"'How does a monster say hello?'"
"Raarrhh!" Cairn clawed the air when he said it. "Remember how it pissed him off that we never laughed at that? Like we were in the mood to laugh at anything?"
Scott nodded grimly.
"Know what else he said? He kept saying he was going to come get you again."
Scott frowned. "Who's that?"
"Vore." Cairn's grin had a nasty edge. "He used to say that all the time. He always said you were his favorite."
The thought of it made Scott's guts twist, but he tried not to show it. "Now here we are. Together again."
"That's right." Cairn sauntered over and stood in front of him. "Two old friends, reunited after all these years. Only this time, instead of trying to save each other, we're trying to kill each other."
"Speak for yourself," said Scott.
Cairn laughed. "So you weren't trying to kill me down on Shard then?"
"That's right," said Scott. "I didn't know it was you."
"Ah," said Cairn. "If you had known, you wouldn't have tried to stop me from attacking your squad?"
"Stopping you and killing you are two different things," said Scott. "Anyway, that's not how it happened. Neither of us died on Shard, and now we're reunited after all those years."
"It must be destiny." Cairn's voice oozed sarcasm.
"Why not?" Scott shrugged. "Otherwise, it's an awfully big coincidence, don't you think? That after all this time, in all the vastness of space, we ended up in the same place, shooting at each other?"
Cairn laughed. "You're forgetting the third possibility. What if it's not destiny, and it's not a coincidence, either?"
Scott scowled. "What do you mean?"
Cairn laughed again, turned on his heel, and marched back to his cot. "That's not the question you came here to ask, though, is it?" He threw himself down on the cot and crossed one leg over the other. "So what's the big question, Sol? The one that determines your next move?"
"You already seem to have an idea what it is," said Scott. "Why don't you just go ahead and save me the trouble of asking?"
"Okay, but I'm warning you," said Cairn. "You won't like it."
Scott spread his arms wide. "Try me."
"All right." Cairn turned his head to look at Scott. "The people I work for...the ones who control what you call the Red Battlenauts. Your next best chance at finding them will be Oberon, in the Sigma Zeta Gamma system."
"Oberon." Scott narrowed his eyes. "Why are you telling me this?" He wanted to believe Cairn's cooperation was genuine, but the way Cairn had been acting made him think it probably wasn't.
"For old times' sake." Cairn grinned and winked.
"So what else can you tell me about this information?" said Scott. "What did you mean when you said I wouldn't like it?"
Cairn raised his eyebrows. "That part's a surprise." With a laugh, he rolled his head on the pillow to look at the ceiling instead of at Scott.
"It doesn't have to be," said Scott. "Come on, tell me."
"If I were you," said Cairn, "I'd take what you have and get the hell out. You don't want to kill the golden goose, do you?"
Scott sighed. He needed to know more, but Cairn was shutting down on him. Maybe it would be smart to continue the questioning another day. "All right," he said. "If that's how you want to play it."
"Very glad we're on the same page," said Cairn. "Now how about letting me catch some shuteye?"
"After you answer one more question," said Scott. "How do I even know there's any truth in what you've told me?"
Cairn looked at him with a darkly glittering gaze. "Because I know you can't stop what's going to happen. If anything, I want you to see it happen. So it's in my interest to tell you the truth."
Scott stared at him for a long moment. "I wouldn't be too sure that we can't stop it."
"Whatever you say." Cairn winked and returned his gaze to the ceiling. "But you need to remember, I won't be pulling your ass to safety this time. We're not on the same side anymore, Sol."
"But we could be," said Scott.
"Oh, sure," said Cairn. "Anytime you're ready to join up with my people, let me know. I'll be happy to put in a good word for you."
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Scott said sarcastically, and then he left the cell.
*****
"Oberon." Scott snapped out the word as soon as the cell door closed behind him. "We need to go to Oberon."
