Shifting Infinity (ISF-Allion Book 2)

by Patty Jansen

  Karmee gave her the thumbs up. She was always ready. “Then let’s go in and get this guy under control.”

  Melati opened the door.

  A waft of moist air rose out of the darkness, laced with a faint scent of disinfectant. She turned on the light on her PCD and traced the spot of light over the empty floor, walls and ceiling. They had come out just in front of the security door, which stood open far enough to let a person through. Deep scratches marked the surface.

  There was a lot of glass on the floor. First she didn’t know where it came from, but then she noticed: the light fittings. Of course he had smashed all the lights. Even in the lab, confused constructs often became light-sensitive when there was something wrong with them.

  The door to the room that she and Dr Chee had used for their computers stood open. A brief glimpse showed equipment on the floor. God, did they even know how expensive these BCI machines were?

  Dr Chee would not be impressed. Oh no, he wouldn’t.

  Slowly, she made her way towards the offices, taking care where she put her feet. With this being the outer ring of the habitat, the floor didn’t curve as much as it did on the upper levels, and she could see the battery-operated emergency lights a good distance ahead. Bloodied footprints marked the otherwise pristine floor.

  A small sound came from a room off the side. Melati ducked to the wall. Karmee and the others did the same. They waited and listened. Karmee held the tranquiliser in both hands, pointing it at an open door.

  For quite some time, nothing happened. Melati tried to listen, but the only thing she heard was the roaring of blood in her ears. And as usual, her imagination ran wild and started showing her the worst things that could happen. Moshi passed out on the floor, covered in his own blood or vomit, with his eyes rolled back in his head. And next to him, the dismembered body of some prison warden, or Lieutenant Kool.

  She pushed the thoughts away. He needed urgent care. They had no time to play games.

  She called softly. “Moshi?”

  There was no reply.

  Again. “Moshi. I’m here to help you.”

  Was there the tiniest of sounds inside the room?

  Karmee pointed at the door, mouthing, “In there.”

  Melati nodded.

  She gestured to Karmee. “Cover me.”

  Together, they crossed to the door, describing an arc so that they would stay out of view of anyone inside the room.

  Melati went to the door opening and directed the light from her PCD inside. The little pool of light showed crates and racks with prison clothing. There was no sign of activity.

  She pointed, mouthing, “I’m going to go in.”

  The Pfitzinger guards came to either side of the doorway. One already had his gun out of its bracket.

  Melati motioned for him to stay back and keep quiet.

  She stood, clearly visible, in the doorway.

  Nothing happened.

  She walked a few paces into the room and stopped. Listened, holding her breath. Karmee was just behind her and she sensed movement further behind where the guards stood in the doorway.

  She said again, “Moshi? I’m here to help you.”

  Nothing.

  She turned the PCD so that the screen faced her, and activated the infrared scan. She swept the beam through the room. The screen showed dark grey fuzzy shapes that were not recognisable as the furniture in the room. Then: a lighter spot. That had to be him, although the spot didn’t look like a person.

  Slowly, she progressed into the room, keeping an eye on the dot on the screen. It moved. In the dark, there came a sound of something dragging over the floor.

  She spoke clearly. “It’s Melati. Put down any weapon you have and I promise not to harm you.”

  Silence. Although she sensed the sound of soft breathing.

  “Come out with your hands up. I have three soldiers with me, all of them armed. If you come forward calmly, no one will harm you.”

  A soft sniffling sound came from somewhere in the dark.

  She directed the light towards the sound and finally found him, swaying while sitting on his knees between two crates. He froze in the harsh light that several sources directed at his face. His eyes widened. In his white-knuckled hands, he clutched the metal pole from a drip stand in his hands and appeared to be trying to cover up his nudity with it. His skin was surprisingly pale in the light, smeared with blood from where he had cut himself with glass. More than anything, Melati felt sorry for him.

  His expression was empty. This was a mere shell of the man she had seen before.

  “Please, Mobashar . . . Moshi, let us help you.”

  He yelled words in a language she didn’t know, probably Centrasian, which she had understood while in his mind but that was now just a collection of strange sounds to her. His voice sounded raw.

  The guards had also entered the room and fanned out against the back wall.

  Melati inched forward, holding out her hands. “Let us help you.”

  “They’re all dogs!” His eyes met hers, wide. “You’re the only good person. Why are you not covering your face? The unbelievers will blemish your beauty. They will dishonour you, rape you! They’re dogs, all of them. Come with me. I’ll take you to a safe place away from the heathens.”

  “Take my hand.” Melati took a step closer.

  Karmee was at the ready, holding the tranquiliser gun.

  Another step closer.

  His face shone with sweat. Melati was disturbed by the empty look in his eyes. She had never seen violent terminal failure. In the papers she had read, the condition was described as giving the sufferers superhuman strength before leading to total collapse and death.

  The trick was to get out of this situation without doing too much damage to him, or her, or doing any more damage to Lieutenant Kool’s precious room.

  “Moshi, get up and come with me before you harm yourself.” She took another step closer.

