Chuck would have wanted him to.
Yim and Blair helped carry the heavy equipment needed, sharing the load all the way to the infirmary. By the time they arrived, the whole area seemed to be in chaos, with doctors and nurses running around like headless chickens. One of the medical technicians grabbed Lieutenant Corrick with a mixture of firmness and care. “You! We’ve been looking all over for you!”
“Hello!” said Corrick, and collapsed into the technician’s arms.
“What the hell are you doing out of your bed?” A doctor stared at her, wild eyed. Her badge read Doctor Manda, Neurosurgery. “You can’t be walking around in your condition!” She shouted.
The technician lowered Corrick gently onto an examination table.“Well, I am, so…” Corrick looked down at the table, blinking blearily, then began to curl into the fetal position like a sleepy child. Then she sat up with a gasp—“But we need to talk to you right away!” She leaned in unsteadily, dilated eyes glistening. “In private.”
“No,” said Doctor Manda, in a tone that suggested she was not in a mood for arguing. “You’re an idiot to be up and about at this time. You just had major surgery! You have to go back to your bed immediately.”
“Okay,” said Corrick, nodding in agreement. “I’ll do that. I will go to bed and I promise, I swear to you, I will stay there. On one condition.”
Doctor Manda scowled. “Is that one condition that I handcuff you there? Because, as the CMO on this ship, I do have that power. And I will. You have no bargaining power here, Lieutenant. I can force you to stay in bed and I will.”
“Fine.” She held out her wrists. “Take me there. Chain me down if you want. I’ll deal with it. But I need you to do one thing for me first.”
Mattis needed her cooperation. “It’s important,” he said. “And we can tell you more in Corrick’s room.”
“I do have other patients,” said Doctor Manda sharply. “You do realize that, right? An injured civilian was just bought in here—”
“That’s my brother,” said Reardon, jumping forward. “I need to see him. Is he okay?”
Doctor Manda hesitated. “I… haven’t been attending his surgery personally,” she said, her tone suddenly at once sympathetic and formal. A tone Mattis knew all too well. Bedside manner. “But I have seen the report. In passing.” She glared at Corrick. “I was busy trying to find you.”
“Just give it to me straight,” Reardon said, his face paling. “Just tell me, okay?”
“I can’t say,” said Manda.
“I’m his brother,” said Reardon. “I have to know…”
“It’s okay,” said Mattis.
There was a terribly brief, yet terribly intense pause, where Doctor Manda was obviously summoning her courage. “I’m very sorry,” she said, reaching out and touching Reardon’s arm. “He’ll never walk again. The X-ray showed that his back has been—”
“Broken?” Reardon looked like he was about to explode. “I know that, he’s been in a wheelchair for years. How’s his leg?”
“Oh.” Doctor Manda said, her cheeks flushing. “I… I’m sorry, I only glanced at the report. The, uhh, gunshot wound on his leg has been repaired, and although he’s lost a lot of blood…” she smiled. “He should be fine. Normally I would warn you that the bone is broken and there is some damage from bullet fragments to his knee which, in normal circumstances, would lead to a limp, but… obviously that’s not going to be a huge problem.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” said Reardon, letting out a huge guffaw. “What a… phew! What a loser. Stupid, dumb loser who got his dumb self shot!”
“Yes,” said Doctor Manda. “He’ll be fine.”
Some good news at last.
“Okay,” said Mattis, turning to Corrick’s Marine escorts. “Take this wayward pilot back to her bed. And then, Doctor, I need you to perform a number of extremely sensitive tests. We must secure this ship and make certain that every one of us is who we say we are.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Infirmary
HMS Caernarvon
Z-Space
Mattis followed Doctor Manda into Corrick’s room, watching as she was laid out on the bed, groaning softly as she stretched out.
“You’ve taken a lot of painkillers and a lot of stimulants,” said Doctor Manda, crossly. “That’s bad for your heart.”
