Rames regarded his exo speculatively. “Hmm. Let’s just say that, if it wasn’t for him, I’d be serving time in a military penitentiary right now. The rest is classified, but suffice to say, I owe that man my life. That, and more beside.”
CHAPTER TWO
When Hamilton regained his senses, he saw that he was in a small med-bay. Two men loomed over him. One was clearly a medic of some sort, judging by his attire. Hamilton had never seen him before. The other man, however, Hamilton did recognize, albeit he had aged a lot since the last time he had seen him. It took his addled brain a few moments to match the face with a name.
“Rames?” He managed to croak. His throat was raw.
A side-effect of the freezing/thawing process, no doubt. He thought. Those old cryo-capsules sure weren’t kind on their occupants.
In addition to the sore throat, he ached all over. It felt like he’d been worked over by a gang of thugs in a dark alley someplace. His vision was slightly off, as well, one minute pin-sharp, the next ever so slightly blurred.
“Hamilton.” Rames nodded. “So you do remember me?”
Hamilton attempted to snort in amusement but it sounded more like a sneeze. “How could I forget. We both nearly got hung out to dry back then.”
Rames glanced at the medic. “Thank you, Anderton, that will be all for the moment. I need to talk to Mr. Hamilton alone.”
Anderton nodded. “Of course. Don’t get him too excited, Captain. He’s still weak from the re-animation procedure.”
Rames nodded. “It’ll take more than me to get his pulse racing.”
The doctor nodded and left them alone.
Hamilton immediately adjusted his position in the bed, sitting up more so that he could see his surroundings better.
The med-bay was tiny, sporting only four beds. Endless lockers and cupboards lined the walls and there were two doors. One led to a glass-walled office that looked into the med-bay – no doubt the doctor’s office. The other, presumably, led to the rest of the ship.
A small ship. Hamilton thought. If the infirmary was anything to go by.
Rames cleared his throat. “So. You want to tell me how you ended up on a long-lost freighter?”
Hamilton shook his head slightly. “Not really. But I suppose I’d better come up with some sort of explanation, else you’ll throw me into the brig again.”
Rames looked pained. “You will never let me forget that, will you?”
Hamilton smiled. “Last time I was on a clandestine mission, so I refused to tell you anything. Throwing me into the brig was about all you could do, I guess. I forgive you for that, but I won’t ever forget!”
Rames scowled. “I had a much bigger ship to command then, too.”
Hamilton nodded, looking around. “This does seem a trifle smaller than the last one. What happened?”
Rames’ scowl deepened. “After the revelations of your mission back then, a lot of heads rolled. Military heads, top brass, civilian contractors. A lot of heads, Hamilton. As it happened, mine wasn’t one of them. Your findings exonerated as many people as they damned. However, the new, incoming, top brass decided there were too many people in positions of power that knew what had gone on. It was an embarrassment that they didn’t want surfacing any time soon. So, those of us who knew anything at all were... re-deployed. Usually to backwater systems and lonely outposts. Our reward for being honest officers was to be flung into obscurity with little, or no, prospects of further advancement.”
Hamilton frowned. “I’m sorry, Rames. I didn’t intend for any of that to happen.”
Rames glared at him a moment, then sighed. “Well, it did! Not your doing, I know. You just did your job, investigating corruption and collusion between the military and civilian authorities.”
“I guess I’m not very popular with those people.”
Rames shrugged. “Most of them don’t know who it was that brought them low, luckily for you! They just know it happened. Most of their anger, most of my anger, is directed at the people that sent me out here, not you.”
“Well, I’m sorry anyway.” Hamilton told him.
“Collateral damage.” Rames asserted. “It was probably inevitable.”
Hamilton was silent for a moment, thinking. “What happened with Brenna? I did my best… but I never found out what happened in the end.”
Rames sighed. “You did enough, as you promised. Her name came up and she would have spent the rest of her life in prison. But you managed to make it look like she was set-up for a fall by others. She did a small amount of time then was released.”
