by John Walker
“Gorman,” Heat said, turning to the corporal. “We need to see who’s left in there.”
“Okay.” Gorman stepped into the hall and Heat’s jaw dropped. “Anyone still alive in there?” He paced to the edge of the hall and peeked in. A gun went off and he ducked back, then returned fire. Someone grunted. “Clear.”
“Jesus Christ!” Heat hurried over to him. “I didn’t mean for you to walk out here and tempt them with your face.”
Gorman shrugged. “They were so enthusiastic before the grenades, I figured they must’ve either fled or died. That guy I just shot was missing his leg.”
The room looked like a charnel house. Body parts lay scattered against the walls and blood coated the floor. The close proximity meant the only ones who lived would’ve had to make it to the opposite hallway and it didn’t seem like they stopped when they got there. Whatever defenders remained, they were deeper inside.
“Okay, keep moving.” Heat gestured. “According to the schematics, we’ll be passing through some living quarters before reaching the labs. Keep sharp in the event someone’s hiding out in there. Let’s form up with two people watching our backs. Anderson and Revel, you guys are volunteered.”
“Thanks, Sarge,” Anderson muttered.
“Better than being in front.” Heat patted Gorman’s shoulder. “Since you’re so confident, you can take point.”
“Might as well. No one else is going to get it done.” Gorman grinned as he headed down the hall, aiming his weapon as he went. The others fell in behind him with Heat standing just to the left. This gave him a good view and a decent firing angle. “I know, I know. I’ll stay to the right.”
“You read my mind, man.”
“It’s like a kid’s book, so not entirely difficult.”
“Wow.” Heat shook his head. “Can we pretend we’re on a mission for a few minutes?”
“I heard movement,” Anderson said. “Up ahead of you guys.”
“How the hell can you hear anything?” Revel asked. “My ears feel like someone put a full marching band in my head and wound them up for go.”
“I plugged my ears,” Anderson replied. “And I definitely heard something.”
“Yeah, well,” Gorman said, “they aren’t coming out to introduce themselves. Wait …” He aimed and fired, causing a yelp down the hall. “I stand corrected.”
Heat squinted into his night vision and barely saw a form writhe on the ground before going still. “Good eyes. Damn.”
“Meh.” Gorman continued on, holding his rifle up to his shoulder.
They passed by a series of doors, each supposedly leading to living quarters. Gorman paused at the end, crouching by the body and checking the pulse. He shook his head, scanned the area and moved into the room.
People had been there recently. Cards occupied a table and someone’s smoldering cigar remained behind. Heat directed the men to cover the four exits and put Anderson and Revel on the hallway they’d just come from. “If anyone comes out of those quarters, take them out. We don’t need someone coming up on our rear.”
Gorman leaned against the wall near one of the exits and drew out his tablet, checking the schematics. Heat joined him. The lab was less than a hundred yards away. It took up two stories so when they entered, they’d be up above on a catwalk and have to make their way down to the terminals.
An elevator on the far east side of the base allowed access but it was security coded to DNA apparently. Only a researcher had access to it. Heat knew that there were more guards somewhere in the base. They didn’t want to mess with the marines but they had to be regrouping for a push.
“Evans,” Heat spoke into his com, “how’re things looking out there?”
“Boring,” Evans replied. “Place is quiet and I’ve got nothing for miles. You’re still clean. I assume you were worried about incoming air transport or something?”
“Exactly.”
“Nothing. If they called for help, their backup won’t be here in a hurry.”
Heat turned to Gorman and gestured toward the door. “It’s the last push.” His head began to ache as he considered what they would find, the computers and devices they would be hacking into. Anderson could handle it and the guards hadn’t proven to be much of a threat so he didn’t know why stress impacted him so badly.
He hadn’t been nervous about a mission in years. What about this hit him so hard? Interface. Vincent. Bradford. Gabriel. Cassandra. Orb. The words danced through his mind, flying by like he was reading subtitles over his own thoughts. They kept jumping to the forefront, causing his vision to blur.
“You okay?” Gorman asked. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks …” Heat grunted, pressing his left hand against the side of his head. “I’ve got one hell of a head ache, man. This is bad … Holy shit, it’s bad.”
“Revel, get over here,” Gorman said. “Check him out.”
“I’m good …” Heat muttered. “I’m … I should be fine …”
“Like hell.” Gorman forced Heat to look him in the eyes. “Did you get hit in the head? Do you think he might be concussed?”
“The gunfire maybe.” Revel pulled out a scanner and ran it over Heat. “I don’t see any abnormalities. Not even inflammation. According to this, you shouldn’t be in pain sir.”
Gorman smirked. “You hear that, Heat? It’s mental.”
“Screw you.” Heat shook his head, trying to cast off the pain. It took a few moments for his vision to clear and a moment later, he felt discomfort rather than agony. “Christ … I don’t know what the hell happened but that was bad. Maybe I’m allergic to that shitty cigar over there.
“Want me to put it out?” Revel asked.
“Okay, enough with the jokes.” Heat gestured to the door. “I want that data so we can get the hell out of here. Gorman’s on point again.”
