He jerked his head to the side. “No, doctor. I don’t want a shrink. I want you to understand me. Everyone thinks I’m a monster. That’s wrong—I’m as human as everyone else. I’m not sick, and I’m not flawed. No more than any other human.”
“I know you do what you think is best for the preservation of mankind,” Talia said with caution. “You have skills useful to the Alliance, but you could serve our society better if you could control your anger. We need to get to the source of that anger. A psychoanalyst would start with childhood memories, but obviously we can’t do that in your case. Psychotherapy manuals say nothing about treating people who’ve spent most of their life as a member of an alien species.”
The Bloody Colonel stared at her coldly. She felt frustrated at her lack of progress. She needed to change tactics.
“You said there was darkness in me, and you were right,” she admitted. “You said that I would be ready to be your confidant once I discover that inner darkness. I did when my sister was killed. I hated the Biozi. I hated my superiors, especially Captain Hunt, for my sister’s death. I hated the entire universe.”
“And out of this hate, this anger, came something good. You did the right thing when you injected the Biozi spy with the truth serum.”
“I broke the Hippocratic Oath!” Talia snapped. She could feel rage bubbling inside her like magma. “I betrayed the principles that have guided my entire life. A sentient being died in slow agony because of me. Did he deserve to die? What if he was innocent? What if he’d been brainwashed? Maybe, with time, I could’ve reverted his conditioning and turned him into a loyal citizen of the Alliance. But I took the easy path—I injected him with a lethal truth serum as you told me. You corrupted me.”
Kor shook his head. “You still don’t get it. I didn’t corrupt you—I opened your eyes to the truth. The Biozi don’t understand compassion. But fear? That they understand. Every living creature wants to survive, and fear is the universal language. We must talk to them in that language.”
Talia sneered. “Oh, they understood your message, all right. How many Taar’kuun civilians have you slaughtered during your military career? How many of their children have you butchered? The first time we met, I remember you wore a necklace made of juvenile Taar’kuun’s claws. The Taar’kuun think humans are abominations. You did a great service to humanity by fueling this belief, colonel.” She spat the last word as an insult. “And now billions of humans are dead. Including my sister. Because of people like you.”
Kor remained surprisingly composed as he listened to her outburst. “See, now we’re getting somewhere,” he said. “Rage. Not anger—rage. You’ve never been detained in one of those damned internment camps, have you? I have. That’s where I experienced rage for the first time. I remember that camp in vivid detail.”
He sighed, and his gaze lost its usual sharpness. “It was so clean there. Everything was so antiseptic. Not a speck of dust. So quiet, so planned and organized. They fed us those tasteless white bars, recycled shit enriched with synthetic prots and vitamins. I remember kids chewing that stuff at the canteen. Their faces blank as if they were machines…”
He paused as his memory conjured up the details. “I’ll never forget that sight; little machines sitting at a long table, all eating the same white bars in silence. Quiet horror, I thought. Horror of the worst kind. I shared my cell with a guy who used to be a chef, so he came up with a few ideas on how to make real food. We found a few volunteers and set up hydroponics in the basement. Grew tomatoes for the kids, sweet potatoes, that sort of stuff. We even managed some decent chocolate.”
He rocked his head slowly. The muscles of his face relaxed, and for the first time Talia saw something deeply human in his eyes. Almost tenderness.
“I saw a kid smile for the first time in my life,” he resumed. “He dropped a few breadcrumbs on his plate and quickly picked them up with his fingers. I told him to stop. There’s nothing wrong with being a bit messy. Life is chaos. Nature is chaos. You cannot control life; you cannot control emotions. It’s all just a tumultuous flow where the best you can hope for is to stay afloat. Enjoy the ride, if you can. My cellmate taught me that; a smart guy.”
“Did you try to escape?”
“Yeah, I did. One night, I managed to get into a ventilation shaft. I crawled for some time, trying to make as little noise as possible. I reached an underground room where humans were not allowed and peeped through the grate. It looked like a hospital, with white walls and white tables and Biozi in white coveralls.”
