Star Rebels: Stories of Space Exploration, Alien Races, and Adventure

by Audrey Faye

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “I’ve had nothing but good reports about you, Gutierrez.”

  “Yes, sir.” What did he mean by that? Her service record was exemplary. It was one of the main reasons she couldn’t understand why she’d been sent here.

  “You are not happy with this assignment.”

  “Sir?” Emma nearly fell out of her controlled stance. “Permission to speak freely?”

  “Granted.”

  “My place is with the twenty-fourth. In combat. This isn’t what I was trained for. The blockade—”

  “I appreciate your frustration,” he said, leaning against the edge of his desk.

  Being Earth-bound couldn’t have been any more pleasant for him.

  “But orders are orders. I suspect you know that.”

  She nodded.

  “I have an assignment for you. A sensitive assignment.”

  Her heart raced but she waited. It was one of the first things you learned as a recruit. To wait. To relinquish any expectation of explanations. Life in the military wasn’t all that much different from growing up in the settlements in that regard: someone else always had more authority and rank.

  “We have reason to believe that our security has been breached.”

  That was no real surprise. It just confirmed why they were relocating to the orbital lab.

  “Dr. Dauber may have been compromised.”

  Emma stiffened. A serious accusation. The man was annoying, but there was no denying he was driven. He and May barely slept, barely left their main lab and their computer.

  “The relocation order has spooked him and we believe he’s delaying in order to smuggle his data out before the move.”

  Commander Brent studied her but she wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he was looking for. “What are my orders, sir?”

  He let out his breath in the smallest of exhales. “Dauber and May’s project is vital to the Commonwealth. It may very well be the turning point in this war.”

  Her head snapped up. There were rumors about the blockade. About rebel colonists and suicide missions. About heavy losses on both sides.

  Pushing away from his desk, Commander Brent walked toward her until he stood uncomfortably close. It took all of her discipline not to step back.

  “Yes, your work here is more important than you know.” He lowered his voice as if they could be overheard through the sound-masking walls. “These next twelve hours are especially critical. I need you to watch Dauber. You should be able to stay close. The two of them trust you.” The commander quirked his lips into a brief smile. “At least they’ve stopped sending daily memos complaining about their babysitters, so you and Ensign Odachi must have done something right.”

  They were not the first team to be their primary guards. She wondered what had happened to the prior pair. The rest of their detail rotated in from the commander’s security ranks, but she and Odachi were never assigned anywhere other than to the lab and to Dauber and May, supervising twelve hour shifts, which were wearying and wearing.

  “Will I be coordinating with Ensign Odachi?”

  “No.”

  That made no sense. He was her commanding officer. “Then who? Will I report directly to you?”

  Brent resumed his pacing. “Because of the nature of Dauber and May’s work, we can’t trust the security of any communications outside of this room. Once you leave here, you’re cleared to act on your own authority. Understand, what they’re working on cannot fall into enemy hands. If you obtain evidence of his treason, or detect any compromise in the lab’s security you must take action.”

  Emma’s mouth dried. She did stumble out of her stance, then. As Brent watched silently, she wiped her clammy hands on her trousers.

  “This is war, soldier, and you have been authorized to use deadly force. Do you understand?”

  She swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

  “Dismissed.”

  Emma bent down, gasping when her right arm swung away from her body. There was no time to bind it. The smoke from the lab would travel fast and poison all the oxygen in the room.

  A high-pitched frantic voice screamed from behind her. “Chaz! Chaz! No!”

  Emma glanced back. Dr. May was twisting wildly trying to break Ensign Odachi’s hold. She was clutching a to-go box from the commissary. There was no one else. Where were the guards on duty? Why weren’t there building-wide alarms? The fire suppression should have been activated by now.

  Brent’s orders tumbled through her thoughts: cleared to act, evidence of treason, deadly force. Someone had acted, but who? And under who’s authority?

  Her mind seemed to have taken a wormhole trip without her body. Time expanded and sped up simultaneously, but the smoke that continued to billow out into the hallway followed its own deadly trajectory.

  Emma ducked into the lab and slammed into the wall of boxes she had helped Dauber stack less than an hour before. The impact jarred her injured arm. Pain burst through her like afterimages of the detonation in the room.

  Burning polymers turned the smoke thick and oily. Emma took small sips of air through the cloth of her left sleeve. “Dauber!” Her call ended in a cough that pulled more smoke into her lungs and set her eyes watering.

  Against her better judgment and all her instincts, she moved further into the lab, crawling with her left arm, her right dragging along the floor in passive agony. There was still some cooler air down there, but it wouldn’t last much longer.

