Conspiracy Unleashed

by L. Danvers

  A light shone above the bright yellow and pink coral peaks from the other end of the reef. The crew swam in that direction, and they were surprised to find that it was in fact the orb they had been searching for. Sam reached out his hand to grab the floating ball. Cal reminded him he wouldn’t be able to feel it, and sure enough, without the sense of touch, he struggled to keep the object in his grasp.

  “So how do we get it back to the surface?” Flynn asked.

  For a moment, the five of them floated there, unsure of their next move.

  “Check the utility belts,” Commander Ahmadi said. “There has to be a way to contain it.”

  The others had their knives, and the five of them each had a couple more tools, backup flashlights and ropes tucked away in their belts.

  “You think we could make a net out of these?” Flynn held his rope for the others to see.

  “Good thinking,” Commander Ahmadi said. He and Sam got to work weaving the ropes together and securing them with knots. When they were finished, he instructed each member of the crew to grab a side of the makeshift net. Together, they positioned it under the floating orb. They swam upward, drawing in closer to one another to keep the orb within the net. Because they had to dodge peculiar looking alien fish and swim around coral and rock formations while trying to keeping the orb in place, it took some time before they reached the surface. But when they did, they were met with a slow applause from Agent Scott.

  “Not bad,” Agent Scott said. “Not bad at all.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Compared to the underwater training, the rest of the day was a breeze. After drying and changing into their regular clothes, the five of them attended a lecture that was of great interest to Cal. The focus was on communications strategies—what to do if they made contact with an intelligent extraterrestrial lifeform, how to determine whether that being was friendly or hostile, how to proceed if they were indeed hostile and so on.

  By the time the lecture finished, muscles Cal didn't know she had throbbed from their training earlier in the day. By dinnertime she was ravenous. Fighting alien sea creatures and capturing glowing orbs made a person famished. She and the rest of the crew made their way to the grand dining room. Cal sat between Flynn and Britt.

  “You did great today,” Flynn said.

  “Why do you sound surprised?” Britt asked him. “I expected nothing less. Our girl can do anything she puts her mind to.”

  Cal gave a bashful smile.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Flynn explained. “I knew you could handle it. But that... that was impressive.”

  “Ha. Thanks.”

  The conversation dwindled as the five of them scarfed down their juicy steak, grilled asparagus, buttery corn on the cob and Caesar salad. Cal dropped her spoon while sprinkling shredded parmesan cheese on her plate. Both she and Commander Ahmadi popped their heads under the table to look for it. She saw his left pants leg had bunched up, revealing the platinum prosthetic leg. Cal clasped her fingers around the spoon and sat back up at the table. She wondered if it was appropriate to ask about it.

  “My leg was amputated twelve years ago,” he explained, sensing Cal’s curiosity. She felt guilty for having been so obvious. “It happened on my first delivery to Mars. I brought a shipment of explosives so the settlers could blast into the rock. I was transferring the shipment to the camp, and—I cannot figure out how, for the life of me—the last explosive burst. I went flying and passed out. When I woke up, the medic told me they had to amputate my leg.”

  “I'm so sorry,” Cal said.

  “Do not be. When I recovered and got back to Earth, my doctor wanted to fix me up with one of those expensive prosthetics they have with the artificial skin, but I did not want to hide my injury. Do not get me wrong, I understand why some people do. But for me... No, I wanted to remember the blast. It reminds me life is precious.”

  “That's beautiful,” Britt said.

  Commander Ahmadi took a sip of water, deflecting the compliment. “Anyway, it worked out. My wife Farah fitted me for my prosthetic leg. If it were not for that explosion, I would not have her, nor my two children. In a sense, the explosion was the best thing that happened to me.”

  In the brief time Cal had spent with Commander Ahmadi, she had grown to respect him. But after hearing his story, she admired him. The way he spoke about his injury spoke volumes about his character and who he was as a person. He made so much more sense to her.