“So’s being an evil clone, probably,” said Corrick, whining in pain. “It certainly hasn’t been good for my head.”
Yim and Reardon set up the heavy computer equipment in one corner. Doctor Manda regarded them disapprovingly “Has that stuff been cleared to be installed here?” She ran her finger along one of the sides, the digit coming off with a load of dust. “Or cleaned? Ever?”
“Once a year,” said Reardon, grinning sardonically. “No matter if it needs it or not. Bratta left it with us, and it was dusty when we got it, so it’s not our responsibility.”
Mattis touched the doctor’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve seen this stuff in action. It’s not a drama. It works, and it’s… very Reardon-esque. Dirty and slow as hell, but it does the job.”
“Hey,” said Reardon, frowning and putting his hands on his hips. “I am not slow.” He turned back to Doctor Manda, grinning widely. “But I am dirty. Hey, wanna play nurse with me?”
“Sure,” said Doctor Manda, unsmiling, giving only a tired edge to her voice that said she had heard this joke a thousand times. “I’ll go get the rectal thermometer. Extra large gauge for you, of course.”
“Sounds like fun,” grinned Reardon.
Doctor Manda rolled her eyes, groaning just like Corrick had done. “Maybe I should give myself some of that happy juice. Just to dull the pain in my ears.”
Reardon snorted. “Babe, lemme sooth your—”
“Don’t call me that,” said Doctor Manda. “I can have you sedated. Not even joking.”
“Doctor,” said Reardon, smiling sweetly. “Let’s get down to business. So this stuff, right? The way it works is pretty simple. All the clones have identical DNA. But DNA is real complicated—”
“I know how DNA works. You remember what I just said, that I’m a surgeon?”
“Yeah,” said Reardon, continuing on as though she hadn’t said anything at all. “In every human being, there’s mitochondria; organelles that sit inside us like little…” he waved his hand around weirdly. “Fireflies.”
“Wrong,” said Doctor Manda.
Again, unperturbed, Reardon kept going. “Mitochondria are sweet and cool, but unlike the rest of us ugly sacks of dirty water, they have their own set of DNA. Two clones will be identical, but their mitochondria are going to be different. Unless, of course, the mitochondria were grafted in by science freaks and medical doctors in some freakish future lab.”
“Hey, careful about calling people freaks,” said Doctor Manda. “I’m going to enjoy stabbing you.”
Reardon laughed. “So that’s how we tell. We take a look at that shit, and then we compare the shit to other shit, and if the shit is fake, then you are a fake human, my friend.”
Doctor Manda sighed and took out a syringe. “Okay, now that the not-doctors have finished bullshitting around with only enough vocabulary to convince normal people that they’re smarter than they really are… who wants to be stabbed first?” She smiled sweetly. “Mister Reardon?”
“Sure,” said Reardon, rolling up his sleeve. “Penetrate me, doc. Then put the blood on the little dish thingie there, and hit Return. That’s the Enter key, by the way.”
With palpable enjoyment, Doctor Manda stabbed Reardon in the arm with the syringe, probably more violently than she needed to. “Oopsie,” she said.
Reardon whimpered.
Slowly, Doctor Manda pulled back the blood, and let it trickle onto the dish. The computer chirped, the machine whirred, and then it came up with a bright solid green square.
MITOCHONDRIAL MATCH:
NEGATIVE
“Congratulations,”
said Mattis. “You’re a human.”
“Thanks.” Reardon rolled down his sleeve. “That’s debatable once I’ve had a few drinks in me, but it’s nice to know that science is on my side.”
“Very debatable,” said Doctor Manda. “Maybe we should repeat the test a few hundred times, just to make sure. Can’t be too careful after all.”
“You should go next,” said Reardon, sticking out his tongue like a child.
Obligingly, Doctor Manda stuck herself with a fresh needle and tested herself.
MITOCHONDRIAL MATCH:
NEGATIVE
“Almost wish it had said yes,” said Doctor Manda, “then I might be able to convince one of my clones to stand in for me on my duty shifts.”
