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Unknown Earth Volume 2

Page 8

by Frank Wallace


  This would require considerably more study than this trip could provide, he realises. His enthusiasm is not matched by Amira.

  “Amira, you should really read this report, it’s unbelievable,” he says, handing the datapad to her. She quickly glances over it, before handing it back.

  “You should read my report. It’s all about how I nearly got killed by a giant bird” she says.

  “It’s not a bird. Based on our limited scans, genetically, it’s more akin-“

  “I don’t care. If I see one again, it’ll be plasma” she cuts him off. He chuckles a little. Connecting who she is and what he wants is all that’s required.

  “It might be easier to figure out how to kill these beings if you understand their biological weaknesses” he offers, waggling the pad.

  “Don’t pull your games with me, Kounde” she says. But she does take the pad again, grinning as she does. She doesn’t have time to read it as the shuttle thuds horribly, shaking a little before settling down. An unusually rough landing.

  “Sorry!” Angela shouts from the cockpit.

  “What happened there?” Amira asks.

  “My hand slipped as I was landing. Sorry, I’ve been training a lot of the chicks on shuttle runs, guess I’ve not slept enough” she jokes.

  “If you are having trouble sleeping, I’ll issue a relaxant,” Samuel says, as they get up to leave. Angela comes in to see them off.

  “Nah, don’t worry about me. I’ll sleep when you are having your meeting!” she says with a cheery wave. Amira leads Samuel down some tight halls into one of the many large auditoriums of the facility. A swooping dome roof covers the huge room. As per the Imperial standard, the decoration is sparse and uninspiring, with only the occasional synthetic plant breaking up the otherwise beige walls. Underneath the centre, a cube of screens slowly rotates. Many smaller meeting circles, partitioned off from each other, fill the floor area. The meeting circle partitions are coloured in identifying lights, strongly standing out against the blandness of the area. Amira locates their assigned colour and they make their way over, finding a couple of IPF constables and a civilian already waiting.

  “If you were planning to bring up this recent event, it might need to wait,” Amira says to Samuel quietly. They take a couple of seats.

  “Water?” The civilian asks, filling two cups from a jug on the table. Samuel takes a cup with a thankful nod. Amira takes hers and puts it on the table.

  “Do either of you know why we are here?” the civilian asks, giving two cups of water to the constables. They both eagerly gulp away.

  “Some manner of inter-organisational regulation thing, I believe,” Samuel says.

  “Hmm. Well, I’ll go see when we can start” the civilian says, rushing off. Samuel is slightly amused at his enthusiasm. A young man, this is probably his first such meeting and he isn’t aware of how tedious they can become. He goes to take a drink, but Amira grabs his wrist. Her eyes narrow as she directs Samuel’s attention to the two constables. They both stand relaxed against the partition wall. Extremely relaxed. Samuel notices the cups on the floor and takes a closer look at the pair. They seem awake, but their mouths hang open and their eyes look glazed over.

  It’s unmistakable. They’ve been drugged.

  “Did you bring a weapon?” Amira whispers. Samuel stares at her.

  “Of course, I didn’t” He snaps. She frowns but says nothing. Samuel goes over to the constables to examine them. He puts his hands on either side of the nearest constable’s head, gently moving it to get the light closer to his eyes.

  “Are you awake? Respond if you hear what I’m saying” he says. The man’s pupils are enlarged to a concerning degree.

  “Yeaaaaah” he eventually mumbles. Samuel does the same with the other constable, receiving an equally slurred response. Clearly, they were meant to remain awake for some reason. Amira pulls out a pistol and presses herself against the inside of the partition, peeking out to see if anyone was nearby. A gong sound reverberates around the room, drawing their attention. It is enough to cause Amira to lower her pistol for a split second.

  “Drop it!” a voice says. The civilian returns, this time with both a gun of his own and a larger companion who also has a pistol. With extreme reluctance, Amira puts her pistol down. The smaller man goes over and scoops it up, running greedy eyes over the weapon.

  “An ISF issue handgun? I could get ten thousand Rons for this” he jokes to his friend.

  “I wouldn’t count on keeping that weapon,” Amira retorts. The two men share a chuckle, obviously not too concerned. Samuel looks back at the constables. They are in no condition to fight. He desperately hopes Amira doesn’t lose her cool. He can see she’s right at the edge already. Her legs are bent slightly, one foot slightly in front of the other. She has very slowly lowered her body. She’s coiled back like a cobra, waiting for the right moment to strike. The larger man jabs his gun towards the rotating screens above, as a face appears. A heavily scarred face, with almost the entire right side of the man’s otherwise handsome face covered in small grooves. Discharge burns from a faulty Paris Drive, Samuel concludes, as the most likely cause. Puzzling, as the damage could easily be fixed with a regenerator.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please pay attention. I am Andres Orion. If you do not know who I am, then I’m sorry to inform you that you have been led here under false pretences. We’re here for two reasons. Firstly, to collect some data that may be useful to us. Secondly, to all the police and military officers here, this is a warning to you. Our so-called protectors. We have numbers, we have weapons, and we will force improvements if you refuse to do your jobs. We are losing money, ships and even our lives in some cases. Unlike you, I will keep my promises. If you behave, we will leave this centre when the data sweep is complete, and you will be untouched. Misbehave, and you will leave this place in a box” Andres says. He speaks calmly, yet with conviction. Samuel sees the larger man looking up with reverence in his eyes. The smaller man keeps his eyes and his weapon, fixed firmly on Amira.