  After dinner, the five of them dispersed. Flynn was exhausted and went to sleep early, so Cal decided to go to her room as well. She collapsed on the silk-covered bed and fiddled with her necklace. She pressed down on the intricate design, and the holographic image of Quinn and her appeared. Cal’s mouth curved into a smile.

  There was a knock on the door a few minutes later. She figured it was Flynn or Britt, who had been known to drop by now and again. Cal pressed the locket to hide the picture and tucked her necklace under her shirt. She sat up, adjusted her blouse and ran her fingers through her hair.

  “Come in.”

  The door squeaked as it swung open. She took a sharp breath when she saw it was Sam, flashing his bright half-smile.

  “Come with me,” he said. “I want to show you something.”

  His invitation came as a pleasant surprise. Over the last couple of months she had plenty of one-on-one time with Britt, whom she had grown close to. Britt was easy to love. She was the oldest of six siblings, and it showed. She had a nurturing way about her. And of course she hung out with Flynn plenty. She and Commander Ahmadi had spent some time together, too, talking between sips of steaming cups of tea. He’d confided in her how he missed his family, and Cal felt guilty about not feeling the same way about her own parents, who were mourning the loss of their other child.

  She and Sam, on the other hand, had exchanged light banter, the accidental brush of a hand a time or two and plenty of fleeting glances. But they hadn’t spent any time together alone.

  “Okay.” She cupped her neck as she followed him down the hallway, through a heavy door and up a steep staircase. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, her legs burning as she climbed the many steps.

  “You’ll see.”

  When they reached the top, Sam took Cal’s hand, sending a tingling sensation throughout her body, and he led her down a dark hall. It was lit by the occasional flickering of sconce candles. He took her through one last door and pointed up. Cal looked to the ceiling. It was made of glass, revealing the night sky filled with glittering stars. Holographic projections were spread across it. They depicted outlines of the images the constellations in view represented.

  “What is this place?”

  “It’s an observatory,” he said, leading her to the center of the room. “I couldn’t sleep, so I was wandering around and found it. I thought you would like it, too.”

  “I do.”

  Cal could make out decorative models of the solar system hanging from the tall ceiling, which revealed themselves by the light of the silver moon and stars. Delicate oil paintings of Galileo and Einstein adorned the wall, and the musty smell of hundreds of old books wafted through the air.

  She and Sam sat on the sofa, admiring the celestial view.

  “It's amazing, isn't it?” Sam asked.

  “Mhmm,” Cal said. She rested her eyes upon him, wetting her lips, which felt dry.

  “You gave the commander a run for his money today.”

  Cal brushed her hair away from her face. “Oh, that?” she said with an uncomfortable laugh. “I only wanted to help. I’m sure he would have been fine without me, though.”

  “You shouldn’t sell yourself short.” He smiled.

  They sat together for hours, picking out constellations on the rare occasion there were breaks in the conversation, which surprised Cal in how well it flowed considering this was the first time they had talked one on one.

  She told him about why she had agreed to the mission—to honor her sister’s memory. She to
ld him about the story she’d been working on and how she’d lost her job when she went looking for Quinn. He rested his hand on her thigh as she spoke, not out of lust, but a steady act of reassurance.

  He told her about his dad. His mom had died not long after he was born, leaving his dad to raise him and his older siblings by himself. His dad didn’t remarry. He didn’t have time to date with four mouths to feed.

  During a brief pause in the conversation, Cal found herself mesmerized by the night sky. It was hard to imagine being up there. It looked so lonely. She tried to picture it. Five people on a spaceship floating among a sea of stars, exploring planets and making contact with other lifeforms.

  She felt the warmth of his strong hand resting on her shoulder, his arm wrapped around her. She fiddled with her wristband, hoping he couldn’t feel the jitteriness of her nerves. She couldn’t understand why he made her so nervous. She wondered if it was a sign something wasn’t right—a gut reaction telling her to stay away. But the racing of her heart told her she was infatuated with this guy and that she was nervous. She wondered if this was what those characters in romantic comedies felt when they met their soulmate. She much preferred that explanation and didn’t give the former a second thought.

