He answered her grin. “No, I didn’t. You don’t work for me. You’ve kept your part of our bargain. From here on out you’re passengers.”
Lar snorted, and Lady Jane got a dangerous expression. “You mean you just want us to sit around on our hands? Don’t tell me you’re going to pull that ‘military business’ crap on me!” A flush began creeping up her neck.
Kas could see trouble coming. “No, no! That isn’t what I meant, at all! Uh, I just meant that you’re not under my command. You don’t have to do anything. No, I’d be delighted to have your help!”
The flush began to recede. Lar, standing behind Lady Jane, was struggling to suppress laughter. Her eyes suddenly narrowed, and she whirled to confront him, hands on hips. “And what are you grinning at, you elongated slith?” She demanded.
Lar raised his hands in front of his face. “Nothing, Lady, nothing at all! Uh, Commodore,” he continued in a desperate attempt to sidestep her anger. “Both of us have current suit quals. I’d be happy to help Toj get that bio lab set up.” Kas nodded, and Lar fled. Now Kas was the one struggling to suppress a grin.
Lady Jane turned back to Kas, and her expression relaxed into a smile. “All right. What do you want me to do?”
Kas shrugged. “You could help Rom run that refresher. Based on what I've seen so far on this mission, I suspect that Edro and Tera, at least, are pretty rusty.” He relaxed. “I’m really going to need them shortly. And once their quals are up to date, you can help teach a bunch of civilian med techs.”
She rolled her eyes. “Now that could be a challenge!”
Tera was waiting outside the door. “Sir, could I borrow that poor boy’s diary chip? You tell his story so well that . . . well . . . I’d like to hear the original.”
Kas nodded and she accompanied him to his cabin, where he gave her the copy of Lieutenant Fan-Jertril’s memoir.
He’d barely returned to the wardroom for a cup of caf when Gran hailed him to tell him that the head med tech was awake. “He’s screaming to be taken to his lab and demanding to see the person in charge immediately.”
Kas rolled his eyes. “Oh, no. All right, tell him I’ll be there shortly.”
The man shouting at Gran was not physically impressive. He was short and pudgy, with thinning black hair trying vainly to cover his gleaming pate. Clad only in a sheet, he did not appear to be having notable success in intimidating the Lieutenant.
Gran turned to him with obvious relief. “Thank you for coming down, sir.”
The small man whirled to face Kas. “Are you in charge here?” He demanded, interrupting Gran. “Tell this cretin to fetch my clothes immediately! This is intolerable! I demand to get dressed and be shown to my room immediately! If this is any indication of how the fleet operates, it’s no wonder the Empire’s going to the canines!”
Kas clamped down on his temper. “I’m Commodore Kas Preslin,” he replied. “And you are . . .”
“Doctor Ver Ro-Lecton,” Gran hastened to supply. “He’s in charge of the medical team.”
The man sniffed. “Hmph. I am Director of Epidemiology at the Empire Center for Disease Control,” he proclaimed, “not just head of some team. Preslin, eh? Outerworlder, no doubt. Hmph. Now please have my clothes fetched immediately and begin resuscitating my staff. Some of us have work to do.”
Kas’ eyes narrowed, and his seething temper threatened to erupt despite his efforts at control. “You don’t have any clothes here, Doctor,” he explained. “You will be wearing a shipsuit like the rest of us.”
The little man waved dismissal. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I have clothes. I brought three suitcases aboard.”
Kas suppressed an evil smile. “Oh, yes. I remember, now. You’re the fool that brought all that luggage to the field despite strict instructions that you would only be permitted a small canister of personal effects.”
Ro-Lecton snorted. “Certainly that requirement didn’t apply to me!”
Kas shook his head in mock sadness. “Certainly it did apply to you. As far as I know your bags are still sitting on the blast apron at Prime base, if they haven’t been stolen by now.”
The little man looked stunned. “Impossible! You wouldn’t! You didn’t!”
“I would. I did. There was a reason for that limitation, Doctor. We were well searched on our way here. If your luggage had been aboard it would have betrayed the fact that we were not what we claimed to be. Your vanity would have endangered the entire mission.”
