by K R Sanford
“You, Sir, you must be the third
“Yes, Mr. Walters, I am the third partner in the Corporation. I am Secretary / Treasurer. I handle the corporate business.”
Colonel Stiller cleared his throat catching Ryan’s straight-faced stare. He gestured with two fingers, “I would like to test a theory, Commander.”
“Go ahead Colonel, explain. What type of theory?”
“Military strategy, are there private stations onboard the Eagle for testing military games?”
“There are,” replied Ryan. “But hold on, Marty. If it’s privacy you need we can clear the room. You see, this station can connect with servers that give the user access to classified data. The other stations do not allow classified access. For all we know we have an informant sitting with us now.”
“I take your point, Ryan,” replied Stiller.
“See me after the demonstration,” answered Ryan with a suspicious smile. “I have an idea.”
Captain Clairy raised his hand. “Ryan, I need to get back to my crew,” he said lifting himself from his chair.
“I’ll walk you out,” replied Ryan. “Marty, Mr. Walters, got a minute. Ensign Chew, will you be kind enough to run the ship’s virtual tour, I‘m going to step out.”
Ensign Margaret Chew raised an eyebrow. She took a quick chomp on her gum. “Aye Sir,” she replied while flipping her long black hair back off her shoulders.
They walked into the antechamber away from the sounds of the bridge. Ryan closed the door to seal the soundproof chamber then spoke.
“You guys have known each other for a while. Come up with a plan and we will test it. You can set a trap. Use irresistible bait. Use the vanity of their prestige. Use flashy things of notoriety. Use the lure of tantalum crystals.”
Marty and Tomas looked at each other then looked back at Ryan and in unison shook their heads no.
“No,” said Marty.
“Don’t think so,” said Tomas.
“Why not?” asked Ryan with a quizzical stare. “It’s a good Idea.”
“My people are on it, Ryan. Our focus right now is working with your people, all your people, if you get my meaning,” said Marty.
“I don’t,” replied Ryan. “That is, I agree with you. Working with our people will be a positive step. We are ‘eyes up’ studying the inflections in body language. We study facial tics and hand movements of all new people on board, to help profile and locate a saboteur.”
“No one wants to create hysteria,” said Tomas. “Our counselors are very qualified people. They will do a very effective job at directing attention to natural core elements. We had a Zen nature deck onboard the Exodus for rest and recreation.”
“Well okay,” said Ryan. “I’m happy to announce; Marco’s holograph deck is functional. The ship is now divided into two new wings.
“I heard about the two new wings,” said Tomas. “Not a flying wedge?”
“A wedge and arched delta end buttresses for two hundred living quarters. We needed the extra housing,” replied Ryan. “It was Marco’s design. He likes to build. He says it’s organic.”
“Ol’ Marco,” said Marty, “Have you heard from Ameda?”
“Yes, replied Ryan, “And, as you suggest, all our people. The Amedans are our greatest ally. They are the most formidable tactical societies in the galaxy.”
“True, and yet we can’t seem to follow their example. We have compromised our own protocols,” said Marty. "We have no real firepower now. We lost our supplies so we will lose through attrition. We need reinforcements.”
“We are in agreement here” said Ryan. “How well did you lock down the bunker? This is the place that holds food and clothes for one half million people for fifty years, am I right?”
“The bunker will keep. The less said about the bunker the better. Okay?” said Marty cold and short.
“I heard that,” replied Ryan. “Enough said.”
“And, yes, that’s right,” said Marty perkier and a faint smile. “We can’t do anything now but enjoy the ride. We can’t do anything without costing lives.”
“I agree,” said Tomas. “I’m shocked to lose the Exodus. It feels like something beyond my control has robbed me of my insides. And, at the same time, I am elated all our people are safe onboard.”
“That’s right, we are all safe onboard. We are here,” replied Ryan.
“I guess the Island Planet will be fine without us,” rejoined Tomas. “And there will be more said about that. The Intersteller Forces do not give up on their commitments without a fight.”
