Memory's Exile

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Memory's Exile Page 23

by Anna Gaffey


  A hard finger flicked the side of his head.

  “Focus and talk like a human being from this century,” Santos snapped. “Give me the rest on the protocol.”

  “Fine.” Jake rubbed his temple and glared at her. “He locks down each level so that no one can move around, and then he floods it with halodine. The protocol doesn’t cover it, and normally the system emits only a small concentration for decon purposes, but he must have figured out how to change the setting somehow. So he floods it, killing anything and anyone who might be there. How, don’t ask me. He’d need a higher level code.”

  Santos grimaced. “So what happens when Heart figures out there’s no emergency?”

  “The lower-level decon protocol commands wait for the initiator to end it, or for an emergency override code.”

  “Get me in,” Santos said. Kai opened a new layer and tapped rapidly.

  “Ready.”

  Santos pecked out her code with quick jabs. “That’s it.” The screen blurred, then scrolled a message:

  Override denied. Insufficient privileges. Please enter initiator code.

  Santos stared at the screen in disbelief. “My code can’t be insufficient.”

  “Give me a minute,” Kai began. Then he straightened and accessed another layer. “Wait. I’ve got level five sensors. No biotags, no one’s there. That’s a relief.”

  “Yes.” Santos rubbed her neck. “But the others?”

  “We got a cluster in the cargo bay. Newts, right?”

  “So contact them.”

  “I can’t,” Kai snapped. “And they haven’t been issued personal comms yet.”

  They stood in silence for a moment.

  “Evac plans?” Jake asked. “We could contact the Harmon and request emergency pickup—”

  Santos cut him off. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not? Why not? Your friend Griffin was messing around with our enviro controls and god knows what else, and you want to put people’s lives in his hands?”

  Had she really seen that? Jake wasn’t sure which of his memories were authentic, but the manic conversation, the frygun, the blue light of the supposed brain scan all stood out as possible melodramatic constructions to his current thinking. Then again, he’d no idea how reliable his current thinking was, either. What if his problems weren’t chip-related but due to something else? What if everyone was affected?

  Santos was still talking. “Did you check the enviro logs like I asked?”

  “Um.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “I haven’t exactly had a free moment, ma’am.” Jake pushed past Kai and tapped into the enviro control access logs. “Won’t take a second.”

  “Hey…” Kai protested.

  Santos sighed. “Jake. Now is really not the time.”

  “There! There’s your stupid access for your…stupid…oh.”

  Santos peered over his shoulder. “Level one. Interesting. Just as I said.”

  Con wouldn’t have. He couldn’t have. Jake couldn’t have misread him so terribly. He gripped the edge of the screen with both hands and stared at the inexorable burn of numbers, log codes, console numbers... “Wait.”

  He pointed at the console code number: L1A. “You said you saw Con accessing the console monitor outside the infirmary. Right?”

  “Ye-es.” Santos frowned. “Why?”

  “L1A corresponds to the machine inside the infirmary, not outside. So it couldn’t have been him. I don’t know what you saw.”

  “Then the enviro fritz…”

  “Was caused by someone inside the infirmary, yeah.” Jake’s triumph dimmed. “Well. Actually, that’s—”

  “Not good.” Santos shook herself. “You’re sure. No doubt?”

  “I’m sure.” Gods, but he hated that. What else could he say? “So, unless Carmichael had a completely unnoticed resurrection, we’re looking at Lindy, Nat, or Mei.”

  “I’m team Mei,” Kai muttered. “She has a higher code than Mick, too. Obvious choice.”

  Jake looked at Santos. “Well?”

  She rapped her knuckles gently against the comm screen. “She is the obvious choice, isn’t she? After what she did to you, to Carmichael…but there’s another problem. Why won’t my override code work? It should surpass both Mick’s and Mei’s. It’s the highest on the station. Or is it?”

  The knot in Jake’s stomach twisted tighter. “Of course not. Because there’s always medical—”

  “Override,” Santos finished, and nodded.

  “So Mick hacked Lindy’s code, somehow. Used it to initiate the protocol. Right?”