Perseid and Rexis were waiting for him in the outer room of the brig, both looking grim with arms crossed over their chests. They also looked slightly bleary--no surprise, since it was the middle of the night. The guards must have called them, as promised, when Scott entered the cell...though where the guards were at that moment, Scott didn't know.
"He just decided to tell you that?" Perseid nodded in the direction of the cell door.
"I finally figured out who he is," said Scott. "Then he told me."
"Just like that," said Perseid.
"Pretty much."
"And we know the information's reliable how?" said Rexis.
Scott pointed at the cell. "He claims it's in his interest to tell us. He says it doesn't matter if we know, because we can't stop what's going to happen there. He wants us to see it happen, whatever it is."
Perseid rubbed his eyes hard. "And that's all he gave you? That's all you got out of him?"
"His identity, too. I got that." Scott shrugged.
Rexis frowned and tipped her head to one side. "So who is he?"
"Name's Cairn Barrie," said Scott. "He and I...we were both abducted when we were kids by a man named Larvis Vore. Vore murdered our parents and took us to a secret bunker in the wilderness.
"I was thirteen, and Cairn was seven. We escaped and fled through the Iridess Chasm, but Vore caught up with us. In the process of saving me, Cairn sacrificed his own life...I thought. But it turns out he survived."
"Now here he is," said Perseid. "Awfully big coincidence."
Scott nodded. "That's what I said."
"He didn't say anything else about what's supposed to happen at Oberon?" asked Rexis.
"No," said Scott. "Maybe I can get it out of him next time we talk."
"Or maybe not," said Perseid. "I wouldn't give up the intel that easily. Would you?"
Scott shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "I keep hoping I might be able to get through to him because of what we went through as kids. But I don't know. He seems pretty angry at the way things worked out."
"I agree it's worth playing that card, though," said Rexis. "Just don't get your hopes up."
"Damnit." Perseid paced across the room and stopped at the door of Cairn's cell. "We're being led around by the nose here. We don't have a choice."
"We have to go to Oberon," said Rexis. "We have to try to stop what might be about to happen there."
"Or fight our way clear of whatever trap the Reds have waiting for us." Perseid snorted and turned from the door. "If there's even a trap at all and not just a patch of empty space that's on the opposite side of the quadrant from where the real action's happening."
Rexis nodded in agreement. "Oberon's our only shot."
"At least until we come up with better intel," said Scott. "We'll keep examining the Red debris from Shard, won't we?"
"Absolutely," said Perseid. "Trane seems to be closing in on a breakthrough as we speak. He's been working day and night on it."
"Then maybe we'll find another lead before we go too far in the wrong direction," said Rexis.
Scott looked from Rexis to Perseid and back. "If it's the wrong direction."
"You know what I'm thinking?" Perseid ran a finger along the scar on his left cheek. "This is all too perfect. It might have been a setup from the start, meant to flush us out. Meant to flush you out in particular, Corporal--the one man who could see through their cloaking technology."
"Why else would Cairn turn up like this?" said Rexis. "At just the right time in just the right place?"
Scott scowled. "But how would they know to send him? How would they know I was the one who could see through their cloaking tech?"
"It must have gotten back to them from our own people." Rexis raised her eyebrows. "The same Commonwealth conspiracy that must have been protecting Cairn's identity all this time."
Scott thought about it. "Maybe you're right." Planting his hands on his hips, he stared at the floor. "But if that's the case, if traitors within the Commonwealth armed forces know our every move, do we even have a chance of beating the Reds?"
"Do you intend to back out if we don't?" said Perseid.
Scott straightened. "Hell no."
"Ask anyone on this ship, and they'll give you the same answer," said Perseid. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"
"Hell yes," said Scott.
"Then let's quit pissing around." Perseid marched toward the door. "I'll be on the Command Deck if you need me, ordering the crew to set course for Oberon."
"Aye, sir," said Scott.
Perseid paused as the door slid open in front of him. "Debrief at oh-seven-hundred hours, Corporal."