“But it wasn’t a hospital, I imagine.”
“I saw a human on a table. A little body. I recognized that kid. In my mind, I could see his face, his mischievous smile, his lips covered in chocolate. Now he was just lying there. Dead.”
Kor’s face tensed again, then the moment passed, and he was back to his usual self. “I’m sure the kid didn’t suffer. Just went to sleep that night to never wake up. I watched as the Biozi cut him into pieces with their instruments. Oh, it was all very civilized and clean and…professional. No blood, no waste. In a few minutes, he was gone, and the table was clean, as if nothing happened. As if he’d never existed.”
“So that’s why you hate the Taar’kuun?”
“Not only for that. For what happened next too. But I don’t wanna talk about it. Not today.”
25
The enemy within
The next day, Talia kept shadowing Kor and Cordova as they resumed their investigation. They traveled from one base to another, and from one ship to another, talking to “persons of interest.” Their inquiry led them to the ASC Jamnagar, the ship where the high-ranking members of the Earthist organization resided. They started right at the top, requesting a meeting with Shana Multan.
It was a bold move, as she had announced her candidacy for the presidency on that day.
Her secretary tried to stop the investigators, telling them that Multan was very busy. Kor barked at her to clear Multan’s schedule and threatened to arrest her for obstruction of justice if she didn’t comply. The secretary blanched and immediately alerted her employer.
Kor didn’t wait for the invitation and barged into Multan’s office. Cordova followed, and Talia sneaked in last, feeling ashamed of the company she was keeping.
The office was small, yet the first thing that struck Talia was the abundance of plants. Not only in pots, but invading every available square meter of space, climbing the walls and even hanging from the ceiling. A subtle scent permeated the air, a mix of floral perfume and incense. The desk, as the rest of the furniture, was made of biosynthetic wood.
As the leader of the Earthists turned to the uninvited visitors, Cordova froze, his wide eyes sparkling.
Shana Multan was probably the most gorgeous, the most sensual woman Talia had ever seen. Her age was impossible to determine; early thirties maybe, yet her eyes reflected maturity beyond that. They were outlined with indigo, the color of the night sky just before sunrise. The arches of her eyebrows were thin and black, as if drawn with a pencil. Her tight-lipped smile contributed to the aura of mystery that surrounded her.
Kor seemed immune to her charm. “Ma’am Multan, we have questions for you. I’m Colonel Kor, and this is Captain Cordova, ASF.” He gave a glance to his partner, who was standing still, chin lifted, his lips spread in a charismatic smile.
“How can I help you, sirs?” Shana’s eyes had a soft sheen, and her smile was welcoming and reserved at the same time. Her gaze went to Talia, even though Kor hadn’t introduced the CMO. When it slipped to Cordova, Shana’s smile grew a shade warmer.
“You already know we’ve arrested Mr. Takamori, one of your lieutenants, who committed crimes against the Alliance. Did you know he used to be a hitman?”
“No, I didn’t, colonel.” Shana’s eyes were still set on Cordova, even though she was addressing Kor.
“Fine, let’s pretend you’re telling the truth,” Kor croaked. “Did you know he had an illegal weapon in his possessio
n?”
“No, I didn’t, colonel,” Shana repeated in the same even tone, still locking gazes with Cordova.
“Are you gonna repeat the same phrase over and over, Multan?” Kor snapped.
“That depends on your questions, colonel,” she replied softly.
“Maybe we started on the wrong foot here,” Cordova cooed in his melodious baritone voice. “Could you please talk to us about your working relationship with Mr. Takamori?”
Shana’s impeccable teeth flashed as her smile turned into a grin. “With pleasure, captain. Haru is a dedicated, reliable, and hardworking person. His past is of no interest to us. Everyone is welcome to join our organization, irrespective of their background and personal history.”
Kor scoffed. “Right. You turn a blind eye to your followers’ pasts. Is that why there are so many lawbreaking scumbags in your ranks?”