  “That’s the happy version.” Santos stared at the screen. “Gods, let’s hope so.”

  Kai shook his head, clearly disgusted. “Don’t tell me you think Lindy’s doing this? First, that’s ridiculous. Second, if Lindy lost it, she wouldn’t waste time with a weenie protocol like this, she’d just fucking vent us.”

  “I don’t know anything right now. But I’m making an exec decision. We need to check on her. And we need to physically stop Mick, and I’d prefer to stop him personally. He’s locked down all internal avenues of transit.” Santos chewed her lower lip. “So. Jake, you and I will need the emergency suits from the lab.”

  “We will?” Jake frowned.

  The monitor comm rang with feedback, startling them. A hushed voice faltered out over the tiny speaker.

  “Hello? Please, is anyone there?”

  Jake scarcely recognized the tremulous, fearful voice as that of Nat Ticonti.

  Santos launched herself at the monitor. “Nat? It’s Rachel. I thought you were with Doc—”

  “No, I’m not! Lindy ran out of sterilizing pads, and there was nothing in the ready-storage so she sent me down to the bay to get it from the new supplies.” She paused and sniffed. “And then I called the lift, and it wouldn’t come to level seven, it’s just stuck around five. And the infirmary comms won’t answer. Lindy’s not answering! I managed to get Mick on the comm, but he cut me off.”

  Santos was already tapping into the console’s hatch and tunnel control.

  “Rachel, what do I do?” Nat sounded near tears. “I think—I mean, I don’t see how it can be, but I think I saw Mei down here. I haven’t tried to raise her on the comm, either…”

  “Stay there, Nat.” Santos exhaled sharply. “Stay away from Boxhill. Stay away from both of them. We’re coming down.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Cross-commvid (quarterly fee schedule), Rachel Santos and Martinata Buchite-Santos:

  Martinata: But is it really legal for him to work with people?

  Rachel: Of course. He’s fine, mostly. He’s chipped.

  Martinata: Ah. Like a beast. But that’s for him, sweetheart. Punishment. Haven’t you heard the stories about ERPIC? They cut them open and drop in the chip and then stuff them in the Bends to watch what happens. Eventually they come out, but sweetie, it’s not pretty.

  Rachel: Well, Dr. Jeong still came out. They couldn’t afford to keep him in there forever.

  Martinata: Oh, he can’t be that valuable.

  Rachel: But he is. We’ve discovered close to twelve new kinds of flora, rock, and bacteria since he arrived, and he and Dr. Murakami have sparked some amazing developments for the Universal Donor project, for elemental electrical tubing, for the embryonic suspension, so much more.

  Martinata: Now, now, dear, save it for the Justification committee.

  Rachel: Look, I’m just saying, we’re contributing out here.

  Martinata: Oh, Rachel. Of course you are.

  Rachel: We’re not a dead end.

  Martinata: Of course not. But I’m sure, if you talked to Colonel Arezina, he could take care of any obstacles.

  Rachel: No.

  Martinata: You’re wasted out there. And we miss you. Your father was speaking to some of his old contacts the other day, and they seemed very positive about reinstatement–

  Rachel: I said no.
<
br />   Martinata: Always such a stubborn ox!

  Rachel: Yes. That’s me. Moo. I’ve signed on for another five years.

  Rachel: Mother?

  Rachel: Oh, Mother.

  Rachel: You know what? This is too expensive for your long bullshit silences. I’m signing off. Feel free to contact me through the regular commtext channels. I love you.

  Excerpt: streaming cross-commvid (buoy delays removed)

  20-25 May 2240

  Rachel Santos, 1LT (retired)

  Quartermaster

  United Worlds DS 2075-5 [Selas Station]

  Satellite 1H-24HM, 24HM System [updated: Eos]

  [Archived: United Governance Board tri-system mission records, Earth]

  1 November 2242 AEC

  20:42

  “But Lindy said your scan was perfect.” Santos frowned at him as she pulled on a pair of tight inner pressure gloves. The corridor outside Level 2’s airlock was just wide enough for them to suit up without elbowing each other in the face.