“Yeah, send the guy who isn’t wincing like a baby.” Gorman smiled but it was obvious he was worried. Heat couldn’t blame him, he was feeling some pretty serious anxiety over his sudden head problems too. The words remained in the back of his mind, constantly threatening to come to the forefront.
Hold it together for another half hour, man! You’re almost done!
***
Chapter 7
Gil leaned against the pillar and closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax. His mind wandered freely, drifting toward the concepts that he seemed so desperate to explore. He fixated first on the word Gnosis, which was not in the Pahxin vocabulary nor any other he’d seen from all his exploration of ancient worlds.
Where did it come from? Gil asked the question as if querying his brain, treating it like a computer program. What does it mean?
The response came immediately, a thought popping before him with the same alacrity of a terminal. Gnosis means ‘knowledge’. It comes from the Greek people of Earth in the Sol system. It is the name of a starship of human origin.
Gil never heard of such a place or a population. How had it come to his head now? And why? He tried another question. Does this have to do with the terminal I’m attempting to access on this planet?
Again, the answer came immediately. Negative. This is information you already possess.
“I’m not sure I like this newfound ability to chat with myself,” Gil muttered aloud. Who or what is Cassandra Alexander?
A senior agent for the Applied Intelligence Association of Earth. She has worked on Trindisha technology, what they call Orbs.
“Trindishas … These humans have one?” Gil frowned as his tablet began to beep. He’d gained access to the terminal. It was time to start finding the data Quinda was so desperate for. It meant putting aside his queries for a moment but at least he had a solid start. What it meant might take a while longer to discover.
Perhaps humanity visited this world at some point and left behind traces that I’m picking up but I feel as if I know this Cassandra person. I wonder what Thayne has to do with it. Another answer popped into his head. Doctor Rindala was rescued by the
humans from Tol’An hands. He is how you became connected to the Gnosis.
Gil thought of more questions but they left the moment he saw what the Kalrawv Group was after. The culture of that world had developed a highly volatile form of energy, a generator that produced considerable power but they couldn’t contain it. Looks an awful lot like a bomb to me. And that’s precisely what these mercenaries wanted.
They certainly weren’t looking to improve upon the design and offer it up to the colonies who needed it or even Pahxin developers who might employ it on the home world. No, they were dealing in weapons again and this one would be perfect. An orbital strike with a large enough concentration might even devastate an entire city.
Damn it, Quinda. Why? Gil looked around, feeling frustrated and trapped by the situation. He couldn’t give them the formula, that was certain but getting out of there … that was another situation entirely. If he didn’t produce what they wanted, he would be killed. But something dawned on him.
How do they even know what they have?
Their buffoons couldn’t get into the terminal so they couldn’t have possibly known. Then it made sense. If they scanned the planet and did some decent surveys, which they had people for, they knew what devastated the different parts of the planet. The original fools who inhabited the place must’ve tried to use their invention.
The Kalrawv Group then narrowed down the possible places where data would be stored and settled on one of the only facilities left standing on the planet’s surface. And there they were, in the temple where Pahxin eating monsters often roamed. Just absolutely perfect. This was not worth the fee they agreed to.
But the fact they willingly paid it made sense.
This has happened before. Gil’s thought gave him a sense of déjà vu, a moment that made him feel sick to his stomach. He had to lean against the pillar to fend it off. You have done this before. This is a memory. A dream. Some kind of simulation of your past as you bridge the interface.
“Interface what?” Gil asked aloud. “What could possibly cause such a lucid and vivid world? A memory … There’s no way. How is this possible?”
“How’s what possible?” Quinda asked. The voice startled Gil and he nearly jumped out of his skin. “What’s your progress?”
“I’m still trying to break their interface,” Gil lied. “And I thought I told you to be patient. When I’ve got the information, I’ll come find you.”
“We’re running out of time here. Scans are picking up a massive storm and I’ve got reports of native activity to the north and south. They’ve seen our shuttles and aren’t happy about the interruption.”
“I’m faster than anyone you could find on the market,” Gil said. “You know full well I don’t want to be here. I made it quite clear so I am hurrying!”
“Don’t think I trust you,” Quinda said as he paced away. “You may be the best archaeologist out there but the reason we come to you is because you’re incapable of holding down a real position. Everyone knows you’re a thief, liar and addict. Nothing would make me happier than never seeing you again.”
“If it helps, the feeling is mutual,” Gil called after him. His mind raced through his options of how to escape. The shuttle contained a hyperspace module. If he got it off the ground, he could get away but there was another ship flying around out there. Taking care of that would be the trick.
The storm might be used to my advantage. Gil considered the possibility. If he locked down the terminal, ensured that no one could access the data without him, he’d preserve the data and get off the planet. He could then flee back to the station where he might find some help dealing with Kalrawv. Unless Quinda doesn’t make it off this planet.
He couldn’t do anything about the ship in orbit but if they lost their expedition, they might forget about him. Then he could go back to his life without worrying about the threat they represented. He might not have to deal with them again. Though the financial impact didn’t make him happy, they were miserable clients.