"I'll be there," said Scott.
With that, Perseid stormed through the open door and disappeared into the corridor beyond.
*****
Chapter 24
Scott lay in bed--his own, assigned bunk, not Donna's--and tried to force himself to sleep. The bunkroom was quiet for once, no Trane or Abby present to snore up a storm...but he still couldn't manage to doze off.
He couldn't stop thinking about Cairn Barrie and the conversation they'd had. It seemed unreal, like something out of a dream--something he couldn't seem to wrap his head around.
The dead boy had returned...just as Scott himself had come back to life so many years ago. The two of them had a deep connection, forged in Iridess Chasm and strengthened by sacrifice on Penitent Peak. But now they were working against each other in a time of war, battling for the highest stakes imaginable.
How exactly had it come to this? How had Cairn ended up with the Reds? What did he know that he wasn't telling? Scott wished he knew.
Cairn seemed committed to the Red cause, whatever that was. So why had he given up Oberon? What was his plan?
Even as Scott lay in his bunk, the Sun Tzu was racing toward Oberon at top speed. What would the Diamondbacks find when they arrived? What were their odds of success when they still hadn't managed to penetrate the Reds' cloaking technology?
There were too many questions. They whirled through his mind like spinning plates, keeping him awake even though he was physically exhausted.
The only comforting thoughts he had were about Donna and the way she'd squeezed his hand. Finally, he had genuine hope for her recovery; though her condition hadn't changed since the squeeze, he believed in his heart that it was only a matter of time until she awoke.
What would happen after that, he couldn't say. He'd had some doubts earlier about where they might be headed, but none of that would matter unless Donna recovered.
Meanwhile, he had to help the team get ready for Oberon. There was so much work to do, he felt guilty about being in his rack at all.
So what the flux? Why keep wasting time if the chances of falling asleep were next to nil?
Rolling over, Scott swung his feet off the bunk and dropped them to the cold floor. Rising from his rack, he yawned and stretched, then gathered his razor and towel and headed off to the showers. Perseid had said the debrief was set for oh-seven-hundred hours, which was two and a half hours away. Plenty of time to get ready and get coffee.
At least he wouldn't be late.
*****
"You appear to be one of a kind, Corporal Scott," said Doctor Beauchamp, kicking off the debriefing. "Among the crew of this ship, that is."
Scott, who was seated at the long table in the conference room, lowered the coffee cup from which he'd been about to drink. All seven people in the room were staring at him with keen interest at that moment.
"When faced with a Red Battlenaut or Red personnel, you exhibit a unique response." Beauchamp touched the edge of the table, and holographic images sprang to life--a chart on either side of her, each with a jagged line plotted from left to right. "This is one example. Here we see the response of a member of the squad to the appearance of a Red Battlenaut on the surface of Shard." She gestured at the chart to the left of her. "The response is mapped as a combination of EEG, EKG, galvanic skin response, microbiome fluctuations, and other measurements." She gestured at the chart on the right. "And this is Corporal Scott's response."
Scott stared. The jagged line on his chart was clearly elevated, running much higher than the line on the chart of the other squad member.
"Holy plang," said Abby. "Big difference."
Beauchamp turned and traced the line on the anonymous squad member's chart. "As you can see, the response remains depressed throughout the encounter. All indicators are low, suggesting diminished stress to the subject's systems." Turning to Scott's chart, she traced the line there, lingering at the apex. "Meanwhile, Corporal Scott underwent considerable stress, reaching a peak far above the high point of the other subject."
"Which tells us what, exactly?" said Khalil.
"I'm getting to that." Beauchamp touched the table's edge, and the charts were replaced. "Here we have Corporal Scott's response at a different moment." She gestured at the chart on her right. "And this is the aggregate response of the rest of the squad." She traced the plotted line on the chart on her left. "Again, the squad's response suggests a lack of sensory stimulation. Corporal Scott's response, however, is consistently elevated." She ran her finger along the line on Scott's chart and nodded. "This definitively shows that there is a difference in how sensory information is received and processed between Corporal Scott and the others."