  He didn’t move, but opened his mouth and let out a wail that sounded like an animal’s. A wet track of drool ran from his mouth into his beard. The sound made her shiver.

  “Shhh, be quiet. Calm down. I’m here to look after you.” She dropped to her knees so that her face was level with his. The glow of the lights directed at him reflected in the sweat on his chest. He had a bit of chest hair, but not half as much as rumour told her to expect. They always called the New Hyderabad men hairy apes. He was quite lean with the faint hint of muscles. She didn’t really want to look at any part of his body other than his face. As a believer, he would be utterly ashamed that he let himself be caught naked. But he was not unpleasant to look at. It was distracting, and embarrassing.

  For what seemed like a very long time, he sat quietly, holding the metal pole, swaying from side to side. Melati couldn’t work out if he stared at her or if his vision was unfocused. His chest went up and down with shallow breaths.

  Did he even see or hear her?

  She crept a bit closer, shuffling on her knees. There was glass on the floor, so she had to be careful.

  He didn’t react to her presence at all, so she shuffled a bit closer. A little bit closer and she would be able to touch him, and maybe she could get him to calm down and Karmee’s weapon would not be necessary.

  He looked up into the light. He said something in Centrasian. The tone of his voice became aggressive. His muscles tensed.

  Uh-oh. Melati shuffled back. “Cover me,” she said to Karmee.

  A lot of things happened at the same time.

  He scrambled to his feet and lunged for her.

  Karmee discharged the gun, but missed because of his speed. The two Pfitzingers also fired, but missed as well.

  Melati retreated, but he was too fast and grabbed hold of her arm. His grip was like iron. His nails dug into the soft flesh on the underside of her arm. She cried with the pain.

  He twisted her arm and spun her around, so that she now faced the guards and Karmee with the gun. Their lights blinded
her.

  Everyone was yelling at the same time. Two spots of light flashed where both guards turned up the beam strength on their guns.

  “Calm down, everyone!” Melati shouted.

  A moment of tense silence passed in which the only sound was that of panting breaths.

  Moshi’s heart was beating so furiously that she could feel it in the places where he touched her: his hands, his arms and his chest. God, he stank. Karmee held the tranquiliser in both hands. The light indicated that it was still charging up. The Pfitzinger guards held their guns at the ready.

  Melati was sure that the moment a significant part of him was exposed, any of them would shoot. She had to make sure that it was Karmee who delivered the shot.

  Lieutenant Kool’s voice came from someone’s earpiece. “What the fuck is going on? What was that racket about?”

  The owner of the earpiece yelled, “He’s got the New Jakarta chick.”

  And Karmee, being Karmee, found it necessary to tell him off for saying that. “You call her that, and you’re surprised that the New Jakarta tier 2 won’t dance to your music?”

  God, Melati loved Karmee.

  Moshi was trembling and his hands were so sweaty that his grip was getting slippery. He wasn’t going to last much longer. She could wait until he passed out, and likely died within minutes, or she could . . .

  The light on Karmee’s gun went green.

  Melati crouched down suddenly to get her backside under the level of his waist. She hung onto his arm while lifting him on her back using his momentum and the muscles in her legs to lift him up. She’d learned this fighting trick as a child and few people, even adult men, were prepared for it.

  While he lay across her back, Karmee pressed the trigger. A sizzling beam of light shot from the gun and engulfed him. Melati was still wearing her headphones and her PCD on her belt. Something connected and shorted out. A bolt of light tore through the room, crackling and bouncing off the ceiling, floor and walls and leaving behind trails of sparks. The metal of the floor vibrated like a gong each time it hit.

  Melati fell and Moshi fell half on top of her. Oof, he was heavy.

  Karmee was yelling for the others to get out, but Melati was caught under Moshi’s weight. She covered her head with her arms. Underneath her, the floor vibrated with thudding feet.

  Then the crazy lightning bolt hit a control panel and exploded into millions of sparks that scattered through the room, and went out.

  The room plunged into complete darkness. Karmee swore. “Holy shit. What kind of gun is this? I only hit him, nothing else.”

  Someone’s PCD light went on and a pool of glow tracked over the ceiling, walls and floor.

  “What the hell was that?” one of the Pfitzingers asked.

  “It wasn’t from the tranquiliser gun,” Melati said. She’d fallen sideways, and Moshi lay next to her on the floor. She wormed her legs out from under him, so that she could crouch and feel his pulse. It was weak. “I think something else escaped from him.”

  Karmee rushed to her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, but we need to get him into care as soon as possible.”

  The Pfitzinger shone his light on Moshi. He lay on his stomach, and his brown-skinned back moved up and down with his shallow breaths.

  The guard laughed. “Urgh, look at that hairy arse.”

  Melati took off her jacket and draped it over the offending body part. If ever he regained consciousness, she knew that it would shame him deeply to know that he’d run around naked, because that was not something a true man of God would do.

  Someone brought a first aid kit and put it next to her. She ripped open the packaging of a breathing mask, slipped the straps over his head and attached the oxygen bottle.

  “You’re bleeding,” Karmee said.

  Melati looked at her arm. Karmee was right. A glass cut probably. Whatever, she didn’t care.

