When all the liquid had been drained, and I had been dried by a stream of hot air, and all the sensors had been disconnected, there was a loud hiss from the tank. The hermetic seal had been broken. The glass cover, which had a diameter of only a meter, raised and stood upright on a podium. Two steps went down from this podium to the floor.
An egghead in a white coat was standing there with a holographic display in his hands.
“Ah, Captain Johnson. Welcome back to the land of the living.” He made no other effort to communicate with me, instead allowing me a moment to get my bearings.
I studied the doctor. He was middle aged, perhaps in his late fifties. His hair was intensely blonde and cut in a military style. His soft features were emphasized by the small pair of round glasses he wore. I thought that was strange, because nobody in the empire had to use glasses any more. But I decided they might be part of some technological system. He looked the way you would expect a doctor to look, which inspired confidence. He had an air of self-assurance and decisiveness about him.
“How long?” was all I could ask. My voice sounded strange to my ears, as if it belonged to somebody else.
“Okay, Captain Johnson, first allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dr. Vandarez and I have been overseeing your recovery. I imagine that you must have a lot of questions. I will answer them all, or at least most of them. But first, how about you take a shower and put something on? The bathroom is to your left. There are also clothes in there. I ordered a standard uniform for you. That’s the style you prefer, isn’t it?”
“Thank you, Dr. Valdarez. It will just take a minute.” He nodded and I took my first step down from the podium and crossed to the bathroom. Luckily, you never forget how to walk. I might have been a little unsteady on my feet, but I made it.
“Take your time, Captain, I’ll be waiting right here.”
I was washed and dressed within five minutes. I wanted to find out all the details of what had happened as quickly as possible: about the explosion, the mission, my men, and most importantly, what had happened to Bull. He had been further forward than anyone else, near the heart of the explosion.
Dr. Vandarez showed me the way to his office, just a few corridors away. We walked together in silence, and I tried to find my way back to reality. The uniform, at least, was exactly the model I liked to wear when I was on duty. It was a comfortable one piece in dark blue. The shoulders had the insignia for a captain attached and my name was printed above my right chest pocket. It seemed that Vandarez had done his homework.
We came to his office. There was a small nameplate beside the door.
Dr. Arnold Vandarez.
Interior Medical Unit Head
Station Commander
So he wasn’t just any doctor, he was the boss around here. I was pleased about this because it meant he would have the information I needed. Vandarez held up his left wrist, the one with the chip implanted, to the door mechanism. The door immediately slid to the side and disappeared into the wall.
“Come in, captain, and take a seat.” He gestured to a comfortable-looking chair. He sat opposite and pushed a button in his desk, and a transparent panel extended. “Okay, Captain Johnson, what do you want to know first?”
“How long?” was my brief question.
“Eight months, two weeks and four days.” I couldn’t really complain: it had been a short question, so it made sense that I got an answer that was equally brief. It was precise and had all the necessary information. But it still hit me like a ton of bricks.
“Eight months?” I asked, as my jaw dropped and my fists gripped the arms of my chair till the knuckles went white.
“And two weeks, four days! Captain Johnson, you have to understand, your injuries were very severe. There was a long time when things were very much touch and go. I was worried about you until two months ago. That’s why you’re here and not in a normal medical center.”
“Okay. So … I’m not? I mean, in a normal medicenter?”
“No, you are in a special, let’s say, facility.”
I immediately felt that it would not be a good idea to pursue this line of questioning. I doubted I would get a useful answer, anyway.
“My mission?”
“That’s over.”
“What happened?”
“You want the short and sweet answer? An explosion hit your recon squad in the tunnel.” He looked at the glass panel several times and red some numbers, then continued. “At the same time, your troops outside the objective, the base, were attacked. There was a short and intense firefight. The Seisossa had nothing to counter the new weapons with. The base was taken and the force field deactivated. You see, Captain Johnson, apart from you, only three other commandos made it. Almost every unit was shot down and not many survived the crash in as good a shape as you. Those that did survive, were not able to carry out their mission. This was because they were either too far from the objective or the commanding officer didn’t see any point in carrying on. It was a considerable act of bravery from you and your squad. My congratulations. I will get you a detailed report when we are done here. You can read all about it.”
I had to get my head round this first, but if we managed to take the base, there must have been survivors. Somebody must have written the mission report while I was out of action. Several minutes passed before I was able to ask another question. I remembered Bull. Dammit! He was my best friend, a good comrade, and all I was thinking about was the mission. I would have to work on that.
“What about Bull?”
“Bull?”
“Sorry, I mean Master Gunnery Sergeant Al Zuchkowski.”
“One second!” He looked again at his display, pulling up more data. “Ah, here we are. He wasn’t treated here, he was taken directly to the medicenter ship.”
“He’s alive?”