“Again, protocols, Tomas,” reminded Marty. “Politics as well, got to let the politicians weigh in. We are cut off from our base of operations heading for the only safe haven we can find. We don’t have a ship large enough so we become guests onboard what is now a pirate ship. Who is protecting who now? The outlaws are in control.”
“You’re funny Marty. I’ll remind you of this fine speech all the way to Ameda,” said Ryan.
“I’m making a point of intent,” said Stiller.
“Okay,” replied Ryan with an air of caution.
“Ryan,” continued Stiller. “As the Commanding Officer of record, no one has authority over you. For the record, I’m saying.”
“Housekeeping,” said Ryan. “We like that. Hector and Marco appreciate everyone knowing this is a tight ship. And, as far as the people from The View, you will find them a well-run organization. Their business runs as well as any corporation with first class executives. These people don’t tolerate harassment in the work place, or abuses to their family. They are like any top professional organization only they pack weapons.”
I would also caution against speaking to someone you don’t know. When you speak to a youthful person, keep in mind, he or she might be a high ranking officer. These people go into training from their youth.
Also, if someone is extra polite to you, it’s code with these people. It means: they are packing a weapon. They are being courteous to give you a chance to respect yourself. They want you to know. It is your reasonable service to maintain ‘Quality of Value’ within yourself. They want to feel confident you can keep a secret. They want you to understand the Value of that knowledge. It is the driving force for protecting the interests of the organization. Advancing the interests of the organization is their Second Prime Directive. It is also our Second Prime Directive.”
“How do you know all this?” asked Walters.
Ryan smiled, “I guess you can say I’m schooled up. And I'm schooled through conversations with the Emperor Legion.”
“This is informative,” said Marty.
“More food for thought,” said Tomas. “Thank you. Now I must get back with my crew.”
“Of course,” replied Ryan, running his finger over the door sensor. Clairy stepped out and joined the others on the bridge. Marty and Walters followed.
They sat quiet in the red velvet seats while Ensign Chew monitored the 3D simulation. The seven levels displayed transparent views of the cargo compartments. The two new delta wings and the five story buttress showed in detail. Models of crewmen added help to the on-looker with a sense of scale. Ensign Chew finished at level three where double doors opened to a rose marble floor.
The lobby separated the cafeteria from the casino. At the left of the lobby was the cafeteria. Dim lighting gave the atmosphere the feeling for fine dining. On the right side of the lobby and between the Roman pillars was the casino. The well-dressed Vito Tarasco walked along the outer walls. He made frequent stops to straighten the floral arrangements and stack napkins.
His management style was that of the consummate task master giving quiet orders to his staff. When deciding the fate of a line of credit, it was with the discretion of a huddled conversation. Business was as if talking over the latest sports scores. To the guest who tended to drink too much the bar closed. He or she got escorted to their quarters for the night.
Ensign Chew put the 3D simulation on pause. The Eagle rem
ained rotating three feet above the table while she began the Q and A, “Are there any questions?”
Captain Walters raised his hand which caught the eye of Commander Ryan. Chew raised an eyebrow. She turned down the corner of her red lips. She replied, “Yes, Captain Walters.”
Ryan smiled in silent anticipation. He sensed a battle of wits between the young officers.
“Yes, Ensign,” said Walters moving his blonde hair off his forehead. “The people that run the casino and restaurant: Why are they called the People in the View?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “Why don’t you ask them?”
“Excuse me,” said Ryan, turning to Walters. “Is it important?”
“Is it?” replied Walters.
Ryan realized it was he who became the opponent in the battle of wits. This could prove embarrassing if the question was not given the respect it deserved. A small matter was Ryan’s thought.
“Ah, out of the mouth of babes, Mr. Walters: comes strength,” said Ryan. “Ensign Chew, ask Vito Tarasco to call me on my private line. I’m going to schedule the answer to this question in a larger forum. Yes, it is important, Mr. Walters.”