  “What are you thinking about?” Sam asked, leaning in close to hear her answer.

  “Nothing in particular. I'm trying to take everything in, I guess.”

  “I know what you mean. It's pretty crazy, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Cal said. She turned to look at Sam. “What about you? What were you thinking about?”

  “You.”

  “Me?” Her voice cracked. “What about me?”

  “I don’t know if I should say.”

  “That's not fair.” Cal laughed, nudging him with her elbow. “I answered your question.”

  He leaned in closer to her until she could feel the tickle of his minty breath against her lips. She looked into his dreamy brown eyes, which were taking in every single inch of her. Sam leaned in further, and he pressed his lips against hers.

  Cal was glad it was dark. He couldn't tell she was blushing. She brushed her fingers through his perfect brown hair and rested her hand on his chest.

  “We should get some sleep. Would you mind walking me to my room?”

  “I'd love to,” he said.

  Together, they headed down the staircase and to Cal’s room. She turned the knob and stepped inside, leaving the door hanging wide open. She leaned her head against the doorframe, staring at Sam.

  “Goodnight,” she whispered, trying not to wake the others in the rooms next to hers.

  “Goodnight, Cal Cameron.” Sam winked at her, and she watched him return to his own room. Cal closed the door behind her and rested her head against it, exhaling, her stomach fluttering.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was the first day of weapons training. After a hearty breakfast, the crew headed down to the basement. The exercise was held in a room that looked like a shooting range. Targets dangled from the ceiling along the far wall.

  “Good morning,” the agent said, rolling her ‘r’ with her delightful accent. “My name is Agent Cortez. Today, I will introduce you to the pulse-ray gun, or pulse-r as I like to call it. I designed it myself, so please do not hesitate to ask me questions. I will be glad to answer them for you. We will begin with the basics.”

  The fiery red-head showed them how to hold the gun. She went into extensive detail about the technology that made it work (Cal tried her best to pretend to be interested, but she zoned out for most of it) and explained how to care for it.

  “Got it?” Agent Cortez asked.

  “Sure,” Cal said, knowing the look on her face must be giving her confusion away.

  “Have you shot a gun before?”

  “Like, a real gun?” Cal said. “Yeah, a couple of times. My dad took me to a shooting range when I was younger.”

  “Were you any good?”

  “I was okay, I guess.”

  “Don't worry,” Agent Cortez said. “The pulse-r is easier to shoot than any other gun on the market. But it does take some getting used to.”

  She passed out the pulse-r guns, and she flipped a lever on the wall panel. The targets screeched down as they were lowered from the ceiling.

  “Go on,” Agent Cortez said.

  Cal gulped. She took a deep breath and steadied her hand. Pulsed emissions fired from Commander Ahmadi’s and Sam’s weapons. Flynn fired a shot, but he missed the target. He left a singe mark in the wall, which was followed by an eruption of laughter from Britt. Cal adjusted her posture. She blocked out the noise. She hadn’t been a terrible shot when she was younger, but it had been so long since she’d held a weapon.

  She was psyching herself out. Overthinking it.

  She counted herself down in her head. Three, two, one.

  She pulled the trigger, and the pulse-r vibrated. Gold light shot from the front as a wave of energy pulsed into the upper left side of the target, leaving burn marks.

  “You flinched,” Agent Cortez said to her. “But for your first time you did pretty well. Try not to think about it too hard. You'll jinx yourself. Do it again.”

  Cal pulled the trigger, this time missing the target altogether.

  “Again... Again... Again...”

  It went on like this for twenty minutes. Cal continued to have trouble with her stance. Sam offered to help her work on it, and Agent Cortez gave him her blessing. Flynn let out an odd noise at their exchange, like he’d choked on his own spit.