  “You heard Mr Orion. Just sit quietly and you can go back to living in luxury” he sneers. Amira says nothing, but Samuel can see the wheels turning in her head. She’s calculating exactly how to take out both men and take a weapon.

  She may get them all killed.

  One of the constables stumbles away from the wall towards the men. They quickly go from concern to amusement when he falls over and struggles to sit up. Samuel goes over to support the man.

  “What did you drug him with?” he asks.

  “Don’t worry, it’s a special compound. Only his motor functions are affected, he can hear and understand everything. It wears off in an hour or so” the smaller man replies.

  “So don’t cause trouble” the larger man interjects angrily.

  “I have no intention of causing trouble, Sir,” Samuel says, helping the constable to his feet. The larger man snorts.

  “You’re one of them,” he says, pointing at Amira, “just another soldier looking out for yourself”

  “I am not a soldier, I’m a doctor. You are the one with the gun, my friend” Samuel says.

  “Oh really? You’ve never shot anyone?” the larger man says, nudging his friend and laughing.

  “I never have, and I never will” Samuel booms. The very idea offends him.

  “Is that right? If you had a gun now, you wouldn’t try to shoot us?” the smaller man asks through laughter.

  “I would rather die than kill someone,” Samuel says. The laughter dies down. The two men whisper among themselves. The larger one motions a third person over, an equally imposing man.

  “Even if someone else’s life was in danger?” the smaller man asks, raising an eyebrow. Samuel nods firmly. In his mind, a principle with criterion attached isn’t a principle at all. The smaller man slides Amira’s pistol over to him.

  �
��Pick it up,” he says. Samuel refuses. The smaller man walks up to the constable and points the barrel of his weapon at the constable’s forehead. The constable looks confused but is too drugged to move.

  “Pick up the pistol, or I’ll burn his head off,” he says. Again, Samuel shakes his head. Rage instantly overcomes the man. He bashes his rifle against the constable’s face, forcing the man to the floor.

  “What’s wrong with you? Pick it up or I’ll kill him right here!” the man shouts, incensed by Samuel’s passiveness. He glares at Samuel, who refuses to even flinch.

  The man opens fire.

  “No!” Amira roars. In a flash she leaps at the smaller man, simultaneously slamming her hand against his nose and knocking the rifle out of his hands towards Samuel. Before he even hits the floor, she has already moved to the larger man. She locks both hands on his gun, but he is quicker to react than the smaller man, steeling himself and planting his feet. They begin to struggle for possession of the weapon.

  “Sam, the gun, now!” she barks, her voice throaty with exertion. Just as the third man launches himself at her, Amira bends herself back, causing the larger man to lose balance. She flips him to the ground and somehow spins in time to block a punch from the third man. She plants her legs in such a position as to block his attempts to move, but with the element of surprise gone, his larger size and strength become a formidable challenge. She strains to prevent him from reaching his gun.

  “Now!” she repeats. Samuel looks down at the gun resting near his feet. He swore he would never use a weapon to hurt another person. Only special dispensation due to his surgical skill had allowed him into the military in the first place. No. He couldn’t break his oath.

  “I can’t” he whispers. He stands frozen watching the sight. As Amira twists and turns, flashing out punches, eventually the man starts to weaken. As she does, one of the other men jumps back in. Amira bodily slams the onrushing attacker into the other man, and the two wildly spin off in opposite directions. She snatches the lone remaining attacker in a chokehold. Samuel watches him desperately struggle for air, but Samuel knows he won’t escape. A groan draws Samuel’s attention away from the fight. The assailant nearest his feet has regained consciousness and is reaching for his weapon. Horrified, Samuel juts a futile hand out.

  “Amira!” Is all he can say before the man fires. Amira screams as the shot hits her in the upper back. She crumples to the floor, and the other man lands with a thud next to her, gasping for air. Samuel turns away and falls to his knees. He tightly presses his hands against his face. This was only supposed to be a simple meeting. He had…has so much respect for Amira as an officer. The crew will be devastated. How will he ever be able to face them?

  A soft groan causes him to whip around. Amira shifts slightly, and relief washes over Samuel. The largest man swings a large boot into her stomach. She grunts in pain.

  “That bitch broke my nose!” the smaller man whines, wiping blood on his sleeve. He stumbles to his feet and they both slam vicious boots into her a few times as the third man recuperates.

  “Stop, you animals!” Samuel pleads. The smaller man laughs heartily, coming back over and picking up Amira’s pistol.

  “Wonder why we are doing this? You can’t even protect each other, what chance have we got?” he exclaims.

