“And what do we get in return?” Paul replied.
“Let me put it in simple terms for you. You provide me with immunity to the Outbreak and safety from becoming a Roe, and I give you something you need. A map to a certain location? A special one-of-a-kind place, where the hull of the Vanguard was entered, perhaps? Or I could just make that same offer to Governor Larissa of the Wilds. I hear she is offering high value on such information.”
“Governor Larissa?” Gretchen asked. “Do you mean Constable Larissa?”
“Oh, I see my information is already edifying for you. Not having knowledge can bring danger as well, can it not? Yes, Larissa is now Governor of the Wilds. She has placed a bounty on certain information. It seems she is angry over a certain injury she suffered. She has appointed Brock as her new Constable. Obviously, he is utterly loyal to her. Consider that the last free trade of information. I have much more that concerns you directly; however, you can stay ill informed if you wish. There are other places to trade information.”
Paul’s anger was rising, but he was unsure at what exactly. ‘Larissa as Governor?’ He shuddered at the thought of her having more power. However, he did not trust Klara at all. Her attitude was irritating to him, and Paul was ready to just walk away.
“How about we trade our credits for the information you have?” Gretchen suggested. “Then, if that information is valuable enough, we can consider a trade for the map?”
“What?” Paul ejected.
Klara ignored Paul and gave Gretchen a wily grin. “You have a Free Ranger’s heart, yes you do. We have an initial deal!”
Gretchen hesitantly handed the credits over to Klara who again put her hand on Gretchen’s shoulder while taking the credits.
Klara pocketed the credits and then said, “Here are the basics. There have been four lost shuttles, at least four, in the recent days. That is a far higher amount of losses than is typical. Ask your friend Brinley, if she returns safely here. Reports link those losses to the massacre of the Free Rangers in E Cylinder, outside of the habitat called the Wilds. I think you two know about that place.”
“Yes. Are you about to relate that we nearly froze there?” Paul said sarcastically. “So just how are the shuttle losses linked to us?”
“Reports, and my information sources are usually very accurate, reports say that after the previous Governor was assassinated,” Klara gazed deeply into Paul’s eyes as she said that. “After that incident, the CPO made Larissa Governor. The Central Planning Office apparently took a very dim view of the killing of a Governor. They have empowered Larissa to ‘take extraordinary measures’ against the so-called smugglers. They use the term ‘insurgents’ and ‘mutineers.’ Some of the actions Governor Larissa has taken are seen in a great increase in automacube activity coming from the Wilds. Those automacubes have been busy all around the exterior places in the hull. That action is not confined to areas around E Habitat. Several engineering automacubes met with; shall we call it an accident? They were segmented from the lattice on orders of Larissa, but in their logs were recorded some very interesting findings. That is where the information I have, the map, originated.” Klara folded her hands over her breasts and looked at Paul and Gretchen. “I can provide you with a topological route showing a way from here to that special location. Call it a map, if you will. I believe that is enough information, considering the small amount of credits you traded.”
“Are you saying you know where our scout ship is located, and how to get there?” Gretchen asked.
“Wait! Brinley says there have been no flights in or out of the hanger bays near the Wilds. Not since the explosions and massacre. So how did you get your information?” Paul inquired. His distrust for Klara was obvious.
“There are more ways around the Vanguard than just the shuttle flights. Some of those alternatives are looking much more desirable now that the shuttles are coming under attack. Opps! There I go giving away more information for free. I guess I just have a generous heart. You yourselves used the old transport system, to name but one alternative method of travel. Since I deal in information, it is less important to have physical storage capacity than accuracy. I have the map safely stored and you can have it for the price of immunity to the Outbreak. Just transfer the map into any automacube, and away you go. That is, in exchange for my immunity to the Outbreak.” Klara lowered her voice and eyes and then said, “But perhaps my assessment of your capabilities is incorrect? Maybe your medical kit is a phony and your stories are all lies?”
“We will need to discuss this between ourselves,” Gretchen stated. Paul nodded.
“Of course you will. And ask Brinley her thoughts on the matter. From what I understand she has personal experience that may shed light on this issue. She is scheduled to come back tomorrow, correct? May she have a safe flight. As to me, I have some time, so shall we say three days? After that, I just may have to have my associates in the Wilds seek out a reward from Governor Larissa for the information from those poor destroyed engineering automacubes.” Klara got up from the table. “I will be here every day. So you will know where to find me, or Governor Larissa will reward me for my information. Either way I will benefit, but will you?”
When Klara had walked some distance from Paul and Gretchen, she turned into a side room which was secluded and dark. Looking around to make sure no one saw or heard her, she took out a multiceiver and sent a quick message. “The tags are in place.”
6 who will listen?