“You two didn’t reconnect, then?” Hamilton wondered.
Rames shook his head. “We knew what would happen if we got together again. The questions that would be asked. It was too risky. You got us both out of a hole. It would have been stupid to jump back in it.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t have fixed that better than I did.” Hamilton said.
Rames shrugged. “We’re both still alive and free. You did enough. Anyway. Enough about me. Your appearance here suggests something else is up. I’d like to know whether I’m about to be re-deployed again.”
Hamilton hesitated. “You were a good friend back then. I have the feeling that the less you know, the better off you’ll be.”
“That is not very reassuring.”
“I don’t do reassurances.” Hamilton admitted.
Rames was silent for a moment. “Maybe I should thaw out someone else and ask them?”
“That probably wouldn’t be terribly helpful.”
“Why not?” Rames asked. “Most of them are civilians or Survey Corp folk, according to their records. I think they’d be much more likely to be cooperative than you. Or do you think five years in a freezer will have addled their recollection of events?”
Hamilton’s surprise must have been evident.
Rames smiled. “That’s right. Five years. So chances are, whatever you were doing on that ship is long over and done with. So why don’t you tell me all about it?”
The Captain settled back in his chair and crossed his arms.
Five years. Hamilton mused. That changes things. Changes them a lot.
“Well?” Rames prompted.
Hamilton frowned. “Give me a minute, okay. I’m trying to figure out how five years changes this particular game.”
Rames scowled. “Trying to think up some convincing lie, no doubt.”
Hamilton scowled himself, thinking furiously. It was five years since the events in orbit of the Humal world. There was no telling what Walsh had gotten up to in that amount of time.
“Tell me,” He began. “What’s the state of the Empire?”
Rames looked puzzled. “Same as it always has been. Bureaucracy and red-tape. Slow expansion. Over taxation. All the usual bullshit.”
“Nothing…weird, going on?”
“Define weird.”
Hamilton’s brow furrowed. “Weird as in, I don’t know… people going missing, or acting strange. Anything unexplained, disappearances, odd events. That sort of thing.”
Rames thought about it for a moment. “Not that I’m aware of. But then, I’m out here on the edge of the frontier, thanks to your previous efforts. I don’t keep up with events in the core systems.”
“There must be something.” Hamilton persevered. “Anything odd in the last five years.”
Rames shrugged. “Worst thing I can recall is some terrorist bio-plague that wiped out a city on Sepharim Prime. Other than that it’s been a quiet few years.”
“Bio-plague?”
Rames nodded. “You’re better off asking Anderton the details, it’s more his thing. All I know is some new terrorist group sprang up, got hold of some virulent bio-weapon, and dumped it on some big city. They put it in the water supply, if I recall correctly. Killed tens of thousands.”
Hamilton mulled it over. It didn’t sound like anything Walsh might be involved with. Walsh seemed more like the sort to rely on good old fashioned mili
tary means to wipe out his enemies. Besides, when you could take over your opponents mind and body, there was little point in killing them like that. But five years was more than long enough for Walsh to have built a replacement for the Hope’s Breath and returned to the Humal world to reclaim the rest of his kind.
It was possible, of course, that Walsh had not survived the transmission from the Humal world into human space. There might well, in fact, be nothing at all to worry about.
So why do I feel like everything is about to go pear-shaped? Hamilton wondered.
“So.” Rames persisted. “Why not tell me what you’ve been up to?”
Hamilton sighed. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt. The others, in the freezers, all know the truth. I guess it won’t hurt to tell you.”
So Hamilton told him the whole story from his initial contact with Vogerian, all the way through to the last conversation he had with Walsh whilst his escape pod plummeted towards the Humal World.
Rames listened without interruption, though his facial expressions gave a good indication of his thoughts at various points during the tale. A mixture of incredulity and astonishment, for the most part.