“You bet! Sergeant Zuchkowski went back into action months ago. Oh.. and he was given an award for bravery. It looks like you have this sergeant to thank for your life. The explosion burnt out both his eyes. They were completely destroyed, and there were a few other injuries, but not as serious as yours. It was also him who dragged you out of the tunnel – and he did it blind! It took a few people a lot of time to persuade him that it wasn’t a good idea to drag you back to the ship with him, blind. Your squad somehow manged to get your shuttle off the ground. They flew directly to an evacuation transporter. After contacting high command, Doctor Maison transferred you to my research …”
It seemed like he felt he was about to say too much. So this was a research station. It was probably top secret. I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes. I was alive and that was all that mattered.
“That’s good news. How advanced are the synthetic eyes you make these days?”
“Oh, they are a routine procedure. But Sergeant Zuchkowski refused to have his eyes replaced, and decided for an artificial pair. There is nothing written here about his reasons.”
I frowned. What was the old war dog up to now? I would have to ask him what was going on next time I saw him.
“I’m not going to list all your injuries, that could take the whole day. You will also be given an entire report about that. There is still one thing I need to explain, though you must have noticed by now …” Dr. Vandarez leaned back in his seat and interlaced his fingers behind his head.
“You’re talking about my implants? Yes, I can’t access them right now. I don’t have my improved vision or hearing.”
“It’s not just right now, Captain Johnson. During your recovery, I was forced to remove your implants. It isn’t often necessary, but in your case there was no avoiding it. I also had to remove the memory chip. It was defective.”
I had gotten so used to the implants that I no longer felt complete, in fact I felt naked.
“When do I get them back?”
“Back? You
won’t get them from me. High command gave me specific instructions about that. They are military equipment, after all. I asked them for clarification, and they told me not under any circumstances to replace them. I wasn’t given an explanation.”
What was all that supposed to mean? Things just kept getting more mysterious. First I wake up in what was likely to be a top secret research station – and now this directive from high command.
“So, what happens now?”
“Now, Captain Johnson, I have returned all your physical capabilities to their full function and there is nothing more I can do for you here. I have been ordered to release you immediately. You will report to your home base Genesis to return to service. I will transfer the orders from high command to you.”
It was obvious to me that I wasn’t going to find out any more, because either Dr. Vandarez didn’t have any more information or did not intend to share what he knew with me. So much for him answering all my questions! That was obviously so much crap.
Dr. Vandarez wordlessly handed me an info-pad and gave me a fake smile. I knew this smile only too well. It said: This conversation is over, dismissed, Captain Johnson! I quickly saluted and left, saying, “Thank you, sir.” Then I turned 180 degrees – slammed my heels together with a loud clack –, and I headed for the exit. I just had no idea where I was going. I didn’t know the layout of the station, and I didn’t even think I would be able to retrace my steps. This was because I was still a little disorientated and also because of the missing memory chip. Damn, that thing was a curse and a blessing. I was really starting to miss it.
The door again opened automatically and I stepped out into the corridor. I turned round again, but the door was already closed. There was now a young man standing beside the door. I didn’t think he could be more than twenty. He had surprisingly high and protruding cheekbones. He was overweight, making his face round, just like the rest of him. I immediately gave him the nickname Moonface in my mind. He had drooping shoulders and the rest of of his body language immediately told me that this young man had no military training. This meant he was no danger. Not that I was expecting to have to deal with any threat here. It was just second nature to me to evaluate how much of a threat people posed to me. But I would have liked to know where Moonface had suddenly come from.
“Captain Johnson, I’m Dr. Vandarez’ assistant. I’ve been sent to take you to your accommodation. If you would please follow me?”
His deep bass voice was a good fit for his waist size. He didn’t tell me his name, just hurried away, forcing me to follow and try not to lose him. I wasn’t particularly interested in talking to him, and he didn’t try to start a conversation either, so we walked in silence through the station. Our journey took us along several corridors that all looked the same. We twice went up several floors in grav shafts, until we had been walking toward my temporary accommodation for about ten minutes.
“Captain Johnson, your quarters. You’ll find everything inside. If you need anything, there is a comm unit hanging on the inside of the door. Just ask control for whatever you need. If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot to do.”
Without waiting for an answer, the young man’s fat body disappeared round the nearest corner.
I entered the sparsely furnished quarters: with a bed, a small table and a chair, and a small terminal, nothing more. The room was no bigger than eight square meters. There was a small room beside the bed with a toilet. I was used to such accommodation from my years in the service, so it didn’t bother me. There were some refreshments and some food on the table, but I didn’t feel hungry or thirsty. A meditank provided everything the body needed.
I didn’t touch the food or drink, and instead I lay on the bed. It was time to find out what my injuries had been, and what the orders from high command were. I usually started with military documents, but this time I started with the medical report.