Ro-Lecton started to reply, but Kas bulled on. “Now, I suggest that you put on your shipsuit. Then you and I can go to my cabin, where we have much to discuss.”
Shaking with anger, Ro-Lecton donned the shipsuit, muttering the whole while about uppity barbarians.
As soon as they reached Kas’ cabin, Ro-Lecton began repeating his litany of outrage before he even sat down.
Kas whirled on him. “Shut up and sit down!” He snapped, seething with anger. The startled Doctor, stunned by Kas’ obvious fury, sat.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Kas forestalled him. “All right, Doctor,” he spat, “Let’s get this situation clarified right now. First. You are not in charge here. I am. This is a military operation and I command it. That man that you were ordering around like a servant down there is a highly trained Fleet officer. He does not have to tolerate that kind of abuse from a civilian, and I will not permit it to happen again. There are no servants here, and except for two guests you are the only civilian now awake. You will treat all Fleet personnel with courtesy and consideration. Is that clear?”
Ro-Lecton jumped to his feet. “You can’t talk to me like that! You have no right . . .”
Kas keyed the intercom, interrupting the man’s tirade. “Rom, would you come to my cabin, please? Bring a sidearm.” He turned back to the small man. “Now, I don’t know if this pompous ass routine is just an act you use to intimidate subordinates, or if you are really as stupid and fatuous as you seem. But either way it will not be tolerated here. You are under military authority out here -- mine. And that means that I will enforce military ideas of discipline. Is that clear?”
The little med tech sputtered in speechless outrage. “How dare you talk to me in such a fashion? I’ll have you cashiered for this!” Kas let him continue his tirade until there was a knock at the door. At Kas’ growled “Come in”, Rom stepped through.
Kas nodded and winked at Rom before roaring, “Silence!” at the still-complaining Ro-Lecton.
“Doctor,” he resumed when the man fell silent, “You obviously have no concept of the meaning or extent of military discipline. Rom, aim your weapon at Doctor Ro-Lecton.” Suddenly the doctor was staring openmouthed at the belled muzzle of a blaster only centimeters from his nose.
“Now kill him.” Kas continued.
Ro-Lecton’s head jerked to stare at Kas, then back to Rom’s finger, slowly tensing on the firing stud of the blaster. He snorted derisively, but there was an edge of fear in his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare harm me!” He exclaimed. But his eyes were glued to Rom’s trigger finger as it continued taking up slack in the trigger stud. “No!” He suddenly bleated. He slipped from his chair to his knees, a dark stain spreading at the crotch of his shipsuit. “Please!” he begged.
“Stop, Rom,” Kas said softly. Rom’s finger relaxed but the blaster remained sighted on the civilian’s head. Kas felt a flood of pity, shame, and embarrassment for the man’s obvious terror. Rom’s expression mirrored his own feelings.
Ro-Lecton slumped in relief. Then he raised his head to stare at Rom. “You were really going to kill me!” he said in an accusing tone.
Rom shrugged. “Of course. The Commodore ordered it.” His tone was offhand.
Kas sighed. “Put it away, Rom. And get Doctor Re-Lecton a clean shipsuit, will you?” Rom nodded, then threw Kas a quick grin and wink behind the civilian’s back and slipped out.
“Now, Doctor,” Kas said as the man shakily resumed his seat. “I didn’t do this to humiliate
you. It was obvious that you had absolutely no idea what you’d gotten into, and that you weren’t prepared for explanations. Oh, I could have spent the next several hours trying to explain it to you but you wouldn’t have been listening, and I didn’t have the time to pander to a pompous fool.”
“But now, perhaps you understand the difference between a civilian director and a military commander. I ordered Rom to kill you. If I hadn’t stopped him he’d have done it. If he’d refused, I could have had him shot for dereliction of duty. If he had done it, he would not have been held responsible; I would. But I would have been responsible to my superiors only insofar as justifying the need for your death. It would not be considered murder as long as I could provide a reasonable explanation of its necessity in terms of my mission.”