  Jake shook his head. “I don’t care what Lindy said. Obviously the scan missed something. Or she did. Whether by accident or on purpose, that’s in question. Ask Kai! Kai, what was I doing when you opened the lift?”

  “Gibbering,” Kai said cheerfully as he emptied out a supply case. “Curled up like a little kid. You probably had issues as a kid, too, didn’t you, Jake?”

  “I don’t know what we can do about it now. Check my CO2 filter.” Santos turned her back.

  “I do.” Jake gave it the eyeball. The tubing was clear and clean. “Do the EVA with Kai instead. Let me go up to the infirmary and let Lindy poke me in the lobes until she gives herself away or I have an aneurysm—”

  “Now yours.”

  The sound of his own breathing already echoed heavily in his ears, and Jake wasn’t even helmeted yet. The suit was tight and hot across his chest. In just moments, they would be out in the pressing black, with only a few thin layers of fabric, glass, and metal between them and nothing. He felt Santos’ hands run briskly over his oxygen pack. It was dense and cumbersome and already zinging discomfort down his spine.

  “You’re good to go.” She turned him around.

  “I shouldn’t. I’m not making this up, Rachel. You want me to have a damn freakfest and float out into space? Or I might KO you by accident.”

  “Pretty sure I can still take you.” Santos’ voice was dark with amusement.

  “In any case, I haven’t done a damned EVA since January. Are you sure this is really necessary?”

  “What should I be doing?” Kai hovered by the inner airlock controls, his hands filled with mag override plugs.

  “I need you to go into Heart and work on trying to block Mick out that way.” Santos pulled up her neoprene collar and cinched it. “But only remotely. Don’t go down to Control or any level below there.”

  “Not gonna argue with that one,” Kai muttered.

  “Get on the comm to Lindy and coordinate with her.” She poked him in the chest. “Don’t let your guard down. If Lindy’s gone bad on us, then I think you’ll be less vulnerable to her than Jake is. She won’t expect you to be watching her. And if you freak out,” she clapped Jake’s shoulder, “I’m more comfortable with that happening around me, for both your and Lindy’s sakes.”

  “What about the Harmon?” Jake asked. “Did you talk to Con?”

  “They’ve aborted all crew transfer attempts until I reinstate them,” Santos told him. “They’re fine with it. The group we saw in the cargo bay managed to launch the escape pods. The Harmon’s going to try to pick them up.”

  “But you saw the enviro log. It wasn’t him.”

  “Don’t worry about the containment codes,” she continued, addressing Kai and ignoring Jake. “I’ll jigger them. If I still can. I want you to get up to Medical after you comm Lindy. You’ll have to climb the access ladder like I did. It’s the only internal section Mick hasn’t sealed. Lock the infirmary down as best you can. Work with Lindy, and stay on your guard. Set your comm to emergency frequency R2 and check in with us every fifteen minutes. Got all that?” She pulled on her fishbowl helmet and lit the faceplate.

  “Yes.” Kai looked supremely less than thrilled. “Just don’t make me repeat it. What do I do with the newts? They’re cowering back in the lab.”

  “Damn it.” Santos pursed her lips. “Take them with you up to Medical.”

  “And what do I do if Lindy tries to KO me?”

  “Defend yourself.”

  Sighing, Jake tightened his collar and ducked his head into his helmet, fighting the brief rush of claustrophobia as it clunked down and latched into place around his neck. The pressure suit tightened around him, hissing, creating a seal.

  Beside him, Kai fastened a sack full of override plugs to Jake’s suit belt. He loaded one with a slap into a pressure tool, stuck it into Jake’s holster, then stepped back and tapped his commbud. Kai’s voice filled Jake’s helmet.

  “In case the inner hatches are bolted. He might not be down there yet, but you never know. You can always try the Gemini hack for the outer hatch if the protocol’s locked it down for entry, you remember that one? System’s old, but vulnerable.”

  “I’m not worried about the outer hatch,” Santos said drily. She waved a small orange brick: a pack of wave dissolvers. “We’ll just make a hole.”