Walter’s sat back in his chair motionless. The Ambassador’s core glowed purple. Silver bolts formed crisscross patterns around his sphere. The matrix projected a royal cage for some unknown deity. Colonel Stiller sat straight up in his chair. He folded his hands on the table. A tone sounded from Ryan’s medallion.
Ryan tapped the medallion. “Yes, Sir: may I put you on speaker? . . . Oh, alright, very well. Someone asked; why are your people called: The People in the View. . . I’m sorry, Sir. . . Thank you. . . Oh, yes. It sounds like they are settling in well. . . Yes, there are. . . There are still about thirty treated in medical. . . That would be very kind of you, Sir. . . I’m sure they would be grateful for your help, Sir. . . Yes, Sir you do. I will send medical a message you will be there shortly. . . No; thank you, Sir.”
Ryan tapped his medallion and jiggled his earbud. “That was Vito,” he said.
Everyone nodded their head yes, but said nothing. Ambassador Gaff whispered, “Oh ho.” He waited for Ryan to explain the one-sided conversation. “He said, the explanation is a Need-to-Know Reading-in. When there is, Threat to Life, then you will have your Reading-in. He asked, if there are patients in intensive care, I said there was. He said; send the one who asked the question. You heard the rest.” Everyone nodded yes. Ryan waved a dismissing hand saying, “Let’s get out of here and find something useful to do.” Colonel Stiller jabbed his thumb at the door. He said something to Captain Walters about getting his butt down to Medical, STAT. Ryan and Marty walked into the antechamber. Ensign Chew would remain at the helm. She would watch the Eagle’s sensors on their remaining flight to Ameda.
Chapter 3
______________________________________________________
A WHEEL WITHIN A WHEEL
Round; like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel, never ending or beginning on an ever-spinning reel . . . Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind.
– Michel Legrand 1968,
“The Windmills of Your Mind”
Captain Walters reached the red doors of Medical. The waiting room was empty. Instinctively, Walters did not wait. He stepped in front of the examination corridor. He read the color coded lights above each doorway. He was looking for a row of triple green lights to show which staff was active inside. The green lights confirmed if physician, assistant and techs were present.
The door hissed open. He gazed around room. He found twelve examination tables arranged like spokes in a wheel. The wheel divided in four quarters. Each quarter had three tables and an isle on either side for the staff to move about. In the center of the circle was a 3D image of the patient. A personnel chart floated above the head of each table. The projection turned while the patient completed the examination and treatment.
On the outer walls was a viewer for the patient to interact with his treatment and personal needs. Walters, taking in all he surveyed felt like he was inside a wheel within a wheel. He spotted Captain Clairy standing next to a shorter man talking to one of the patients. He walked over and stood next to Clairy.
Captain Clairy was listening to the words of the other until the other stopped. He reached out a hand to Walters. “Hello, Vito Tarasco, he said. “You look like you have a question?”
The sound of Vito Tarasco’s voice took him by surprise. There was something in the quality of his voice. It was a mixture of tones that produced a rich harmony. There was a casual range of expression that Walters understand. It was one of the reasons people said, yes Sir and no Sir, Mr. Tarasco.
Walters took Vito’s hand, “I’m Jim Walters,” he said. “I’m Captain, under Colonel Stiller. Please don’t let me interrupt.”
“You see Tomas, politeness wins the day. You’re not interrupting, Captain. Actually, we’re only now getting started.” Vito leaned in, still holding Walters hand in a manner of being personal. “You know, we have so many Captains running around here I may need to use your first name. May I call you Jim, and you call me Vito, deal?”
Jim smiled affirming the deal. He released Vito’s hand shake and said, “The explanation, Sir, about the View?”
“I’ll get to that, Jim,” replied Vito. “Say hello to Commander Mark Rylie. He’s under Captain Clairy.” Vito made a quick motion of his hand at the patient on the examination table. Walters stepped around and acknowledged the Commander then looked to Vito.