Zoya cried as she floated in the darkness of the gravity conduit. She could perceive that she was moving, but had no idea where or when she would arrive. Her eyes stung terribly, and there was nothing to see anyway. She tried to hold her breath as long as possible, but finally had to breathe. The air was foul and she snapped her mouth closed and pinched off her nose after just a brief intake.
She could not hold her breath eternally, and so again she took a pant of air. She coughed and sputtered from the fetid stuff in the conduit. Her head throbbed and her muscles felt weak. All the physical sensations were but a minor concern compared to the thoughts of her mother.
Her body overrode her will and she gulped in some more air. Her lungs burned, and her mind was in anguish. She exhaled the putrid air and cried out, “No momma! I cannot lose you!”
The tears flowed out of her eyes and streaked across her face or floated away in the lack of gravity. Her stomach lurched as the toxins around her made her nauseated.
Zoya spit and tried not to vomit, but she could not hold it back. Dry heaves wracked her body and she took in another breath of air. Her head was spinning as she blacked out. ‘Momma I need you.’
The motion stopped which knocked her back to consciousness. She took a breath and it was clearer. She eagerly sucked in more air. Then she felt the slight tug of gravity and she settled down onto a cushiony floor, on her side, knees still drawn up, tears flowing.
There was a slithering sound and above her a bright beam of light shined in. Zoya squinted her eyes against the brilliance of the light.
“Girl, get out of there and quit messing around in the equipment!” A stern voice called to her. “Do you not know how dangerous it is to crawl into those places?”
Rough hands grabbed her and yanked her up and out of the gravity conduit.
She was blinking her eyes and rubbing away the tears while nearly gagging trying to breath in the cool and clear air.
“Rombert, look at the poor thing. She is terrified. She must have been trapped in there!” a somewhat more soothing voice stated.
“Bloody well stupid of her to get trapped. Nestor, you would not let any of your brood crawl around in there would you? Do children not know machinery is dangerous?”
“She is more woman than child,” the man replied.
The two men roughly set Zoya on the deck, but had to keep hold on her for she was unsteady. Her eyes were glazed over, and she could barely keep control of her bowels and bladder. She tried to speak, “Momma….mu…” Her a
ttempts to speak ended in a coughing fit.
“Yes, lass, you should get back to your momma. I will give her a stern talking to if I see her. What are we coming to if parents let their children crawl around in unsafe and dangerous places?” Rombert complained.
“Have a little heart man,” Nestor said. “The girl is clearly overcome by gas. I will take her to the medical unit. Do you recognize whose daughter she is?”
“I do not. It is not my duty to keep charge over other people’s wayward children, even if they are nearly grown all the way to adulthood. Not my problem I tell you. I had enough with my three sons. I know what would have happened to my boys if I caught them climbing into dysfunctional old equipment, I can tell you that!” Rombert stated.
Zoya wiped her eyes, and could see a bit more now. The two men who were holding her were both Free Rangers of the service personnel. She was in a service corridor which looked much like those which ran parallel to hanger bays.
“Momma? I must…” Zoya coughed and had a series of dry heaves.
Nestor pulled her close to himself and said, “You walk along with me girl, and I will take you to get help.” His strong arms supported her as she tried to walk. “The walking will clear your lungs. It is a good thing the safety alarm went off or we would never have opened up that old conduit.”
“Where…am I?” Zoya asked.
“The hanger bay is right outside here. The medical unit is not far away,” Nestor stated.
Zoya was walking better, but the vertigo was still bad, and her lungs felt scorched. “I must…momma!”
“First we take you to medical; they will contact your momma. I would not want to be her, that is for sure. She will have to answer some serious questions.”
“Roe?” Zoya croaked out.
“No dear. There are no Roe here. Your head is just muddled by the gas in the conduit. You will be clear soon enough.”
Nestor pushed through a door marked, ‘Medicinal Aeronautics V45’
The medical unit had three treatment tables. Nestor helped Zoya to get on to one of the treatment tables. He then said, “AI? Treat this poor child. She was found inside some machinery. It smelled terrible when we hoisted her out.”
A display screen illuminated behind the treatment table. A glowing globe of light surrounded Zoya and she struggled a bit, but then reclined. A monotone mechanical voice spoke from the display. “Admitted for treatment is an adolescent female. Assessment begun.”
The globe of light shifted a bit as the artificial intelligence system diagnosed Zoya’s condition.
“Momma?” Zoya asked.
“The AI will fix you right up. That is its job. This one is not connected to the lattice, so do not fear the CPO or any of that stuff. You can go find your momma afterward. No more fooling around in crawl spaces, you hear me!” Nestor tried to be stern but it did not come out so well.
He departed.
“Assessment completed. Adolescent female in baseline good health. Primary diagnosis: Gaseous Narcosis by inhalation of a mixture of hagathine, chlorine, phosgene, sulfurous quadoxide, hydrogen sulfide, nitrogen dioxide, ozone, and ammonia. This is consistent with description given by witness. Treatment begun.”
