Freedom

by Maureen Toonkel

  After checking in with Chief Warrant Officer Greene and Ensign Glenna, Captain Stoner shimmied down the rope and made his way back to the Cages. All appeared to be proceeding in an orderly and productive manner. Word of Hampton and Shasta’s rescue had already spread throughout the city, resulting in Josh being bombarded with inquiries. It was a subject he was not fully ready to deal with, as he was still struggling to comprehend the reality of the situation. Besides, he didn’t have the answer to the most asked question, “Are they going to be OK?” That was something he kept asking himself. Are they going to make it? And if they do, how debilitated will they be? He remembered the passing of his Great Grandfather Kyle Stoner. Josh had idolized his Great Grandpa. They shared a passion for science fiction, especially space travel and particularly Star Trek. So when Kyle Stoner suffered a massive stroke, it pained teenaged Josh to see him confined to a bed, unable to move the right side of his body. His speech was slurred, and he labored hard to mutter even one or two words. While there was now vaccinations to prevent strokes, they were not yet available when Kyle Stoner was a youth, and by the time they were available, it was too late to be effective for someone of his age.

  One day Josh overheard his Great Grandpa slowly spew out four words to his father. The words haunted Josh for years, and now they were once again rumbling around repeatedly in his head. Please let me die. Kyle Stoner passed on a few hours later. For a while Josh was angry at his Great Grandfather. Why did he ask to die? Didn’t he want to still be with me? As Josh entered adulthood, he realized that Kyle Stoner did not want to live out his life in such a depleted condition—unable to feed or dress himself or to easily communicate. The anger Josh felt toward his Great Grandpa turned into guilt and eventually admiration. Of course, Josh was aware that there were many people with severe disabilities who could not carry out routine daily living skills without assistance, yet they lived full and productive lives. But to Josh, it was understandable that when someone at the age of ninety found that he would no longer be able to live the life he had been accustomed to, he might wish not to go on. If Wayne and Keith should survive, what will it be like for them?

  “They are in critical condition,” Josh told Amanda Rugan in answer to her inquiry. “The medical staff is doing everything they can.” He purposely turned his face away from Amanda, hoping to avoid any further questions while his eyes scanned the area. With his back toward the nurse, he asked. “Do you know where I can find Commodore Naper?”

  “I believe he is in the Guard House, conferring with Dr. Monroe,” replied Amanda.

  “Thank you. Carry on.” Josh walked away, leaving Amanda standing with her hands on her hips, slightly shaking her head.

  Commodore Naper was standing alongside Dr. Meyer Monroe, apparently observing, as the doctor was applying a splint to the leg of a skinny male slave. He looked up when Josh Stoner entered the Guard House. “Amazingly this young man has been navigating around for months with a fractured fibula. Dr. Monroe discovered it during his examination.”

  “I appreciate your diligence, Dr. Monroe,” said the Captain.

  “What about Bess Tremont?” barked the doctor.

  Josh was once again surprised at the animosity aimed at him by this doctor that he had never even met before. “She is being cared for by Nurse Rugan. She has been inoculated and she is receiving treatment to bring down her fever.”

  “She better make a full recovery or else I will see that you pay for—”

  “That’s enough, doctor,” interrupted Commodore Naper.

  “Dr. Monroe, you and I are going to need to have a serious conversation. Nevertheless, in the meantime we continue to need your assistance. So please proceed,” said Josh. “Commodore, may I have a word with you?”

  The Commodore and Josh walked out of the Guard House and down the B Lane, stopping at the 4 Passageway.

  “I need to return to the Gladiator. I must make several calls and communications down here is still hit and miss. Admiral Wilcox has been trying to contact me, so, I owe him some explanations as to where I have been for the last few days. I also have several critically ill officers that I need to check on,” Josh explained to Commodore Naper. “Therefore, I am requesting that you take over down here. Please continue to oversee the inoculations and medical treatments, as well as keeping the prisoners secure. Any questions?”