  “You didn’t have to kill that man” Samuel sobs. He can’t even muster the energy to wipe his tears. The small man jabs a finger in his face.

  “How many traders have died in the past year alone? How many ships have we lost! You people won’t protect us, so you deserve nothing from us” he spits, with real venom in his voice. A chiming sound draws their attention to the rotating screens. Andres Orion’s face reappears.

  “My friends, we have what we came for. It is time to leave. To the rest, keep this in mind. We are only doing what you refuse to do. You won’t protect us, so we protect ourselves. We have no wish to be violent, but if you test us, you and your families will regret it. You’ve been warned” he says, drawing supportive shouts from across the auditorium. The larger man gives Amira a final stomp before leaving. The smaller man looks at the dead constable. Samuel notices what might be a flash of regret on his face before he turns and follows his friend. Samuel crawls over to Amira. She is curled up into a ball, obviously wracked with intense pain. Pain Samuel cannot reduce without medical equipment. The scorched smell of flesh fills his nostrils. Her entire upper back is seared, up to her neck and reaching around to her lower ribs on her right side. The rifle she was shot with must have had a lower energy focus setting. It means the plasma discharge was comparable to acid, with excess energy cascading through the shot and burning whatever it touches. ISF weapons tended to have tightly controlled discharge regulations as not to cause unnecessary suffering. Not something these terrorists cared about, Samuel realises with utter dismay.

  “I’m so sorry, Amira” he breathes. Having activated an emergency beacon, he could do nothing but wait for help.

  The Boomslang is amongst the first ships to return. Angela was thankfully quick to get them off the station, although the basic medical equipment on the shuttle was only enough to render Amira unconscious. A small mercy. The returning crews were astonished to learn what had happened right under their noses. Apparently, Orion and his group had departed on a repurposed IGF troop transport parked right on the hull of the outpost. Somehow no-one had even noticed it was there. More importantly, if they had access to IGF resources, perhaps they were even more serious a threat than first assumed.

  Having quickly set up Amira on the ship’s Med-Bay, Samuel and his team quickly set to work repairing the extensive damage to her body. Samuel had studiously avoided giving details as to what happened. People didn’t need to know, he deluded himself. The Captain arrived quickly after they had started.

  “Oh, Amira. I can’t believe this could happen. They must have had knowledge of the meeting” Nemmy says.

  “I do not know. I’d rather focus on helping Amira” Samuel quickly replies.

  “Oh, of course, of course,” Nemmy said. She softly places a hand on his forearm. “I’m glad you were there to help her, Samuel,” she says with a warm smile. Samuel quickly averts his gaze. How could he look her in the eye? What can he say to explain?

  Amira shifts suddenly on the hovering support unit. She is facing down towards the deck, but she turns her head slowly to either side to confirm where she is.

  “Amira! We are so thankful that you’re alright. Samuel has been working hard to repair your wounds” Nemmy says.

  “I’m sure he has” Amira eventually replies. Nemmy doesn’t catch it, but Samuel does. The anger in her voice. Or rather, the contempt.

  “Captain, could you and everyone else leave us for a moment?” she growls.

  “Of course. I’ll come back down and see you soon, Amira.” Nemmy enthuses, patting her leg before leaving. The medical staff quickly follow behind her. Samuel stands silently, waiting for the inevitable outburst. Instead, she speaks in a faint whisper.

  “I could have died, Samuel”

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do”

  “If I die in the line of duty, then so be it. I’m a soldier, it could happen any day. I accept the risks of this job. That constable, however, was drugged and unarmed and you decided to put your personal views before his life” Amira says, all in the same monotone voice. To most people, she would sound bored. To Samuel, it was heart-breaking misery.

  “Amira…” he begins, but he has nothing to say.

  “You let him die, Samuel. All you had to do was pick up the gun. Couldn’t you even do that? You couldn’t bend your rules this one time to save his life?” she asks. This time the sadness in her voice comes through loud and clear. Samuel is choked up too much to speak. He puts a hand on her, but she violently nudges it away, snarling at the abrupt wave of self-inflicted pain.

  “Do not
touch me. The crew don’t need to know about this. Morale is important. Tell the crew we were simply attacked, and I’ll agree to that. But I’ll never forget what happened, Major. Bring back the medics. They can fix my back” she orders.

  “I can do it,” Samuel says weakly.

  “No. You can’t. I only want people that I can trust, Major” she responds coldly. Samuel steps away, rubbing his eyes clear. The words sting deeply.

  “As you wish, Major.” He croaks in response.

  The Bubble Has Burst

  The viewspace displays a blanket of green and white metal spread across the blackness of space. It’s a rare occurrence for so many Imperial ships to converge in a single location, and even less so for peaceful purposes. As Nemmy looks around the bridge, it’s obvious to her that everyone shares her excitement for once. Even Ravaan is as pleased as he ever allows himself to appear. She wonders what the Confederation visitors to Sanctum make of this assembly. Perhaps some of them were secretly hoping to see the visitors.

  “I’ve never seen one of these ship classes up close!” Alonso says excitedly.

  “Neither have I. It should be interesting” Emily replies.

 

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