What I read was so horrifying I felt a little ill. I’m a tough guy, and I’ve seen a lot of things that nobody should have to see. I’ve seen limbs go flying, guts spilling out, and stuff like that. But this was my file. These were my limbs flying in the air, and my guts spilling. Its a different thing to see this happen to other people than to see it happen to you. Dr. Vandarez hadn’t been exaggerating. My list of injuries was as long as my arm. It was an impressive work of cataloging, with all the injuries photographed.
I paid particular attention to the injuries to my head, though it was difficult to recognize a head in the images. I couldn’t understand how a person could survive this. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the report about the treatment I had been given or the healing process. All there was was a photograph of the results of every injury. I worked out that this version of the report had been put together specially for me, with redactions. I looked at the head injuries again, and the accompanying photos. Was that really me? A quick check in the bathroom confirmed that it was. As far as I could tell, I was as handsome as ever. Even where before there had no longer even been a face, there were scars that I had picked up in previous battles.
It was time to read the orders from high command. They were grim. I was surprised to be able to open them without scanning the ID chip implanted in my left wrist. That was unusual for military documents. Did I even still have an ID chip, or had that been taken out as well? There wasn’t much information in the document, anyway.
For: Captain John James Johnson
ID: 2393111995
Subject: Transfer and orders
Sender: High Command
Captain Johnson, congratulations on your complete recovery. Follow all instructions from Dr. Vandarez without exception. High Command has been informed of your recovery. You will find transportation on the station.
Report to your superior officer immediately on Genesis Base and resume duties.
By authority of High Command
That was it. I wondered when I should leave for Genesis, or if I would be told when by Dr. Vandarez. Would I be told, “Let’s go, Johnson. On your feet, and get going!” or something like that?
The report of my mission was as concise and impersonal as ever. Only I, Bull, and another soldier had survived the explosion in the tunnel. Anther fifteen men were killed when the Seisossa attacked from the jungle. It was an acceptable result. There were a few more commendations and a recommendation for a promotion at the end of the report. The report had been written by, who else but Bull. It was a little strange, I thought, to be reading a report about my own mission written by somebody else. Especially when I read things like, “Then Captain Johnson ordered us …”, or, “Captain Johnson reorganized the squads” and such like.
I had nothing to do here and I was now feeling completely recovered. There was no reason for delaying my departure any more. I went to the coms unit and called control, in my usual curt military style.
“Control, Captain Johnson here,” and I was answered immediately.
“Captain Johnson, what can I do for you? Contol here!” The voice was definitely female, and very pleasant. She sounded young, strong and sensual. My imagination started running wild. The way she had tacked, “Control here,” on the end, was obviously just for fun. It was a shame it wasn’t a video connection. I could only hear her, not see her.
Good grief, Johnson, fresh out of the tank and you are already thinking about that – you have to have manners! A little politeness couldn’t hurt after all. What was it my mother always said? John, it doesn’t hurt to be polite and it doesn’t cost a dime. You might even get something. “Sorry for my gruff tone. Just habit. I have orders from high command. I have to leave this station and travel to Genesis. Do you have any information on when? According to my orders, everything is ready.”
“No need for an apology,” the pleasant voice purred from the comms unit. “Wait just a moment, Captain Johnson, I’ll take a look.” It was just a second or two until the
angel voice from control returned. “Captain Johnson? Your transport is ready to leave when you are. Tell me when you want to go and I’ll tell the pilot to get ready for departure.”
“Thank you. Can you tell the pilot now, please? I’m ready to go.”
“Of course, Captain Johnson. I’m transferring a map and a route to your pad. Please don’t stray from the marked path. The station is very large, it’s easy to get lost.”
As if I would be stupid enough to get lost. She was saying this not because I could have got lost but because this was a secret research station and nothing here was for my eyes, on penalty of death. But I didn’t see any reason to leave the route, I just wanted to get going – as soon as possible. “Of course not, and thank you, Mrs …?”
“No problem. And, Captain Johnson …”
“Yes?”
“My name’s Ms. Vandarez.”
“Oh? … I mean … sorry, what do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s Ms. nor Mrs. Vandarez. It’s a shame you want to get going so soon. The pilot has been notified and is waiting for you. Have a good trip, Captain Johnson.”
Was she flirting with me? I started to regret my decision. On the other hand, didn’t she say Ms. Vandarez? The daughter, the wife, or just a coincidence that they had the same name? Though I didn’t really believe in coincidences.
“Oh, erm, yes, Ms. Vandarez, thank you.”
The coms unit clicked and the green light showing there was a connection went out. It seemed the conversation was over.
The map with my route marked on it was already on my pad. It was an interactive guide that took me to the hangar soon after. For a station, just a simple research station, the hangar was huge. I immediately saw a number of shuttles, military designs, but an entire corvette could have been fit inside.
Conscription Day: The Johnson Chronicles Page 5