  “No,” answered Chris Naper. “I will try to keep you informed, although as you say, communications is a mess.”

  “I will have my engineer work on the communication glitch as soon as he completes another task I’ve assigned him to.” Josh told the Commodore about the explosive planted on the Gladiator. “Please keep that information to yourself. I do not want to stir up any unnecessary panic.” Naper nodded in agreement. “OK, I am headed to the surface. Oh, and let Dr. Monroe know that I am taking Ensign Tremont back to the Gladiator with me.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  June 28, 1200 Hours

  After buckling the seatbelt around Bess Tremont’s slim waistline, Josh settled into the black leather seat at the helm of the John Glenn. The communications console seemed to be in working order as he was able to reach Ensign Saad and order him to launch the space pod.

  Turning to Ms. Tremont, he noticed how pale and weak she appeared. She was obviously quite ill. “We will have you up to the Gladiator shortly, and Dr. Loring will look after you.” The pharmacist nodded her head. “Can I ask you how you ended up as a captive on Brisula?” questioned Josh.

  “It is just as we told your doctor and Commander Andrews. We were attacked by a Tradian vessel, which managed to blow out our engine. The Tradians towed us to Brisula and threw us into those cages.” Bess stopped speaking and took several huge breaths. Josh could see that it was painful for her to talk.

  “Can I ask you one other question? Why is Dr. Monroe so bitter?”

  “Meyer blames the U.S.S. Gladiator for our capture. He feels that you filed a false report indicating that Brisula was uninhabited, and therefore it was safe to begin the drug testing.”

  “Yes, it is true that our report stated that Brisula was uninhabited, but I did not recommend beginning the drug testing,” said Josh in defense of his actions. “How much of the drug did you bring along?”

  “Only three doses. We were instructed to test how the drug stood up to the atmosphere of Brisula, and how it reacted with rainwater. If those results were favorable, then a crew would be dispatched to construct the actual drug facility. Eventually a larger supply of the drug would be produced.” Bess began coughing uncontrollably.

  “OK, no more questions for now. Try to relax. We will be there in just a few minutes.”

  The hangar doors on the Gladiator slid open and Ensign Saad safely guided the Glenn onto the launchpad. Josh bolted out as soon as the pod hatch was raised. He saw Paul Loring standing alongside the Conveyor station with a medical gurney at hand.

  “She is quite ill. See that she gets the best care possible,” Josh said to Loring.

  “Certainly, sir,” answered Dr. Loring.

  “I will be along to Sick Bay in a bit to check on all the patients. I need to change clothes first.” Turning to Ensign Saad, Josh ordered him to assist the doctor with getting Bess Tremont from the space pod and unto the gurney.

  After showering and changing into a fresh uniform, Captain Stoner visited the Bridge. Things seemed to be in order. However, he had expected to find Dennis Pearson at the conn.

  “Where’s Denny?” he asked Diane Pearson.

  “He is in the Leisure Deck,” she answered softly.

  “Yes, of course. Any reports on how things are going?”

  “No, sir. But I am concerned.”

  “It will be fine. Your husband is very good at what he does.” Josh patted her on the back. “I will be stopping by the Leisure Deck, and then I will be in Sick Bay.”

  Getting off the elevator, Josh found it eerily disturbing as the usually busy corridor leading to the Leisure Deck was now deathly quiet
and deserted. He reached the Leisure Deck and nodded to the security guard manning the door. Josh stepped inside, and then standing against the wall, he watched Dennis Pearson and the rest of the bomb squad at work. They were gathered around the finely polished, wooden upright piano. The top lid, with its brass hinges, was propped open. Dennis was on a step stool with his head and shoulders hunched over the rim. Josh surmised his arms were inside the piano where the hammers and strings were housed. All at once, Dennis began to slowly and deliberately stand up straight.