He sighed. “Now. If we’re quite finished playing games and you finally understand who’s in charge, we can get down to business. Despite the fact that we got off on the wrong foot I’m depending on you. If your people can’t complete their part of the mission, we’ll have to push an Empire warship into this system’s sun. That will not please the Emperor. A battle cruiser costs billions of crowns and takes years to build.
“It wouldn’t please me, either. I didn’t bring this ship and these people all the way out here, and kill a hundred and fifty people just to push the Rekesh into the sun and return home.”
Ro-Lecton looked stunned. “A hundred and fifty . . .”
Kas nodded and interrupted him. “Yes, a hundred and fifty people. It was necessary for me to destroy a Glory corvette in order to get you out here.”
The med tech was regaining his equilibrium. “Oh. Well, they were only. . .”
Kas interrupted again. “Only what, Doctor? Only military people? Or only Glories? Either way they were people, Doctor. People trying to do their duty. I might not have liked them personally, or liked their ideas of duty, or liked what they believed in. But they were people, Doctor. Military people just like me. They threatened my mission, and I did my duty.”
He sighed. “Now, Doctor, it’s time for you to do your duty.”
Ro-Lecton looked uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Admiral. I didn’t realize how that sounded. And I apologize for my manner.”
Kas nodded and relaxed slightly. “It’s ‘Commodore’, not ‘Admiral’.” He sighed again. “Look, Doctor. I’m going to be brutally honest with you. In my experience, scientific and medical types who become ‘directors’ and ‘administrators’ and ‘chairmen’ fall into two categories.
“First, there’s the man who is very good at what he does. He becomes so good that he is promoted frequently, and honored and respected by his peers. At some point he is offered an administrative position as a ‘Director’ or ‘Chairman’ or something. It’s generally sold as being an honor, recognition of his standing in his profession. It’s only after he accepts that he learns it’s really a trap -- that he is no longer permitted to actively do what he has loved. Instead, his life now consists of bullying and wheedling and cajoling politicians and fat cats in pursuit of funding. That type is not usually very happy, but they feel that they can’t resign. For them Administration is a tragedy.”
“The second type is completely different. Generally they’re only mediocre-to-competent in their chosen field. They recognize this fairly early on, and do their best to move from direct pursuit of their specialty into some sort of administrative position. These are the people who quickly move into positions such as ‘Assistant to the Deputy Administrator’ or some other glorified clerical position. Since they’re better at administration and politicking than science or medicine, they progress up that ladder instead of the technical side.”
Kas shrugged. “I sincerely hope that you’re the first type, Doctor. We can’t afford the second. The Rekesh had a full complement of medical staff, and they were completely unable to isolate or cure whatever was killing the crew -- and them.”
Ro-Lecton relaxed slightly. But there was something in his eyes that told Kas that the little doctor would neither forgive nor forget the terror and humiliation he’d endured. “You may be assured, Commodore,” he said in a patient, condescending tone, “that my skills are neither ‘mediocre’ nor merely ‘competent’. At the risk of sounding immodest, had you bothered to consult any of the many sources available you’d have found that I am considered the Empire’s premier Epidemiologist. I was sent a letter signed by His Imperial Highness himself asking me to head this mission!” He paused for a moment. The pride in his tone had been unmistakable.
“Now,” He resumed in a businesslike voice, “How soon can we begin work? When can you have my team resuscitated? When can we move to the . . . whatever it was . . . the big ship . . .”
Kas frowned. “There seems to be a misunderstanding, Doctor. You won’t be going aboard Rekesh for some time. Until you’ve finished your work, in fact. We have what I have been told is a complete portable bio lab aboard. The lab is being set up in the cargo bay as we speak. It will have its own atmosphere supply and an airlock with full decontam built in. Once it’s set up, we’ll be evacuating the hold. That means that you and your people will have to wear suits to and from the lab. I’m taking no chances with this thing.”
Ro-Lecton frowned. “I doubt my people have much, if any, experience with spacesuits. Of course, we’re all skilled at working in isolation suits, so perhaps it won’t be much different. What I don’t understand, Commodore, is why we can’t just work aboard the. . . Rekesh? I was told that she had a fully equipped bio lab.”