The globe of light shifted color and then several retractable arms came up and gently placed a mask over Zoya’s nose and mouth. When she struggled a bit, soft restraints held down her arms.
“My momma needs me. She has become a Roe! Please help me!” Zoya said as the mask was fitted on her.
“Please explain previous statement. When did you lose your mother to the infection?” the AI asked.
“Just before I came here. Just as I got in the conduit! We must go back and save her!” Zoya cried. “She just became a Roe. She is not the same. Momma!”
“Impossible. There are no Roe inside the safe zone. You are showing symptoms of sensory deprivation hallucinations. Please relax as treatment continues. The hallucinations can seem very real, but they are not an accurate reflection of reality. You have no signs of structural neuroanatomical deficits, no schizophrenic disorders. Therefore, your delusion is secondary to toxic gas inhalation and sensory deprivation.” The AI stated.
“I was not in the safe zone. My momma is a Roe now. I saw her change. And I need to save her! Please help me!” Zoya said.
“Secondary diagnosis: traumatic delusional thought disorder with hallucinations related to exposure to toxic vapors. Unusual finding is that patient suffers from a variant of Capgras Delusion. Prognosis excellent. Delusions expected to dissipate with restoration of physical health. Unable to refer to Mental Hygiene due to inability to link to lattice.
The air filling the mask warmed and comforted Zoya who fell into a deep sleep. Her breathing was regular and full as the medicated air filled her lungs and worked to detoxify her body. The AI administered other treatments into Zoya’s body so her fluids could be adjusted; organs flushed and holistic readjustment of her body’s status took place.
“Complete healing expected in ten hours.” The AI continued to monitor Zoya, but shut down the display screen and lowered the lights in the globe around her as she slept.
Zoya slept.
When she awoke she was on a bed in a different room than the treatment room she remembered. Her breathing was easy and comfortable. He eyes no longer stung. Her stomach was settled. She stretched a bit and then remembered.
“Momma! I must get to you.”
No one answered her call. No one else was in the small room. There was just the comfortable bed, a small stand, and the door.
She looked around. The room was tidy and neat. A folded set of coveralls, underwear, and shoes were in a drawer of the small stand near the bed. She dressed quickly, the garments fitting perfectly. Zoya stood up.
The door opened to the treatment room. There were no other patients, all three tables were empty.
“What do I do now? I need to get back to my momma,” Zoya stated.
The display screen over the nearest table lit up. “Your recovery is complete. You may return to your parents or guardians. Please depart from Medicinal Aeronautics V45.” The AI’s voice was emotionless and cold.
“But I do not know how to reach my momma,” Zoya stated.
“Your sociological and family dynamics are none of my concern. Please depart from Medicinal Aeronautics V45.”
The door to the medical unit opened and Zoya walked out. The corridors were of similar construction to her home safe zone, but had different colors of paint and subtle differences in style. She walked out and the door automatically closed behind her. She had never felt so lost in all her life.
7 mission to save a mother
Zoya was unsure where to go in this different safe zone. She walked away from the medical unit and found her way to the hanger bay. It was laid out very similar to the hanger bays she was used to, but with different people and varied specific details. She knew no one here.
She saw where the Trade Master’s office was located. It was obviously the Trade Master’s from the signs, the activity, and the general buzz of business around it. Zoya approached and placed her hand on the activation panel control located to the side of the office door.
“What can I do for you?” A strong woman’s voice came from within. The security door slid open.
“Trade Master?” Zoya asked. “I need a shuttle to go find my momma. She needs my help.”
“You need a shuttle?” The Trade Master asked without really looking up. This harried woman had almond-shaped brown eyes which were concentrating on the information displayed in front of her. Her silky, wavy, amber hair was worn chin length. She had a mechanic’s cap on which was well worn. Her cream-colored skin was marred by wrinkles and some scars on her hands.
“Yes, Trade Master. To find my momma.”
Finally the woman looked up. Her low forehead and large mouth were puzzled. Her wardrobe had a lot of tan and violet and fit her frame nicely. She looked over Zoya as if she were inspecting a shuttle. “I am not sure
which family you are part of. You do not look familiar. I know all my pilots and all their families. You must be part of the service personnel.”
“I can pilot a shuttle. I need to rescue my momma,” Zoya stated. “I came here…”
“I get it. You came here for Jodie’s Minstrel show and this is some sort of a practical joke. Well kid, leave. You are bothering me. I have enough trouble with a couple lost shuttles and do not need you pulling some prank or dare for your friends.” She dropped her eyes to the control board where her fingers flew across the controls as the display shifted quickly.
“No! I must have a shuttle!”
“Arancaya, get this annoyance out of my sight,” the Trade Master stated with a wave of dismissal at Zoya.
The Colony Ship Vanguard: The entire eight book series in one bundle Page 51