Shana’s eyes moved to Kor, her expression barely changed. “We believe in second chances. You have been given a second chance, and even a third one, isn’t that right, colonel?”
Kor clenched his teeth in anger. Talia could see the muscles of his neck moving. But he didn’t reply.
“We believe humanity was given a second chance when the Taar’kuun invaded our worlds,” Shana added, her eyes returning to Cordova. “The Retroforming should’ve been a new beginning for our species, an opportunity to build an enlightened and just society. Alas, humanity failed to live up to its own standards. Mercantilism, crime, and corruption flourished on our worlds. The flowers of evil bloomed in this spiritual vacuum. The current administration is nothing but a remnant from this corrupt society.”
“We’re not here to talk politics,” Kor snapped. “Don’t try to change subject. You don’t seem to grasp the gravity of your situation. One of your lieutenants is a professional killer. He’s in jail for assaulting an officer and attempted murder. As the leader of the Earthists, you’re at the top of our list of suspects. We have the right to search your ship from stem to stern and seize your cyber-equipment. We can go through every message, every call you ever made.”
“Be my guest,” Shana said. “We have nothing to hide.”
“You think I’m a total idiot?” Kor yelled, clenching his fists. “We wouldn’t find anything. You’re experts in the art of hiding things, and I know you’ve got agents everywhere. You’ve infiltrated all organizations—ASF, Fleet Security, and maybe even the AIS. That’s how Adisa Multan managed to seize the Capitol and take the president hostage.”
For a furtive instant, a shadow slid over Shana’s face when Adisa was mentioned. The coup she had staged ended badly for the Earthists. Surely Shana knew that Colonel Kor was the one who shot Adisa dead.
Cordova raised his hands to placate everyone. “Please, ladies and gentlemen, let’s be constructive and try to find common ground. We’re all in the same boat here. We want humanity to survive, and we want to build a better society. I think we all agree that we cannot allow a murderer to walk free. Someone has assassinated one of our citizens, a hardworking man who deserved better than being shot dead. Our only purpose is to find the truth and bring the murderer to justice.”
“I wholeheartedly agree.” Shana was no longer smiling. “I give you my word—our organization had nothing to do with any murders. And we have not infiltrated anything. Many Alliance citizens sympathize with our cause and share our faith; this doesn’t imply the existence of an Earthist plot to overthrow the government. You cannot persecute people solely because of their religious beliefs. The last time I checked, Alliance law forbade any discrimination based on religion. As to Mr. Takamori’s actions, I can guarantee he acted alone and received no support from me or my organization.”
Kor sighed so loudly it almost came out as a growl. “This is pointless. I knew we wouldn’t obtain any useful info from you. Very well, if you’re unwilling to cooperate with our investigation, we’ll do it the hard way. We’ll find your spies and make them talk.” He pointed a finger at her chest. “I’m coming for you, Multan. I know you’re conspiring against the Alliance, and I won’t rest until the Earthist menace is eradicated.”
“Good stars with that, colonel,” Shana replied with a reserved smile.
*****
The criminal investigation team returned to Base Alpha for a meeting. It took place in the main administrative building, five levels below ground. A dozen people were present, all with high-level clearance, mostly Fleet Security and AIS officers.
“We must proceed to the next stage,” Kor said. “We don’t have any concrete evidence against the Earthists yet. Takamori refuses to talk, and we have no other leads in the murder investigation. The Earthists have thousands of members and sympathizers. We can’t simply round them up and interrogate them one by one. So here’s the plan. We must find their mole in the ASF.”
He activated a holo-screen and displayed a list of names. “I compiled a list of suspects, I mean, persons of interest. They’re all connected to the Earthist organization one way or another.”
Talia’s eyebrows lifted as she read the list. It contained over a hundred names, including officers, some of whom she knew personally.
Cordova had the same reaction. “Colonel, are you saying that all these members of the ASF are suspects in a conspiracy to destroy the Alliance?”
Kor jerked a nod. “As I said, they’re persons of interest. We launch an extensive twenty-four/seven surveillance program. I wanna know what these people are up to.”