  “Got it!” announced Dennis. In his hands was a pair of long nose tweezers, which were gripping a small circular disk that was emitting a pale purple glow. It matched the color of the button for the Gladiator on the computer panel in the Brisula lab, which Josh had viewed from the cell imprisoning him. Two bomb squad members assisted Dennis to carefully dismount from the step stool. They walked over to a large vat that had been set on one of the card tables. Dennis lowered the tweezers into the vat, released the bomb, and quickly moved away. There was a muffled explosion as purple smoke rose from the vat.

  “That’s that,” said Dennis Pearson, placing a black lid on the stainless steel vat and thus extinguishing the smoke. “Yeah, that Deactivation Solution does a splendid job.”

  “Good work,” said Josh, clapping his hands.

  “It gives me the creeps thinking about how that bomb could have exploded while Ahn was giving the concert I ordered him to perform. He was really pounding away on the keys, and I hear tell the piano was shaking up a storm,” said Dennis with a slight tremble in his voice. “It’s a goddamn miracle that we are all still here.”

  “Yeah well, we can thank our lucky stars it never came to that. Let’s have that bomb analyzed. UGC will want to know exactly how it works. They will need to deploy bomb squads to locate and defuse all the bombs planted by the Tradians. Since this one still appeared to be active, our destruction of the computer on Brisula did not turn it off. Accordingly, there must be at least one other system from which the Tradians can activate these devices. Maybe there’s a way to trace it from the bomb itself.”

  “Yes, sir,” responded Dennis. “My squad and I will get right on it.”

  “Great. I also need you to try and repair the communications system on Brisula. Currently it is fluctuating between malfunctioning and working minimally.”

  “Yes, Captain. I will get on that too.”

  “Thanks, Denny. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Pearson walked off with a wide smile across his face.

  With the bomb deactivated, Josh headed for Sick Bay. A part of him dreaded to hear what Dr. Loring might tell him. By not knowing the facts, he had hope that everything was going to turn out fine. Once he was informed of the true status of his officers, then he would have to face reality as grim as it might be. Nurse Jill Mann greeted him at the entrance.

  “I showered and put on fresh clothes,” he told her. She smiled and pointed him to Dr. Berg’s office. Josh found Dr. Loring sitting at the desk, with pen in hand, scribbling on a pad of yellow, lined paper. He looked up when Josh entered the office and watched Neil Chase exit.

  “I don’t have access to the computer any longer, so I am completing my notes and reports the old-fashioned way. I am amazed that I even remember my penmanship given that we generally do everything electronically,” Paul chuckled.

  “I’d like a status report, please, on our patients,” said Josh ignoring Paul’s attempt to befriend him. I will not allow myself to be lured into forgiving Paul or having sympathy for him.

  “I completed a preliminary examination on the pharmacist. She has all the symptoms of an advanced case of Legionnaires’ disease. I’ve ordered a series of antibiotic injections. She is resting comfortably. I have every reason to believe she will make a full recovery. Likewise, Commander Andrews is also being treated with antibiotics, and he should be able to return to duty shortly, which is not soon enough for his liking.” Paul grinned and tilted his head slightly before continuing. “As for our other two patients, they remain in critical condition. I have placed them on a regime of neurological control medication to prevent seizures. They are in the heat chamber, and we are monitoring their oxygen levels and body temperatures. Both have symptoms of Legionnaires’ disease, and they are being treated accordingly. I am optimistic that Shasta and Hampton will survive this.”

  “Optimistic?” echoed Josh. “Is that doctor talk for ‘you hope they will survive, but you really have no idea?’ ”

  “We are doing everything we can. I for one will remain optimistic. And yes, I always hope that my patients will make a full recovery.” Paul grinned again. “Josh, er, sir, I know how close you feel to Shasta and Hampton. It may sound old-hat, but I am a firm believer that being optimistic and eliciting positive thoughts, can have a profound effect on a patient’s recovery.”

  “So you want me to pray for them?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt.”