I just need a weapon and I can get out of here. Those buffoons who were on the terminal earlier could help. They were both armed and if he called for their assistance, they’d be distracted with the terminal. He could then take them out, hijack the shuttle and flee but it required solid timing.
Checking his tablet, he set a timer for when the storm would arrive. Between that and the natives, he was looking at a reasonable getaway strategy. Risky, but possible. He’d been through far tighter spots in his life and this one in particular might not even be the worst of them.
Then I can figure out all this Gnosis nonsense.
***
“Commander Bowman is checking the people in the lab,” Gabriel reported to Desmond on a secure channel from his office. “My people are going over the others right now. We’re limiting the scope of the breach rapidly and the good news is no one’s tried to access any unauthorized areas.”
“I’m glad to hear that at least,” Desmond said. “Salina still hasn’t managed to decode the message. I’m guessing it’ll be too late by the time she does though.”
“May I be of assistance?” The woman’s voice made Gabriel spin in place, drawing his pistol. Before it could be brought to bear, a hand caught his hand and kept the weapon pointed at the wall. Christina Dawson tilted her head as he scowled at her. “My, that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I approached you.”
“How’d you sneak in here?” Gabriel asked. “This is my private office … and it was locked.”
“Was it?” Christina shrugged. “I’m an agent with the AIA and I believe you’re looking for a traitor. I take that personally considering how much work Cassie and I did to ensure this didn’t happen. I’d like to help and I want in now so give me what you’ve got. Otherwise, I have to open my own investigation, which would be kind of a waste of time if you think about it.”
“You have no authority on this ship,” Gabriel replied. “I’m the head of security here and I don’t answer to you.”
“Then ask your captain.” Christina stepped back. “But be quick about it. As you just said, we’re probably running out of time.”
“What’s going on?” Desmond asked.
“Agent Dawson is here and would like to help.” Gabriel kept it short and simple. “I’d like to bring her up to speed and employ her services if you don’t mind.”
“It’s your investigation,” Desmond said. “Get back to me if you find anything. We’ve locked down the bridge for now and Engineering is in the same boat. Good luck.”
Gabriel tossed the communicator on the desk and turned to Christina. “Alright, Secret Agent, what exactly do you have and how can you help? I’d like a good reason why I shouldn’t have you tossed in the brig and especially why I just made the captain think your involvement was my idea.”
Christina smirked. “Nice. I’m glad to see we’re all on the same team here. Anyway, what’ve you done to vet these people so far? How many are left?”
“One of my men was going through their records when they all came on board but he was injured and couldn’t finish. We had a redundant technician doing it as well. They didn’t find any discrepancies. I personally vetted Commander Bowman who is going to check all the people in the research lab. Your boss is in there too, if you don’t already know.”
“Yes, and I’m at least eighty percent certain that Dulain isn’t a traitor,” Christina said. Gabriel scowled at her, drawing an eye roll. “I was kidding. Anyway, sorry. I won’t be funny again. Did you use the scanner to tell if they were lying? That’s how you vetted people, right? Or did you have something more sophisticated?”
“Just the scanner,” Gabriel replied. “And what’s more sophisticated?”
“I’ve got some tools.” Christina smiled. “Okay, keep doing what you’re doing. Maintain lockdowns on all major systems and stations. I’ll be back as soon as I can with news. Oh …” She approached and gestured to his tablet. “Shall we vet me really fast? Just in case I’m such a bra
zen idiot as to come in here before causing trouble?”
Gabriel asked her the same questions as Vincent and she passed the test.
“There you go.” Christina frowned. “Tell me, how did your man become injured?”
“The doctor doesn’t know,” Gabriel replied. “It could’ve been an attack, but he was out. Apparently, there’s brain activity and such.”
Christina tilted her head. “And when exactly did it happen?”
“I can’t say for sure. I wasn’t with him.”
“Around the time of the experiment?”
“I found him after they initiated it.” Gabriel took a step forward. “Why?”
“Because that’s what happened to Agent Alexander and Gil Vaedra.” Christina tapped her leg. “I wonder if he was effected as well. Hell, I wonder if anyone else might’ve been. We have two tasks we need to accomplish now. I’ll work on the traitor angle but I need you to have some of your men check everyone else.”
“For what?”
“Catatonia, like your friend.” Christina shrugged. “This might have to do with the Orb and if so, we need to let Doctor Harper and her people know right away. In fact, I’d bring your soldier down to the research lab. They can probably do more for him than your doctor. If I were a betting woman, I’d say he needs to be with the others to finish the experiment.”
“I’d like to know how he got involved in it at all. He wasn’t anywhere near them.”
Christina backed toward the door. “Alien technology so far beyond the realm of our understanding, it’s insane likely doesn’t adhere to our sense of what makes sense. That’s why I decided to just be an intelligence agent. So much easier than playing with all those strange devices all day long. Ciao for now.”
Gabriel watched as the door closed behind her, shaking his head. I really hate the AIA sometimes. He got on his com and connected with several of the marines throughout the ship, putting them to the task of searching the ship for anyone that might’ve passed out alone. Thinking about other crewmen who hadn’t been discovered annoyed him.