“Colonel, with all due respect, I can’t authorize that,” Cordova said with caution. “We need concrete evidence; we can’t spy on people simply because they might be connected to the Earthists. Lieutenant Okoro, for example. According to your data, her sister is an Earthist, but you have no evidence that the lieutenant herself is involved with them. Okoro has an excellent service record, and I find the very idea that she might be accused of treason disturbing.”
Kor raised his hand to placate his partner. “I understand, captain. I’m not accusing any of the ASF officers of treason. But I believe it would be prudent to investigate them. The sooner we can rule them out as suspects, the better.”
“I have a question,” Talia said. “Why are you focusing exclusively on the Earthists and their alleged mole in the ASF? Don’t you have other leads? What about the transmitter found in the cave?”
“Excellent question, doctor,” Cordova seconded, turning to Talia. “I would like to investigate in that direction too. The transmitter was used to communicate with the Taar’kuun through a relay located in a neighboring system.”
“Hunt was very lucky to pick up that signal,” Kor muttered. “It’s almost as if he knew where to look…”
“Do we know who built that transmitter and where the components came from?” Talia asked.
“Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing who built the transmitter, as it was destroyed,” Cordova replied.
“We don’t know who assembled the transmitter, but we do know where its parts came from,” Kor said. “The team Hunt sent to recover it had to evac when the ceiling started to collapse, so they didn’t have time to gather any evidence. However, I analyzed the footage taken by their helmet cams.”
He made a pause for dramatic effect before delivering the conclusion. “The parts came from an ASF depot in Base Alpha. We don’t know who requisitioned them, as the requisition log has been tampered with. The point is—there are traitors among the ASF. The very people we rely on for the safety of our colony are conspiring against us.”
26
The hearing
DeCourt called for a meeting with Kor and Cordova on the same day. Talia was also invited. When she entered, the two officers were engaged in a lively and not particularly friendly conversation.
“We have no choice,” Kor snapped, raising his fist. “We need a public investigative hearing on this matter. The safety of the colony is at risk.”
Cordova showed him his palms. “Not so fast, colonel. We need proof. All your evidence is circ
umstantial.”
They both glanced at Talia as she entered, greeted her with a nod, and settled into visitor’s seats.
“Doctor, I would like your opinion,” DeCourt said. “What do you think of Captain Hunt? You’ve served under his command; you know him better than anyone here.”
Talia arched her eyebrows. “Captain Hunt? Why? What happened to him?”
“Nothing happened to him, doctor,” DeCourt replied. “We received his last report an hour ago. His mission is classified; I cannot tell you more. My question is—do you think he’s totally loyal to the Alliance?”
Talia eased into an empty chair, suddenly feeling unsteady on her feet. “Captain Hunt? Loyal? Why are you asking me this? Where’s Admiral Winsley, his CO?”
DeCourt leaned forward, steepled his fingers, and looked her in the eyes. “Doctor, please answer my question.”
“The captain is the most loyal, the most dedicated ASF officer I ever served with,” she stated. “When the Alliance gave up hope of finding Dr. Darus, when even you, sir, declared him dead, Captain Hunt continued searching. Relentlessly. Until we found and rescued him.”
“Did Captain Hunt deliver Dr. Darus to the Alliance?” Kor asked.
Talia glared at him. “No, the Remembrance was badly damaged and had to land on the planet where we found Ophelia. You know that, Colonel Kor, as you were on that planet too. You interfered with our mission and almost got us killed.”
“And what was Captain Hunt’s role in the capture of Ophelia Darus during the Battle of Olympica?” Kor asked, ignoring Talia’s last remark.
“His role?” Talia struggled to keep her voice calm. “What do you mean by that? The Remembrance saved Dr. Darus and Ophelia on Olympica, when Raak’naar’s flagship attacked the planet. Hunt snatched the shuttle transporting them from the jaws of a Megalodon-class dreadnaught. Without Hunt’s tactical genius, Raak’naar would’ve captured Darus.”
Survival Strategy Page 18