  “Ha. Smart,” Jake said as brightly as he could manage. He tried not to flinch as she broke the wave pack in two and strapped half to his suit belt. Vacuum-safe since they had no incendiary nature, dissolvers still required exact parameters and a sonic wave radius of three meters unless you wanted to lose a limb or three. They’d never used them on Selas Station; in fact, he’d had no idea they even had any. Neither had Kai, judging from the sudden greasy sheen of his face.

  Jake waited until Santos was focused on securing her own pack to buttonhole Kai. “If anything happens—”

  “Yes?”

  Jake gritted his teeth, and then gave up. What the hell, he had to pass them to someone. “The tablet from the Warringer. It’s in my bag. Take it.”

  Kai fumbled in the suit’s sack. “There’re some gems here. Two of them.”

  “Take them, too.”

  “Okay.” Kai clutched the tech to his chest. He looked overwhelmed, his glasses slightly askew, sweat staining through the armpits of his lab coat. “What do I do with them?”

  Jake refastened the bag. “Nothing.”

  “But you said if anything happens—”

  “Right, and if anything does happen to me, Heart will give you access to them. Don’t do anything until then.”

  “Fine. Best of luck.” Kai backed away and all but threw himself through the access hatchway.

  Santos whispered in his ear through the suit’s radio links. “You read me, Jake?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  She opened the inner airlock doors, stepped inside and activated the magnets in her boots. “The EVA is necessary. With the lower access tunnels jammed and the lifts out of commission, there’s no other way down that’s quick enough.”

  “There’s always another way.”

  “Like what?” She barked a laugh. “You want to leave the station?”

  “I—well.” They could abandon the station. Leave Mick to carry on his little decon game, camp on board the Harmon or down on Selas in the habitat until help came from Earth. All decent, non-confrontational options. Jake didn’t offer any of them. It was Selas, and it was the station—not some sterile posting. It was home.

  And there was always Nat to think about, if he were thinking responsibly, like Santos. He stepped into the airlock alongside her.

  “Could you?”

  Jake scowled. “Yes, if it means not dying. I’m funny like that.”

  “Jake, we don’t have Earth comms. I had a very meaningful time wrangling a Harmon connection just now. The quarantine beacon is still broadcasting, and we don’t have a way to shut it down until comms are restored. And we can’t
expect any help from Earth until we contact them, or we go incommunicado another—”

  “Seventeen hours.”

  “I think we can take Mick out without hurting him. We don’t sit out here on our asses and wait for rescue.” Santos patted at the pack of dissolvers. “We do it ourselves.”

  And he could see that she wouldn’t include Con in any plans if she could help it. She still didn’t trust him, even though he hadn’t been the one to screw with the station systems. Jake wished he didn’t trust Con. There were too many unknown variables to allow such unthinking adherence, even to a friend and lover.

  Jake took several deep breaths. “Okay, then. We’ll do it your way.”

  He magnetized his boots and watched in apprehension as she keyed into the airlock controls. Santos liked to begin EVAs with a blast. In other words, jab the emergency airlock release and simultaneously release her boot magnets, so that the doors slammed clear and she went soaring out into the starry black. The last time she’d done it, Jake had ended up somewhere around Level 6 before he’d run out of piss and remembered his grapple suction. He was surprised to note that the memory evoked twin feelings of rage and twisting fondness.

  Fondness. Clearly his subconscious was convinced they were screwed.

  “We’d still have to wear the suits inside, even if you could manage to override the protocol’s hold on the doors.” Santos huffed loudly in his ear. “All that damn halodine won’t have drifted yet. So no offense to your and Kai’s hacking skills, Jake, but this is the quickest way down.”

  “Clearly you don’t remember my last EVA.” Jake’s face screen was fogging over.

  Santos shot him a grin. “Oh, but I do. Fun and fast as that was, let’s go standard this time.”

  She still popped the doors.

  Yelping, Jake managed a lucky grab at the bolted handles on the wall. He had a dizzying view of blackness, of shimmering blue containment shields and of green and white swirling clouds, but it was okay, he was okay, he was still hanging on, wasn’t he? He released his boots. The vacuum tugged him, and he swung out and around to face the comforting frosty grey of the station’s outer hull. The cold ache of space slid through the containment and enfolded him.

 

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