The Furnace

by Timothy S. Johnston

  I severed the connection before he could say it. His fake sympathy insulted me. If I ever saw him again, I would probably kill him.

  Shaheen had gone pale. “Is that it? Is it over?”

  I paused. There were some other options, but it might have already been too late to make use of them. “I have some connections at CCF HQ.”

  “Do you think they’ll know about the infection?”

  My brow creased. “Probably not. It’ll be kept quiet to prevent the general populace from getting too paranoid. But I do know some powerful people. I’ll try them first.” I thought for another minute as I sat in the chair before the comm console. The emergency lights on the station barely illuminated the command center. The radiation shield and life support were crucial. But were there other systems we could sacrifice? Something to conserve power? “Shaheen, can we cut a system to save the batteries for a bit longer, just in case?”

  She shrugged. “I guess I could cut the artificial gravity. It doesn’t use a lot of energy, but every little bit helps.”

  I grimaced. “If it’s the only choice...”

  “It is.”

  I sighed. “Fine. Do it.”

  “It’ll take a few minutes to bypass security. I’ll work on it while you make the calls.”

  I grunted in response and keyed in the ID code of a former contact on Earth.

  * * *

  Janette Lyshenko had given me assignments in Russia during my fourth year in Security Division. I had stayed in the region for close to eighteen months and had solved a large number of homicides for her. As her region’s capture rate had increased, so had its reputation. Tourism had grown toward the end of my stay, as had Lyshenko’s popularity with her superiors. In short, I had made her look good.

  “What help could she possibly be?” Shaheen asked, huddled next to me in the command center with one eye on the hatch. The other was on the security panel as she worked the codes to cut the gravity field.

  “It’s not so much Janette who can help as someone she’s related to.”

  “A relative?”

  “Don’t you recognize the name?”

  She thought for a moment before, “Admiral Lychka Lyshenko?” she gasped.

  I nodded. “That’s him. I helped them with a case a few years back. Someone had murdered a close friend of theirs.”

  A knowing smile lit her features. “They owe you one.”

  I nodded. “They owe me one.”

  Janette’s face appeared on the screen a minute later. She was bleary-eyed and frowned at the static-filled image. She’s aged, I thought as I studied the wrinkles under her eyes. Her hair had more gray in it than I remembered, and she didn’t have the vibrant aura she’d had before. How were things in her region, I wondered.

  “Sorry to wake you,” I said.

  Her face brightened immediately and she was back to her old self. “Tanner! Sorry, you’re hard to make out. Why are you wearing a vacsuit?”

  “Lyshenko. How are you?”

  “I’m all right. You?”

  I sighed. “Could be better.”

  She looked instantly worried. “What’s wrong?”

  I snorted. “Basically, in eight hours I’m going to die unless you and your husband can help.”

  * * *

  She listened to my story, eyes wide, as I told her what had happened on SOLEX One. The infection, I said, was a fatal one, but I assured her we had eliminated it. I didn’t say a thing about nanos or Malichauk’s plan, but I gave her enough information to make it all sound convincing.

  I grimaced inwardly at my lie.

  She promised to contact her husband and put me on hold. Shaheen and I exchanged nervous looks; she grasped my hand again and squeezed. She knew how difficult this was for me.

  A minute later, Lyshenko reappeared. She looked grim.

  “You’re not going to give me good news, are you?” I asked. I was a little shocked by that. Surely an admiral in the CCF could help us—all he had to do was contact the nearest military vessel and reroute it here. He wouldn’t even have to get permission from anyone. He was the one who gave permission for things of that nature! How could he not help?

  “Lychka seems to know what is going on at SOLEX.”

  I blinked. “He does?”

  “All the upper echelon do, apparently. He’s refusing to help, despite the feelings he has for you.” She looked crestfallen. “You say you have only eight hours?”

  I checked the readout that Shaheen pointed to. “Less now.”

  Her eyes welled up. “Damn him,” she hissed. “I will continue to plead for you, but he understands the consequences if the disease should escape.” Her eyes flicked to Shaheen and back again. “Are both of you healthy? No illness?”

  “We’re clean. We developed a test.”

  She nodded. “I will talk to Lychka again, but it does not look good. He refused to speak of the matter further.”

  “If you can’t convince him in a matter of minutes, Janette, then there’s little hope.”

  “I understand,” she whispered, and then a second later she dissolved into tears. “Godspeed, Tanner.” She cut the connection.

  * * *

  Shaheen’s jaw dropped. “Please tell me you have more contacts.”

  I grimaced. “The admiral was my best hope. I have others, but none as powerful. And if what he says is true—that the higher-ups are aware of the situation and refuse to help—then...” I swallowed. “Then we don’t have a chance.”

  “There’s no one else?”

  “What I’m saying is I don’t think it matters anymore. If my contacts are aware of what’s going on, there’s no way they’d disobey the Council to come get us.”

  “I can’t believe this,” she muttered.

  I looked into her face for a long moment. I didn’t want to completely dash her hopes, but I had expected this development.