"And you've figured out what caused this difference?" said Major Perseid.
Beauchamp touched the table, and the charts went away. "We performed a multiphasic analysis of Corporal Scott, mapping all levels of his physiology from anatomical to subatomic to quantum." She touched the table, and a 3-D wireframe figure of a man appeared on her right, surrounded by text and data. "We did the same for all other members of the expedition to Shard." This time, six wireframe figures appeared on her left--four male, two female.
"But you did a full workup on Corporal Scott before the mission," said Rexis. "And you compared it to the rest of the crew at that time."
"Correct." Beauchamp smiled. "But we did not have the same data at our disposal. We did not have hard numbers on physiological states during Red encounters." Beauchamp nodded. "This time, we did. Charted responses suggested directions for deeper analysis--specifically, the nervous and immune systems. Eventually, we found a concrete difference that manifested only during Red intervention--an immune reaction blocking chemical receptors in neurons associated with sensory input. Essentially, whenever the subject sees Red artifacts or personnel, a firewall in his or her brain blocks the image, effectively rendering it invisible."
"That's a pretty damn sophisticated immune response," said Feinberg.
"But what mechanism triggers it?" said Khalil. "The sight of a Red is the cue, but what reacts to that cue and switches on the firewall?"
"This." Beauchamp touched the table, and the image of a bumpy, thorny sphere appeared in front of her, big as a fist, tinted red. "A virus."
"That's impossible," said Feinberg. "Are you trying to tell us that a virus detects and blocks all sensory input related to the Reds?"
"Viruses plural." Beauchamp gestured at Trane, who sat just around the corner of the table from her. "And that is where he comes in."
"Merci, Doctor." Trane got to his feet and straightened his uniform. "Indeed, there is more than one virus at work here. The Red Battlenaut armor retrieved from Shard is coated with matrices of viral particles. After intense study, we realized that this virus becomes active in proximity to the firewall virus. It serves as a catalyst, signaling the firewall virus to trigge
r the immune response that blocks Red sensory input."
"Wait a minute." Khalil frowned. "That's impossible, isn't it? One virus can't signal another over a distance."
Trane thumped his fist on the table and grinned. "It can if they're quantum entangled."
"Seriously?" said Feinberg. "Quantum entangled viruses?"
"It works for molecules." Trane shrugged. "Why not viruses?"
Rexis narrowed her eyes and leaned forward to stare at the image of the virus. "So what you're saying is, thanks to quantum entanglement, the catalyst virus can affect the firewall virus over great distances."
"Causing the firewall virus to reconfigure itself and initiate an immune response," said Trane. "Until then, the firewall virus disguises itself as a dormant rhinovirus variant within the host."
"Rhinovirus," said Rexis. "The common cold, you mean."
Trane nodded. "Which is why it went undetected until we were able to observe its reconfigured state during Red exposure."
"So this firewall virus," said Scott. "I don't have it?"
"Correct," said Beauchamp. "But you're the only one in the squad who doesn't. Perhaps you have a natural immunity."
Scott frowned. "Then how did everyone else get it? How did the Reds manage to spread it?"
"We don't know." Beauchamp sighed. "We've just started to understand it."
"We don't know how to stop it yet, either," said Trane. "We're working to engineer a viral or nanotech-based countermeasure, but that research is still in its early stages."
Perseid got up from his chair and paced along the length of the table to where Beauchamp and Trane were standing. "I guess I don't have to tell you how soon we need a solution. We're due to arrive at Oberon in two days."
"We're aware the clock is ticking," said Beauchamp.
"God only knows what situation we're flying into," said Perseid. "Having more than one person able to see the Reds would vastly improve our odds."
Resist the Red Battlenaut Page 16