  A couple of nurses came out of the lift with a stretcher, accompanied by Dr Chee and Lieutenant Kool. Dr Chee was saying in a voice quivering with anger, “. . . object to refusing him treatment. We are bound by the convention of human rights to treat him, and treat him, I will.”

  “I don’t want him in my sector any longer than absolutely necessary,” Lieutenant Kool said. “He will be put on the Repentance as soon as it swings by and he should be executed as soon as possible.”

  God, they were still arguing over this. Melati rose, but she was overcome with an attack of dizziness.

  Her vision went blurry and contracted, as if she were looking through a tunnel. What was happening to her? It was not as if she had never seen blood and gore before. She had to lean forward, but by now, her vision had gone black.

  In the darkness came a strong flash, and a voice spoke slow words that were too disturbed by crackling static to understand. The voice sounded female and rough, not like the computerised voice that reported on the ship’s vitals.

  Melati said, “What’s this? Who am I talking to?”

  The voice spoke again, repeating the static-addled words that Melati still couldn’t understand.

  She said, “Who are you? Can you hear me?”

  There was no response.

  Chapter 10

  * * *

  ALL OF A SUDDEN, many people were around her. The wardens, Dr Chee, the nurses. Jas was there, too. Everyone was talking and calling for help and a stretcher. Melati pushed away hands trying to pull her up. “Just let me recover for a bit.”

  “Are you all right?” Dr Chee’s expression was disturbed. He glanced at her uniform. “You’re hurt.”

  Melati looked. The side of her uniform was covered in blood. “I don’t think it’s mine. I’m a bit shaken, but I’m fine.” Her head felt woolly and she had trouble concentrating enough to listen to all those voices in the corridor. In amongst the racket, she thought she could still hear the woman’s voice.

  Where had it come from?

  Jas said, “Let me take you upstairs.”

  “Really, I’m fine. Look after him. He’s much worse off.”

  Dr Chee had already dropped to his knees and was examining the prisoner.

  Melati said, “Do you think we’ll be able to help him here?”

  He shook his head. “He’s going to die soon. We need to get out of him what we can, and quickly.” He lowered his voice. “After this, even if he survives, I don’t think that if we appeal against him receiving the death penalty that we have much of a chance. We need to get out of him whatever he knows before the Correctional Department can ship him out of here.”

  Moshi’s face was relaxed, as if he was asleep, unaware of the battle that went on about his life.

  “The BCI machine has been damaged.”

  He nodded, his expression grave.

  The lift door opened again, letting a number of people into the hallway. It was still dark, so Melati didn’t see who they were, but they walked in an angry, purposeful way and there was something familiar about one of the silhouettes.

  “He’s coming to the hospital, and that’s my final word on the subject.” That was Sandy Cocaro’s voice.

  Lieutenant Kool protested. “But you can’t just . . .”

  “He is coming to the hospital. Over and out.”

  “I’ll send an objection to . . .”

  “Do that. In fact, go to your office and do that right now, so that you’re out of my way.”

  “I protest. I’m in charge of—”

  She turned around and faced him. “Shut up, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She outranked him, even if he was Fleet and she was Force, and she could not order him to do things. “But I protest . . .”

  Cocaro walked past him into the room. “I will send my technicians to fix your pathetic lights.” She snorted and went on in a less dismissive tone. “Melati, you’re going to take this man upstairs and treat him there.”

  “But what about Dolchova? She ordered me to keep him here. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”r />
  “Let me handle the trouble. You’re under the Doc’s orders and he is under my orders. The Doc has told me about the things you’ve found out. I’ve waited and waited to get this type of information from her personnel, but she seems to play the obstruction game for her own political aims. If she wants to play that game, I can play it, too. Keep working. I’ll send guards if you need them to take him upstairs.”

  Melati didn’t have to be told twice. She helped the nurses lift Moshi onto the trolley. He was out of the room before Lieutenant Kool had finished protesting, and when the lift doors closed on the dark and glass-strewn corridor, relief flooded her.

  Up in the lab, her eyes had to get used to the increased level of light.

  Moshi already lay on the bed closest to Dr Chee’s workstation and he sat at his computer scrolling through files.

  A nurse was cleaning his skin so that she could attach the leads. She had covered him with a blanket. Melati’s jacket hung, bloodied and dirty, over the foot of the bed.

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked Dr Chee.

  “Go to the other station and check this feed.” The screen before him displayed what looked like the new module that he planned to use to override the broken one.

  Melati did as he asked, but while she was checking the integrity and coherence of the file, an alarm rang.

  Melati’s heart jumped. “What’s that?” Please not another equipment malfunction.

  Dr Chee got up and checked his PCD on his desk. “Dolchova called a meeting for all crew,” he said.

  “We can’t both leave. He’ll die.”

  “You go and see what it’s about. I’ll stay here and start on the procedure.”

  “I want to watch.”

  “Then you stay here and I’ll go. The module is ready. The process is the same as we use for the constructs.”

  Melati hesitated. “What if it goes wrong?”

  “A nurse will stay here.”