  Get in. Find Dauber. Pull him out. She only had a few minutes. Maybe less. Visibility was almost nil, but she knew the room. The roughly rectangular shape sketched itself out in her head. Dauber’s desk was about a meter directly in front of her. If he were there, she stood a chance of rescuing him. If not, and she stayed any longer, they would both be dead.

  Was that the point? Brent had given her an impossible job to do in an impossible time frame. And without the resources she needed. Why?

  Not why the orders. If there was a security breach, it had to be sealed. But why her? Emma knew she was competent. Her weapons ratings were the highest in her company. She’d received several commendations for her leadership ability, but competent or not, she was only an enlisted soldier. Replaceable mass in anyone’s jump calculation.

  No one would open an investigation if she vanished. She had no family. Her death benefit was set to get added to a widows’ and orphans’ fund for the families of deceased soldiers. And her spot was already filled in the 24th.

  Brent had chosen her. And it didn’t make sense. Nothing about this made sense.

  Each time she lurched forward, Emma paused and swept her left hand in an arc in front of her. Nothing. The stainless floor was getting warm beneath her. Time was running out. She hitched closer to Dauber’s desk and this time when she reached her arm out, it connected with its metal leg. And a shoe. The smoke coated her nose and lungs with a caustic heat. Taking a full breath was impossible. Her head swam as if she had been spaced without air. Even that would be a more merciful death than this.

  She yanked hard on the foot. Dauber’s body slid a few centimeters from under his desk. Grunting with the effort, she pulled him closer. There was no time to assess his condition. They had to get out. Now.

  Her right arm was less than useless. Her left hand kept slipping off Dauber’s leg. She went to wipe her hand dry and blood sheeted off it. Dauber’s blood. His leg was slick with it and it spilled onto the floor in a pulsating flow that diminished to a trickle as she watched.

  Arterial flow. And then nothing. Emma gasped, choking on thickening smoke. She pulled with increased urgency, but something had trapped him and she couldn’t get him free of the desk.

  Dauber and May must be something if all this force and infrastructure existed to safeguard their work. Emma stopped short in the hallway. A pair of patrolling corporals bumped into her. She shook out of her thoughts, apologized, and headed to the lab.

  Dauber was yelling at Odachi when
she stepped in.

  “… can’t just unplug it all and carry it away. Some of these machines were built in this room.” He ran his hands through his thick, curly hair. “Do you have any idea how hard taking an AI off line and recalibrating it will be?” Dauber didn’t wait for Odachi’s response. “Of course you don’t. Why do I even bother?”

  Of their two charges, Dauber was the animated one. The passionate one. May had the steadier temperament. They did seem to make a good team. Emma paused at the door and frowned. Was the woman under suspicion, too?

  Dauber kept talking into Odachi’s silence. “Be reasonable. This is a university research facility. You and Gutierrez can’t just field strip my equipment and move on.”

  Emma jerked her head up at hearing her name. Through Dauber’s harangue, Odachi stood calmly, his narrow face expressionless. Normally, that would de-escalate a situation, let the angry party burn through their emotion, but Dauber’s cheeks remained as red as a warning light and he strode through his lab sweeping papers and the remnants of a food tray from a deeply pitted metal desk. Resin bowls and dishes clattered to the ground.

  “Dr. Dauber?” She kept her voice soft and low. The papers settled like dried leaves. “Perhaps we all need to take a step back.”

  The two men turned to her.

  “We all get how vital your work is. What resources do you need to make this move happen?”

  Odachi looked like he wanted to reprimand her, but there was also curiosity in his gaze. Then he nodded, content to let her continue playing her version of ‘good cop.’ If only he knew what had just taken place in Brent’s office. If only she knew what he knew.

  “This is for your own safety. We’re under orders, Dr. Dauber,” Odachi said.

  “Yes. I know. There’s always some order or another, some more urgent command.”

  Dauber thundered across the room and loomed over the much smaller ensign. Odachi stood his ground, his stance balanced, his right hand resting near his sidearm.

  What would Dauber do if he thought they were going to dismantle his lab here and now? She needed proof and she wouldn’t get it in the middle of a tantrum, real or fabricated. Keeping pressure on him was important, but so was having the time to assess the authenticity of any threat he might pose. She caught Odachi’s eye and shook her head to signal him before stepping in close to Dauber.

  “Show me what needs to be done.” She made a point of turning to Odachi. “Sir? I suggest we reconvene here in four hours.” That would be enough time for the ensign to get some rest and for her to get a better sense of Dauber’s motives in delaying the move.

