the enforcers made the mistake of trying to assassinate him, they would end up on the wrong end of six decades of invasion trooper martial arts.
“Who are those two beings?”
“I don’t know. They obviously don’t like Morg. That’s a vap pistol in his back.”
The two female Athlon mercenaries lay on separate floating gurneys pretending to be deathly ill and uninterested in anything other than their illness. When Morg and his two captors walked by, they were no more than twelve feet away. They might be able to take out Morg at this distance, but then they would have to shoot it out with his captors. Until they figured out what was going on, it was better to get off their gurneys and follow at a discreet distance.
“Sister look at the pants those two are wearing. Aren’t they the same design as the pants worn with Feltte Six uniforms?”
“I think you are right, sister.”
“I wonder what two Feltte Six enforcers want with Officer Morg?”
“Maybe it has something to do with the death of our fathers.”
“Possibly, but I don’t think Feltte Six would send enforcers after Morg just because some of their visitors were killed by another guest. That doesn’t make sense.”
“You’re right, sister. There must be another reason. I just hope Morg isn’t taken back to Feltte Six for trial and execution. I want that privilege.”
27
&nb
sp; “Welcome, sir. How are you? I was very glad to get your message about meeting today.”
The Mentat entered Millard Miller’s private office and sat in the chair of authority at the meeting table. Normally, he wouldn’t take the chair at the head of the table but referred to as “sir” gave him the courage to flaunt his new-found, self-confidence.
“Mr. Miller, the pleasure is all mine.”
“Have you considered what we talked about the last time? Have you made a decision?”
“Yes, Mr. Miller, I have made a decision. I want to join your crusade against Prefect Conway”.
Miller and the Mentat didn’t say another word. Each was wrestling with thoughts racing through their minds. The Mentat questioned whether his decision to join Miller was wise. He had no problem sticking a knife in Conway’s back. The man was an obese, abusive low-life. Everything and everyone he touched wilted and died a slow and horrendous death. He was bad for Earth, the solar system and universe. No matter how good his promises sounded they ultimately ended in doom.
What disturbed the Mentat was breaking his promise and contract with his superiors. If they found out about his disloyalty, he would be banished from the Mentat ranks and never allowed to return to the home planet of Mentattis.
Being chosen and trained as a Mentat was a great honor. Only the best of the brightest were selected for a Mentat internship. The training was arduous and lasted twenty years. It wasn’t easy learning how to read the minds of other beings. Mentat interns gave up all personal relationships and once they entered training, contact with friends and family ceased. The drop-out rate was close to fifty percent. Those who didn’t make the grade were banished to an outlying planet to live out the rest of their days in Spartan-like conditions. Their brains were neuro-cleansed so none of the secrets from Mentat training were passed on to outsiders.
He tried to convince himself that what he was about to do was for the betterment of the Mentat Service. It was a very risky gamble considering the Service produced most of the income for their planet. Deep-down he knew his disloyalty would be considered treason. There was no explanation or excuse the Mentat Service Ruling Council would accept. If they gave in to his argument for turning on Conway, the credibility of the Mentat Service was worthless. No leader or being of prominence in the universe would hire another Mentat. The fall-out from his disloyalty would have devastating consequences for every being on Mentattis. The economy would crash, and disorder would ripple throughout the universe.