Kas nodded. “She does.” He sighed. “You really don’t seem to understand the situation, Doctor. The Rekesh is a dead ship. She’s been dead for over a century. No atmosphere. No gravity. No power. The last survivors shut her down completely, and then opened her to space.”
“Opened her to space? You mean the whole ship’s been in vacuum for over a century?”
Kas nodded again. “We think so, Doctor, though we haven’t verified that by searching through her.”
Ro-Lecton looked puzzled. “Then why do you need us? I mean, no microorganism could survive a century of the vacuum and cold of space.”
Kas shrugged. “Don’t you mean ‘known microorganism’, Doctor?”
Ro-Lecton flushed. “Of course. Sorry.”
“We don’t know what the ship might have picked up,” Kas continued, “or where. The ship’s last Commanding Officer left us a log crystal with his diary on it and several crystals that he gathered in the med lab, in hopes that their work would give us a head start. Weren’t you given those crystals, Doctor?”
Ro-Lecton nodded. “Yes, of course. But whoever gathered them wasn’t a medical man. The crystals are incomplete, and fragments. The first thing on my “to do” list is to board the ship and get the rest of the crystals from it. They’ll provide us with a starting point. Them and any cadavers that might have survived.”
Kas chuckled grimly. “Cadavers are no problem, Doctor. The bodies of the crew were gathered up and put into cargo nets in the hangar bay, which was then decompressed. They’ve been frozen in vacuum for a hundred years, waiting for you -- and for a decent burial. But Doctor,” he added, “Please don’t forget that these are not just frozen cadavers donated to a medical school for study. They are Fleet crewmembers who died doing their duty. They are to be treated with respect.”
The little doctor’s grin was rueful. “Yes. As you can see, I’m unaccustomed to working in space. In most epidemics, getting undecomposed corpses to study can be a difficult task. Here, it appears to be the easiest and getting to and from the lab will be the hardest. Odd.” He shrugged. “But it’s still vital that I get aboard that ship and retrieve their medical files -- all of them. There’s no sense even beginning work until we learn what was done by the ship’s medical personnel.”
Kas explained to the doctor that it would be several days at least before his entire twelve-person team was revived. He also reminded Ro-Lecton that he could not board the plague ship until he had learned t
o move and work in a suit -- at least a week.
Ro-Lecton howled. But Kas couldn’t relent. There was no way to get the doctor on board the plague ship except in a suit -- and suits contain so many ways for its wearer to kill himself that it would be criminally careless to allow Ro-Lecton to board Rekesh without a proper suit check-out.
“Now,” Kas continued when Ro-Lecton paused for breath, “You’ll need to give Gran a list of the people you need revived and the order in which you’ll need them, so he can begin waking them. While they’re being revived, I’ll have one of my crew give you a quick suit checkout. Then you can examine the bio lab and I’ll take you over to Rekesh myself.”
Lady Jane took Ro-Lecton in hand for an accelerated vacuum-suit qualification.
Chapter 9
Kas called a crew meeting. “I’m concerned about security,” he began. “If that alarm we set went off right now, we’d be nearly helpless. Oh, we’d have time to get the lasers on-line, but they wouldn’t be much protection against a frigate or destroyer.”
Lady Jane was frowning. “You don’t really believe that the navies of the Alliance or the independents would attack us, do you, Kas? I mean, well, maybe the Glory. They consider anyone who doesn’t share their beliefs less than human. But the others . . .”
Rom snorted. “I know Admirals in the Imperial Fleet who wouldn’t be above a bit of murder for a prize like the Rekesh!”
Kas nodded. “Rom is right. The skipper who brought the Rekesh back to one of the independents would be a planetary hero. Nobody would bother asking uncomfortable questions.”
“So,” he continued, “It’s essential that we get some protection. Toj, how long before that bio lab is operational?”
The big man frowned in thought. “I should have it ready by lunch tomorrow. Then we can decompress the cargo bay to test for leaks.”
Kas nodded again. “All right. As soon as you can, decompress. If there’re no leaks leave the bay in vacuum and run out the lasers. They’re not much protection, but they’re what we’ve got.”
Death Ship Quest Page 14