Mattis stuck out his arm impatiently. “I might as well go next,” he said.
Doctor Manda obligingly slid a fresh needle into his arm. Unlike Reardon’s squirming discomfort, Mattis barely felt a thing.
As the blood was scanned, Mattis’s chest suddenly tightened. What would happen if it came up red? What would he do if he wasn’t himself?
What would that mean for his career?
What would that mean for everything?
MITOCHONDRIAL MATCH:
NEGATIVE
“Admiral Jack Mattis, you are a bonafide human,” said Corrick sleepily.
It was a much bigger relief than it should have been. Mattis let out a breath that he didn’t even realize he’d been holding.
Yim stifled a strange little laugh. “You know, during the war, we used to joke that the Americans were genetic mutts; beings of such mismatched, untraceable lineage that they were basically no longer human. Guess that part was all Chinese propaganda.”
He snorted. “You should get tested too,” said Mattis, grinning a little bit. “Just in case it’s true what they were saying during the war… that the Chinese are bug-men collectivists who had long ago given up their humanity.”
“At least you’re being honest,” said Yim, rolling up his sleeve.
MITOCHONDRIAL MATCH:
NEGATIVE
“Not a bugman,” said Mattis.
“I’ll go next,” said Blair, rolling up her sleeve and looking away. “Just… make it quick.”
Doctor Manda stuck her too, then once again, tested her blood.
MITOCHONDRIAL MATCH:
NEGATIVE
Blair laughed nervously. “Is it weird to be worried about the result? Like, you know, as though…” she stammered a bit. “A-as though I knew it wasn’t going be positive, but I just… there was always just a creeping doubt in the back of my mind that wouldn’t go away. That wouldn’t be…” she trailed off.
“It’d be weird,” said Mattis, “if you weren’t worried.”
“Mmm,” said Blair, not seeming convinced. “We’re sure the machine works, right?”
“If you wanna check,” said Corrick, “make sure you do me. Pretty sure it’ll say yes.”
Doctor Manda took out a small chip. “We don’t have to worry about Sammy or Corrick’s blood,” she said. “We have samples left over from their surgeries. We can also do the rest of the crew this way, speed up the process, as long as they’ve had some kind of medical treatment aboard this ship.” She tapped the device onto the dish, then touched her wrist computer. “Let’s do Sammy first.”
Once again, the screen lit up; a bunch of symbols, letters, and numbers scrolled past, displaying nonsense, ending in a bright green flash.
MITOCHONDRIAL MATCH:
NEGATIVE
Reardon pumped his fist. “That’s my bro.”
“You called him an idiot before,” said Mattis. “Several times, in fact.”
“That’s just how it works. Big brothers picking on their little brothers is intergalactic law.”
Doctor Manda turned to Corrick. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” said Corrick, taking in a breath. “Hit me, doc.”
Carefully, Doctor Manda tapped at her wrist computer, and then touched the key to the plate again.
MITOCHONDRIAL MATCH:
NEGATIVE
“Whoa,” said Corrick, genuinely surprised. “Wait. I’m human too? No way.”
Doctor Manda tilted her head. “First scientific proof you have a brain, and now, scientific proof you are in fact a human being. Pretty soon, Lieutenant Corrick, you’re going to have scientific proof that all your fears and silly jokes are all in vain.”
She didn’t seem to take that very well, biting down angrily on her lower lip.
“This is a good thing,” said Mattis, trying his best to be reassuring. “It was just a hallucination. You’re human. Machine says so. So don’t worry about it.”
Corrick wouldn’t accept it. She pushed herself up onto her elbows. “It might be a false positive,” she said, stubbornly. “Just test me again. C’mon, test me again.”
“No. Corrick. You are human. And we have a lot of other tests to do.”
For a moment she seemed to accept it, but then, a strange look came over her. “Wait,” she said, “that blood. You said you took the samples during surgery?”