Hamilton finished off the telling with the group’s exodus from the planet and its escape back to human space using the jury-rigged Morebaeus.
“You didn’t jury-rig it very well.” Rames observed.
Hamilton nodded. “Evidently. McDonald assured us it would work, though.”
“Was it McDonald that rigged the cryo-capsule to wake him up after a short period of time?” Rames inquired.
Hamilton nodded.
“Well, there’s your answer. He wasn’t all that good an engineer.” Rames explained. “He bungled his safety override procedure. That’s why he never woke up, even when his power cell failed. It’s a fairly safe bet he didn’t know as much about engineering as he made out.”
“He’s dead?”
Rames nodded. “Dead and rotted in his capsule, poor bastard. Incredibly, the rest of you survived his engine modifications.”
The two men were silent for a time before Rames asked. “So, you think this Walsh creature and his buddies made it back here into Imperial territory? That’s what you’re worried about?”
“Basically.” Hamilton agreed. “If he made it back, there’s no telling who, or what, he and his people could have infected.”
“It’s a pretty far-fetched story.” Rames told him. “Not many people are going to believe it. I’m not sure I should believe it. For all I know it’s just bullshit to keep me from looking elsewhere.”
“I know. It’s difficult to comprehend. That’s why we concocted a cover story that leaves out the alien part, and the location of the Humal world.”
Rames snorted. “You know that they’ll be an inquiry, right? You don’t just turn up with a ship lost for fifty years and a sob-story and expect to walk away. You and your companions will be grilled seven ways from Sunday. Chances are some of them will crack under examination.”
“I know. But what else can we do? We start babbling about aliens and one of two things will happen. Firstly, if Walsh didn’t make it back, some fool is going to send a ship out to that world and dig up the rest of his alien compatriots. Secondly, if he did get back here already, then it’s going to tip him off that I got back and force him to act. At the moment, if he’s here, he’s none the wiser.”
“The element of surprise, huh?” Rames smiled.
“Something like that.”
The Captain sighed. “Well, sorry to disappoint you. But your cover is already blown. We took images and ran them through the databases. You know that all military ships constantly transmit data back to their home-base. That query, along with your images, is already known to Tantalus Station, our base of operations. By the end of the day, it’ll be burst-transited to the major naval base at Aurica system. From there to HQ back at Sol. Then it will filter back out to all the other systems. In about four days time there isn’t going to be a system that doesn’t know you’re back in human space.”
Hamilton thought for a few moments. “Well then. I guess we need a new plan.”
“What’s this ‘we’ business?” Rames scowled. “I got involved in your schemes in the past and look where it got me!”
Hamilton sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I have no right to drag you into this again.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to help.” Rames added. “But something like this…I have a feeling you’d be better off just telling the truth. You know what the military are like. They’ll slap a quarantine on that world and that’ll stop any do-gooders, or aliens, from going there.”
“Walsh isn’t like us. To him such a blockade would just slow him down. He was always several steps ahead of me on the Hope’s Breath.” Hamilton frowned.
“Well, either way, I think you should let the authorities deal with this. I ..”
Rames was interrupted as Anderton returned, bearing a transparent data pane, through which they could vaguely make out words.
“You need to see this, Captain.” He said. “It just came in from Tantalus Station, marked alpha priority.”
Rames and Hamilton raised their respective eyebrows. Alpha priority was the military’s top message priority. It basically meant ‘stop whatever you’re doing and do what the message says at once.’
Rames reached out and took the pane, reading the message envelope on the screen. It clearly stated it was for his eyes only. Despite that, he remained seated next to Hamilton and thumbed the ident box displayed. It took some moments before the message accepted him as its rightful recipient and displayed the message.
Rames read it, a deepening frown registering on his face.
“Bad news?” Hamilton fished, cautiously. He exchanged a glance with Anderton, the medic, who had remained after delivering the data pane. The medic glanced at his captain, then nodded slightly to Hamilton. The man knew his captain’s facial expressions well.