  Despite that, I knew I couldn’t stop yet. I had to exhaust every option available. This had been my decision long before: to never give in to temptation, to never just let it end. Always fight, right down to the last bitter breath. And if all it took was a little more fishing for help over the comm, then I had to keep at it. Even though Brick wasn’t yet dead, I felt I owed it to Shaheen. And as long as we destroyed the infection, it would be okay to at least try.

  I punched a destination code into the communit and a new face appeared.

  Bryce Manning bolted upright. His obese form jiggled under his uniform; his three chins quivered as his mouth opened and closed in surprise. The model of the solar system on his desk squeaked as its planets spun crazily in their orbits.

  “Tanner!” he cried.

  I frowned as I studied his reaction. “Happy to see me?”

  Pause. Then, “Of course! How is the investigation going?” His hesitation was almost imperceptible, but it was there nonetheless. “I haven’t received a report—”

  “I need a ship here as soon as possible,” I said, cutting his bullshit short. “Can you do it?”

  He looked uneasy. “Er, I’m not quite—”

  “I’m a valuable commodity to the Confederacy and the CCF, Bryce.” I was trying to appeal to the value he placed on military assets. “I’m requesting assistance.”

  He stared at me for several long moments. He finally managed to wipe the look of shock from his face, and he turned grim. “I know about the infection,” he said without preamble. “I can’t get you off the station. Frankly, it’s impossible.”

  That was short and to the point. I exhaled. “How long have you known about it?”

  “I only just found out.”

  He was terrible at deception—worse, in fact, than most criminals I dealt with on a regular basis. “You knew about it all along, didn’t you?”
I asked in a clipped tone.

  “That’s not true! I assigned you to SOLEX to solve a murder. There was nothing—”

  “You told me the orders came from Earth. From the Council. They told you everything.”

  He feigned a hurt look. “I’m not sure—”

  I knotted a fist. Never stop pushing. “How does it feel to send someone to their death?”

  That hit a nerve. He managed to scowl and look guilty at the same time. “Tanner, please, I have to follow orders. Don’t hold it against—”

  “Listen,” I snapped. “I’m going to be gone in hours unless you help me.” I glanced at the time again. We were already past the deadline. Even if I convinced him to send a ship, chances were good that we would both be dead when it arrived.

  I continued, “You have that power, Bryce. Send a ship. Pick us up. We have a test that can confirm we’re not infected. I’ve already sent the details to Lassiter. You have the opportunity here to right a wrong.”

  He shifted in his chair uneasily. “If I did it, they would execute me. You know that.”

  “I can argue for you. I can help. The test will prove there’s no danger.”

  He jerked his head from side to side. “I’m sorry, I just can’t.” A look of immense pain crossed his face, and before I could say more, he cut the connection.

  I stared at the blank screen for several minutes. Shaheen sat beside me, utterly silent.

  I understood his reaction, I really did. Despite his physical appearance, he was the classic example of a military officer. He did not question his orders. Earth—perhaps the Council members themselves—had told him to send me to SOLEX, and he had done so without hesitation. I couldn’t hold it against him; after all, I was in the CCF too. I believed in the chain of command.

  I didn’t believe in just accepting death, however.

  I sighed.

  “I don’t think there’s a hope in hell, Shaheen,” I said finally.

  * * *

  I tried a few more people with the same results. Someone had clearly warned them.

  “Into the furnace,” I murmured. They had sent me to die. Even though I had deciphered the mystery—at a tremendous cost of lives and hardware—and had helped develop a test for the nanos, I was still being cast aside like so much refuse.

  Shaheen interrupted my thoughts. “What are our options?”

  I frowned. “I guess we should track down Brick and make sure the nanos are gone forever. We should also destroy the infected bodies.” I pondered the problem for a long moment. Finally, “We’ll have to burn them, I guess. Is there anything here on the station that can do that?”

  She pursed her lips. “We can always just fill a room with pure oxygen and place a flare next to the bodies. Simple but effective.”

  “I don’t think it’ll come to that,” a new voice said.

  I lunged to my feet.

  Brick stood in the hatch, knife in one hand, a club in the other.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” he growled, his face twisted. “Thinking of burning my body, are you?”

  We remained tight-lipped as we watched him. At my side, hopefully hidden from view, I curled my fingers around the table leg that Shaheen had used as a club.

  “Some help the CCF turned out to be,” he continued. “Everyone just wants us dead.”

  “Do you blame them?” I asked.

  “Of course!” he spat. “Don’t you?”

  “I can’t allow a new species to survive at the cost of another. Brick wouldn’t want that, either.”

  I stood, raised the weapon and took a step toward him. I put the comm console at my back and mentally and physically prepared myself for what was to come. “Go ahead,” I muttered to Shaheen with a gesture at the console.

  Her eyes widened.

  She reached forward and snapped a switch.

  Brick watched the exchange, his brow furrowed. “Stop what you’re doing!” he cried, but it was too late.

  Shaheen cut the gravity as we had planned; an instant later, the deck dropped out from under me.