“That’s right,” said Doctor Manda, confused.
“And that was during the brain surgery, right?”
“Right.”
Mattis knew where she was going with this. “The clones,” he said, “are grown without brains. And another brain, presumably, is put inside it. So it might be blood from the real Lieutenant’s brain, but not her real body. But, admittedly, we know very, very little about Spectre’s process.”
Corrick stuck out her arm. “Doctor, let’s say you have a friend who wants to do something kinda risky, and she needs someone to help her out, and that friend is me and I need you to test my blood. Just this time fresh from the source.”
Although she seemed reluctant, Doctor Manda nodded and slid in a needle, pulled back the plunger, and deposited the pool of red blood onto the plate.
The machine whirred again, clicked, and then let out a loud gong.
MITOCHONDRIAL MATCH:
CLONE DETECTED
The noise echoed around the room. Mattis could have heard a pin drop.
“Fuck,” said Corrick, slumping back in her bed, staring at the screen, her mouth hanging open. “Fuck me, it’s real. I’m… I’m a clone.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Infirmary
HMS Caernarvon
Z-Space
The test had revealed Lieutenant Corrick was a clone. Mattis could not imagine what she was thinking.
“I’m not real,” she said again, stammering over her words. “I…I’m not real.”
“You are real,” said Mattis, resting his hand on her shoulder. He was surprised at how easily and genuinely the reassurance came. He felt nothing but pity. “It’s the same thing I told Pitt: you are what your actions make you. You’re real.”
“No I’m not,” said Corrick, her breath picking up. “And—and that means… oh god. That means I’m not the real Patricia Corrick. The real Patricia Corrick died in the battle of Chrysalis.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it. “This has… got to be difficult for you.”
Corrick seemed to struggle with the idea, shaking her head as though trying to clear out the cobwebs, trying to find something that would refute the giant red screen in front of her, then she just slumped down on her bed.
“Look,” he said, turning back to the screen. “When we tested the blood from your brain, it came up human. That means that while they cloned your body, they kept your brain. That means that whatever else you might be, you are definitely the one and true Lieutenant Patricia Corrick.” He smiled politely. “Just with a little upgrade.”
“Upgrade.” Corrick seemed to like the word. “Right.”
He wanted to spend some time with her, talking it over, but he couldn’t. “Okay, Doctor Manda, we need to start testing the whole crew, starting with Captain Spears.” He gave a polite smile. “You’re the only one with the authority to order her down
here. Do her first, then we’ll do Commander Blackwood, then work from the bridge crew down. Officers first, then enlisted, then any civilians we missed.”
Doctor Manda’s face scrunched up, and she tilted her head back slightly.. Mattis remembered, with a guilty stab, that she was not formally under his command, and he was not even British.
“Right,” said Doctor Manda, seeming to come to a decision on the matter. “I’ll get right on it.”
“I’m going to go check out my little bro,” said Reardon.
“Third door on the left. Try not to get lost, I’m not coming out there to find you.” Doctor Manda touched her radio. “Infirmary to bridge.”
“Speaking,” said Commander Blackwood, her voice tinny through the radio.
“I need Captain Spears down here immediately. Not urgently, but sharpish. ASAP.”
The request, as Mattis expected, clearly surprised her. “Can it wait? We’re about to have a shift change, and the Chinese have us on the horn, blathering a bunch of stuff about violating international protocol, and the Chrysalis representative is in on the call, blathering about breaking the NAP.” She stifled a laugh. “Believe me, I wish we had more witnesses to this because it is lovely.”
Mattis couldn’t help but chuckle along too.
“I’m afraid it can’t,” said Doctor Manda. “Wait, that is. Not for anything more important than critically urgent. Don’t worry, I’ll be calling you down pretty soon, too, so don’t get too attached to the bridge.”
Blackwood tittered down the line. “I practically live here, Doctor.”
The Last Strike: Book 5 of The Last War Series Page 21