  Okay, thought Josh, is that Paul’s way of letting me know that the situation is pretty hopeless. It seems to me that you pray when you’ve tried everything else, and there is nothing left to do but pray. “Fine, doctor, I will say some prayers for them and all the others who are ill, both aboard ship and on Brisula.” Josh began to head out the door, but did a complete about-face. “I will be having the other Shasta body brought up to the ship. I would like you to perform a complete autopsy. We need to know who the real Wayne Shasta is.”

  “Captain, we don’t need an autopsy. I can tell you who the real Shasta is,” replied Loring. “The Shasta in the heat chamber is the real McCoy. The other Shasta is the imposter. He is one of the fake bodies that the Tradians created.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “It is the most logical explanation. The Tradian scientists were working on bringing the fake bodies to life. They discovered a way to import existing human brain waves into the manufactured bodies thus creating artificially living clones. I am positive that the body, which you are referring to, is one of those clones.”

  “What would the Tradians have done to Wayne in order to get his brain waves?” asked Josh, who was astonished at what he was hearing. A frightening thought went through his mind; was the real Shasta now devoid of his thought processes? Was he going to be like a zombie?

  “They didn’t have to do anything to him. They already had his brain waves.”

  “How can that be?”

  Paul hesitated before he answered, “Oh, heck. I guess I’ll need to confess eventually. It might as well be now.” He took a deep breath and then spat out the words. “I gave them the brain scans from the medical files on my computer.”

  “You gave them Wayne’s brain scans? Why Wayne?”

  “I actually gave them all the brain scans of the entire Gladiator crew.”

  “You have got to be kidding.” This admission from Paul Loring hit Josh like a ton of bricks coming down on his head.

  “I wish I was. I am truly sorry. You need to believe me. If I could go back and undo everything I did, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

  “Well, you can’t, can you?” Josh felt his anger start coming to a boil, and he reminded himself to keep his cool. “If the other Shasta is an artificial clone, how did it die?”

  “It didn’t really die in the sense that living beings die. The zip gun shot that shut him off must have disrupted some internal wiring. He actually can be fixed.”

  “Not on my watch.” Josh reached up and rubbed his temples. It felt like a vice was squeezing his head. This keeps getting worse and worse. “Did they alter the brain waves?”

  “No, that would not be possible. The brain waves would remain exactly as they were, up to the moment I recorded them into the computer. That would mean that the clone would have all of the original subject’s memories, behaviors, emotions, and such up until that point.”

  “Oh, that explains why Shasta did not remember who Joban was or Beverly. But why was the Shasta clone so mean-spirited? Wayne did not possess those
traits.”

  “That I do not know. Perhaps he was brainwashed somehow by Captain Torgenson.”

  “Torgenson must be a clone also. The real Torgenson, no matter how authoritative he can be, would not have tried to kill a fellow captain. I wonder where the real Victor is.”

  “I don’t believe Torgenson is a clone. I did not have access to his brain scans. As far as I know, I was the only one supplying brain scans.”

  “Well, that settles it. You need to do that autopsy and see if you can figure out why the Shasta clone was acting so strange. Ultimately, it needs to be dismantled. You will also need to examine Victor Torgenson.”

  “Very well, sir. Please notify me when both are aboard.”

  Josh nodded his agreement and then added, “I will have Diane Pearson issue you a medical tablet configured with restrictions to all classified Gladiator and UGC files. You can have access to general medical information, UGC’s library, and other reference materials. You can also record your notes. In due course, Nurse Rugan can transfer them into the system’s confidential medical files.”

  “I appreciate that, sir,” responded Paul.

  Once again Josh headed for the door. Paul interrupted his departure. “Um, Captain, I should give you a complete examination. You are not looking like you are in peak condition.”

  “I have no time for an examination. I am fine.”

  “Well, I beg to differ,” replied Paul with a smirk, “but at least let me treat that cut on your forehead. Also I believe you are just about due for another antibiotic injection.”

  Captain Joshua Stoner gave his former buddy a grimacing stare, but then quickly consented and followed the doctor to the treatment room across the aisle from the office.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  June 28, 1900 Hours

  “Keep moving,” commanded Lieutenant Bonnie Shea.