  * * *

  I kicked off the console and shot toward Brick with the club outstretched. He floated off the deck with an expression of shock and surprise on his features. He couldn’t get away from me. I swung the club right at his helmet; it hit with a thwack that echoed over the communit.

  A second later we collided and spun into the corridor, limbs intertwined. He struggled to bring his knife to my neck; I clenched his wrist and tied up his arm. The club in his other hand fell away and we tumbled into the bulkhead heavily.

  I swung and again hit the side of his helmet. As if sensing he had lost the element of surprise and was losing the fight, he suddenly released his grip and clawed at the wall to drag himself away. He managed to stick his gloved fingers into a ventilation screen, and he yanked himself from my grasp. I reached for his foot, desperate to stop him...

  And missed by only a centimeter.

  Suddenly freed, he pulled himself away and spun crazily down the corridor.

  I turned to Shaheen. She had an anxious expression on her face. “I have to go after him,” I gasped. “I can’t let him get away again.” I was going to hunt him down and kill him once and for all. There was no more room for failure.

  She looked grave. “Do it.”

  * * *

  He headed for the tunnel to the outside.

  I groaned. He had clearly recognized my weakness out in space. I had almost lost it there earlier; no doubt he hoped it would happen again.

  He made it to the tunnel hatch and sealed it behind him. I struck at it with my palms as I hit and yelled for him to stop. I could see him through the viewport at the exterior hatch; he turned back to me.

  “I’ll see you outside, Inspector,” he sneered. He grabbed the edge of the frame and hauled himself around the corner and out to space.

  “Shit,” I muttered. I had to follow him. Hopefully, the weapon I had would be enough. There were no sharp edges, though—it was simply a blunt instrument. Brick had lost his club, but he presumably still had the blade.

  Manny’s code commanded the hatch open; I pulled myself through the tunnel and onto the hull of the station.

  * * *

  The fact that a ship would not be coming to rescue us was definitely on my mind. For that reason, I hesitated at the edge of the hatch. I knew there was no other choice, however. I had to eliminate the infection before a salvage or investigation team arrived. I didn’t want any spores floating around, waiting for someone to inadvertently inhale or touch them.

  Besides, an idea had occurred to me that might help us get off this damned station. It tickled at the periphery of my mind, like a distant memory that had just resurfaced and was difficult to grasp, but it was tangible and might be of some use. It was crazy, but it was possible.

  Once outside, I tucked the club into my belt and began the search for Brick. He had moved fast—clearly he had more experience at this than me—but I could see him as he pulled himself along a solar array, far from the station.

  I swallowed. We had severed the arrays from SOLEX when we ejected Modules D and F. At the edge of Module A, I stopped and looked across the chasm between the station and the array. The connected panels still floated nearby; however, twenty meters of open space now separated them from SOLEX.

  Grabbing a safety rung, I pulled myself close to the hull and squatted, knees bent, trying to judge the perfect angle at which to propel myself. The array was two hundred meters across, with smooth panels connected by a network of steel girders. If it were at a right angle to the station, I thought grimly, this would be a hell of a lot easier. It was at an oblique angle, however, and if I didn’t aim properly, I would skim right over the top of
the panels and sail off toward the sun and certain death.

  I knotted my fists and pushed off from the station.

  * * *

  I had judged correctly. The panels came up fast and I skidded along them, tumbling as I tried to grab something to stop my forward momentum. I finally managed to catch one of the support girders and pulled up suddenly. I bellowed in agony; I had dislocated my damn shoulder in the attempt to stop!

  Shit! I had been scared of bouncing off the panels, and rather than bringing myself to a halt slowly, using a number of different handholds as I moved over them, I had simply seized the first one I saw and locked my fingers around it. The result: an injury that could very well spell my death. Fighting would now be extremely difficult.

  I ground my teeth and looked up at Brick. He was a silhouette against the sun, and he was approaching fast. I pulled the club from my belt and prepared myself mentally. I was going to have to do this with the wrong hand.

  He lunged and tackled me in the midsection. I swung the club awkwardly, and it rebounded off his helmet, a harmless blow against fiberglass. I swung again and missed by a narrow margin as he dodged to the left—using his feet, locked under solar panels—and brought his knife around. He slashed and I instinctively brought my arm up as a shield.

  The blade sliced through the vacsuit. Air began to vent.

  He attacked again and I kicked at his wrist. Swearing in rage, I swung the club and watched as it knocked against his visor harmlessly. The glass was still cracked, but I had caused no more damage.

  Brick laughed. “Not much air left in your suit, Tanner!”

  Vapor spewed from my arm. Damn. It was a serious breach. If I didn’t deal with it soon, it would kill me.

  I hooked a foot under a solar panel, slammed the club down at my feet and felt the vibration up my legs as the panel shattered. I crouched down and grabbed at one of the fragments as he approached; he brandished the knife, his lips curled back in a snarl.

  “Your time is up,” he growled.

  “As long as the infection dies, it doesn’t much matter,” I muttered.