Rames let out a loud breath. “Not bad, so much as puzzling. Apparently, I’m supposed to put a caretaker crew on the Morebaeus and take her and the Ulysses in tandem back to Tantalus Station. Once there I’m to dock the ships and remain aboard until arrangements are made to transfer all personnel to Q-section.”
“Q-section?” Hamilton frowned.
“Quarantine section.” Anderton offered. “All stations have them now, in case of plague or disease etc.”
“That’s not a plague ship you were flying on, is it?” Rames looked sharply at Hamilton.
“If it is, then it’s the slowest plague I ever heard of.” Hamilton answered. “We spent months aboard, trying to fix the drives enough to get home. No one got sick.”
“There are no pathogens in your system.” Anderton added. “Reanimation requires an awful lot of scans during the process. There’s no way anything got by me.” There was a hint of professional pride in his voice.
“Why quarantine us, then?” Rames scowled.
“Probably what we were discussing earlier.” Hamilton suggested, his glance flicking to Anderton.
“You think?” Rames looked thoughtful. He looked down at the message again, re-reading it. “It also says that, under no circumstances am I to thaw any of the survivors out. Anderton, you have made time-coded log entries about the reanimation, haven’t you?”
Anderton nodded. “It’s all marked from well before the message was received. We’re covered as far as obeying orders goes.”
Rames breathed a sigh of relief and tapped the data pane for a few moments, composing a reply, before hitting send.
“I’ve told them we’ve already thawed out one survivor for questioning, but that he remains unconscious. All other capsules are secure and still frozen. We’ll see what they make of that.”
It didn’t take long. Less than five minutes later the data pane chirruped as the reply arrived, also marked alpha priority.
Rames earlier frown turned to a scowl. “Apparently, I have been chided for my recklessness. I’m to
secure you in the brig. In addition, they are dispatching the destroyer Triton to ‘escort’ us home safely.”
Hamilton noted that even the medic bridled at the suggestion they couldn’t be trusted. He glanced at Rames.
“Looks like my story isn’t sounding so far-fetched now, after all?” He said to the captain.
Rames nodded slowly, thinking furiously. The he looked up at Anderton. “Eldon, would you mind going and finding Mr. Grimes and Major Harvan and asking them to join us down here. We have some things to discuss.”
CHAPTER THREE
“So why don’t you tell us again, Mr. Hamilton, in your own words, exactly how you ended up on a ship thought lost for fifty years.”
Hamilton glanced around the room at the suits present. All corporate big boys and military top brass. This inquest had really attracted the big guns. Of course he was very familiar with all their faces by now. This was the fourth time they’d called him in to repeat his story. Of course, they weren’t actually there. They were just visual representations projected onto the holo-slates that adorned the room, giving them a slightly translucent, ethereal look. The room was just a conference call chamber in Q-section’s medical isolation area. Hamilton was the only person physically present.
After his conversation with Rames, the pair had gone over the story he had concocted with the others of his group. It was too late to change it now, but Rames would be questioned as well, so he had to know the story so that he could relate it as if Hamilton had told him it as the truth.
Anderton, Rames’ medic, Grimes, his executive officer and Harvan, the Marine commander, had all been told the truth. Rames had served with them for some time and trusted them. Given the reaction of the military authorities to the reappearance of the Morebaeus, Rames had decided that more than just he and Hamilton should know the truth, in case anything happened to them. So the medic, marine and exo had been brought in on the deal. Between the five of them they had spent some time discussing their options.
The truth as they all knew it would remain hidden, of course. If Walsh was out there, the re-appearance of Hamilton would cause him some concern. Hamilton knew little of the alien that called itself Walsh, other than the information and feeling he had gained from his last minute conversation with him. But he had a feeling the alien would want to get rid of the loose end that Hamilton represented. Rames, Hamilton and the three officers had discussed that at some length and drawn up contingency plans for all the likely results.
A Taste Of Despair (The Humal Sequence) Page 3