  A shiver went down Cal’s spine as Sam placed his hands on her hips, hugged tight by her uniform, and turned them. He whispered instructions to her, and when he did, she felt his breath brush against the back of her neck, making her hairs stand on end. She had half the mind to ask him to leave her alone. She couldn’t concentrate with him there. But when he stepped away and told her to shoot, she hit the target dead in the center. She shrieked with delight and flung her arms around his neck, after which she was chastised by Agent Cortez for not being more careful with the weapon.

  “Good,” Agent Cortez praised her, looking over the shoulder of each of them as she walked past. “Again... Again... That's right, Flynn. You're getting the hang of it. Keep at it, Britt. You’re doing great. Again... Again... ”

  Now that she had some practice, Cal was embarrassed that it had taken as long as it had to get used to shooting the pulse-r. It was easier than she thought it would be.

  “Okay,” Agent Cortez said. “I think you're ready.”

  “Ready for what?” Cal asked.

  She instructed everyone to change into their suits. Once they were dressed, she had them run through simulations one at a time. The men went first, leaving Britt and Cal to wonder what virtual tests they would face. Britt sat on the floor, legs crossed, twiddling her thumbs. Cal didn’t have to ask. She knew Britt was nervous. Britt was a good enough shot, but Cal got the impression she wasn’t comfortable using weapons. She’d devoted her life to healing people. To saving them from the wounds such weapons caused. Britt put her soul into everything she did. But, in this case, something was holding her back. Cal sat beside her, not saying anything. Just being there. She knew Britt would do fine.

  “Dr. Ridley.” Agent Cortez popped her head through the door. “You’re up.”

  “Good luck,” Cal said.

  Britt composed herself and headed inside the simulation room. The latch clicked shut behind her. After a few moments, Agent Cortez slipped out of the room. Cal was curious as to how things were going in there, but no matter what the simulation was, she was sure Britt could handle it.

  Agent Cortez’s back rested against the door while she watched the simulation on her FlexTab.

  “Why aren’t we training together again?” Cal asked.

  “You will. But first, you train solo,” Agent Cortez said. “In the real world, you have to be prepared to go it alone. God forbid... Well, I'm sure you can understand why each of you needs to master the use
of this weapon. The rest of the group may not always be around to help you.”

  They could be dead, Cal thought. She's trying to say the rest of the group could be dead, and your survival may depend on using this weapon.

  “You have your lenses in, right?” Agent Cortez asked.

  “Yes.”

  When Britt’s simulation was complete, Cal followed Agent Cortez into the mysterious room. She wanted to know what the rest of the crew was up to. Probably decompressing or comparing notes.

  The room was dark, illuminated only by the glow of Agent Cortez’s FlexTab.

  “Here we are,” she said. “This training simulation’s not too bad. We’re working on your reaction time.”

  “So things are going to be jumping out at me?”

  “It’s a possibility. This is target practice. It’s about getting comfortable with the pulse-r. Shoot everything you see.”

  “Everything?” Cal asked.

  “Everything. We've created various imaginary alien lifeforms for you to face, much like we did with the simulation you did with Agent Scott. You’ll see the visuals through your lenses, and you’ll hear the audio through your suit. Some of these creatures may look familiar, others bizarre. It doesn’t matter what they look like. Don't hesitate. Shoot.” Agent Cortez handed Cal the pulse-r gun and patted her on the shoulder. “You'll be fine. I'll be watching the whole thing so I can give you pointers afterward.”

  Great.

  The door latched behind her as she left.

  Cal stumbled forward and tripped on something. Her own foot. At that moment, row after row of lights flipped on overhead. They dissolved into the scenery of the simulation. The landscape was beyond anything she could have dreamed up. It reminded her of a Salvador Dali painting. It was a sweltering desert, but it looked warped, twisted. A gentle breeze swept over the hills of sand. But the simulation had one peculiar detail. It was quiet. More than quiet. There was absolute, complete silence. Was there a glitch in her suit? Shouldn’t she be hearing something?