“He has developed a life threatening infection,” said Vito. “It's a compound infection that attacks the blood. We see this all the time in battle field wounds. It’s the sepsis. Now, talk to Commander Rylie, don't nod your head; engage with the man.”
Without another word Walters stepped around to make eye contact. Commander Rylie seemed to be in some type of hypnotic trance. “How you feeling, Sir; Commander?” asked Walters.
The Commander tilted his head as if possessed by a wild animal. He stared at Walters like a predator trying to catch its prey off guard. His mouth opened, saliva dripped through his teeth. A guttural growl resonated in his chest. His eyes flashed with the warning of a beast ready to strike.
Walters stepped back. He turned to Vito. “What is this?” asked Walters.
Vito moved the conversation away from Commander Rylie’s treatment table. “He’s having fun,” said Vito. “He’s in concert with a very powerful entity. He’s in a battle for his life. This infection wants to kill him and he knows that. This is one part of what we call, The View. Our DNA has piggyback DNA that we can task to defend the host. These life-forms allow the symbiosis to continue so both species can survive. Nature has a way and has its favorites too. Now there’s a dichotomy for you. The Commander is in complete control of a powerful mechanism living within him. And yet, neither he nor any of us has control over Nature’s big picture. How does that make you feel, Captain Walters?”
“Cool,” said Walters.
“Cool, ha? Well, alright,” replied Vito turning to Clairy. “He doesn’t get it.”
“How does one activate the process, Mister Tarasco?” asked Clairy. “I have a lot of sick people down here.”
“Yes; and the medical staff are doing wonderful things. First thing, make yourself available. Look into the needs of your people. Then, decide if you are doing all you can. And if you don’t know, ask around. There’s no shame in not knowing what to do. Ask the Ambassador how to use the knowledge. You won’t ask the right questions unless you have a clear need. And they won’t help you unless you can explain what is so valuable. You will need to explain why you need life evolving secretes. After all, once you learn how to evolve, what else are you going to do with this knowledge, Right? In this part of the galaxy we don’t patch you up and send you away. We teach you how to fish so you can take care of yourself. It’s an old analogy but sustainable. Am I over simplifying?”
“I have no idea,” replied Clairy.
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Walters stood silent with a quizzical smile.
“You find something amusing, Walters?” Vito didn’t wait for an answer. He turned without another word and walked out of the treatment ward.
“What do you make of that,” asked Walters.
“I wanted to say,” replied Ryan. “He has given me food for thought. But, since you’re the only one here, I’ll ask you straight out. What the hell are you still doing here? Why aren’t you getting your butt back to the bridge? While you’re there tell Gaff I want to see him at his earliest.”
“If it’s about the Amedan knowledge, I’d like to be in on that,” said Walters.
“That’s fine,” replied Clairy. “And one more thing, invite Ensign Chew to tag along, okay?”
“I got it,” said Walters walking out the treatment ward. He made a hand wave gesture of goodbye behind his head.
Clairy was hoping the next two years with Walters will pass uneventful. By then, something might occupy the young Captain. Clairy wondered if we all acted as obnoxious as Walters at that young age of twenty-one. Or was he inflected with the low self-esteem like the people in security. Clairy sensed a feeling of alienation pass through him. He glanced at Commander Riley occupied with his fight to the death infection. Clairy wanted to be alone with his thoughts. To be alone with him and his need to look out at space. No one else except a cup of black coffee and the stars. Clairy put himself on a heading for the observation deck.
“Great view, don’t you think?” said a female voice.
Clairy, intrigued, turned his head. He turned to the left then to the right. He was making a subtle search for the body that possessed the compelling voice. He froze. He stood as still in front of the stone counter that was set in an arched alcove along the back wall. He blew a breath across the top of his coffee. He noticed the billowing steam was a bit too much for his liking. He stirred his coffee as to not make a sound before he began his game with the disembodied voice. He reached up and passed his hand in front of some invisible control sensors. He was making the movement to lure his quarry into giving up something unaware.