  Both men nodded and backed off from one another. Dauber strode across the room to his computer array. Odachi studied her, his gray eyes narrowed, before he left the lab. The ensign was always hard to read, but there was no mistaking the anger in his percussive footfalls and the slammed door. Figuring out what her immediate supervisor knew was going to be a challenge, but Dauber was her main mission.

  “How can I help, Dr. Dauber?”

  He turned and studied her. “You do know the work Ada and I are doing here is highly classified,” Dauber said. “I could explain it to you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  It was hard to tell if the glint in his eye was from genuine humor or manipulation.

  “I don’t need to know the nature of your project to assist in moving your gear.” She watched him carefully. “This isn’t up for negotiation. You’re here by order of the Commonwealth, just as I am. Just as Ensign Odachi is.” She waved her arm in the direction of the door. “No matter what your position was outside these walls, here you’re part of a chain of command, whether you like it or not. So how do we begin?”

  Dauber twisted his lips as if he’d tasted something bitter, but it was no less true for being unpleasant. Just as the Commonwealth supported Emma’s training, it funded his research, and there were strings attached. There were always strings attached. The real question was how much was Dauber pulling back?

  He rubbed his eyes and collapsed into his desk chair. “Fine. This isn’t your fault.”

  Emma stood at parade rest, waiting for him to continue.

  Leaning forward, he slid open a desk drawer and pulled out a slim tablet. “Most of my notes are in this, but I’m going to need all of those papers, too. If you can start on those shelves over there, I can do today’s backup. Then when Ada’s ready, she can help me with Mnemosyne.”

  Their computer. Emma tried not to smirk. There were soldiers she knew who named their weapons, but ascribing a kind of identity to a tool seemed terribly precious. And somewhat out of character for two brilliant scientists.

  She might not know a lot about sophisticated computers, but Emma understood people and what drove them. Dauber put in long hours in the lab, getting here before Dr. May and leaving later, night after night. Was it passion? Or was he masking treason through his devotion to the project?

  “Have you had dinner yet?” Emma crouched down to gather the rogue papers. They were filled with precise notes in an impeccable hand. Tiny drawings in multiple colors made her think of photos she’d seen of ancient illuminated manuscripts. Dauber’s controlled writing was definitely at odds with his temper.

  “That was lunch. I think.” He waved in the direction of his upended tray. “I can eat later.”

  They worked in silence; Emma packing the papers and journals in a series of lidded cartons, Dauber hunched over his desk furiously scribbling across the surface of his tablet. She thought of the notes again. They were probably May’s.

  As if Emma’s thoughts had summoned her, Dr. May walked into the lab.

  “Sorry I’m late, Chaz. I was . . .” The small woman paused and nodded at Emma. May’s cheeks were flushed and her piercing blue eyes took in the room with one quick glance. “Good evening, Corporal Gutierrez.”

  “Evening, doc.”

  “No luck with our minders?” Dauber asked.

  As May shook her head, Dauber slammed the open desk drawer. The sound reverberated through the lab. May came up behind him and rested her hand on his shoulder. Leaning forward, she spoke too quietly for Emma to hear.

  Emma stacked the last box on top of the others. So Dr. May had tried to intercede with command. Did that mean she was compromised, too? Shit. She hated covert crap. Give her a target and a weapon any day.

  Right now, her mission was Dauber. She had yet to decide if he was a target as well.

  “I know. We have to finish what we started.” Dauber sighed before pushing away from the desk and standing.

  “Chaz, are you sure her systems are fully isolated?”

  Dauber glanced over at the rack of computer components. “I’ve walled her off from the testing rig. She should be okay even if the program spills over the sandbox.” He glared toward where Emma stood by the stack of boxes. “Brent is an idiot. This whole project is a mistake. Moving it now?” He shook his head. His round face was red again, clear up to his hairline.

  Was his anger sufficient motivation for treason? Emma and her squad-mates bitched about command all the time. That didn’t make them traitors. And when it came time to carry out orders, there was no second guessing or hesitation. So what was Dauber going to do?

  Emma didn’t know enough about the tech they worked with to catch him in the act of sabotage. Communications were on lockdown, so there should have been no way to get the data out. At least not virtually. And not physically either, unless he had an accomplice here at the University. It would have to be someone with security clearance to get out of the lab building. Even she didn’t have that.

  Only officers did. And then only on a case by case basis. She wished she could get a list from Brent, but he had essentially forbidden her from contacting him. All Emma could do was keep Dauber under surveillance until they moved the lab. Once in orbit, it would be easier to make sure the two scientists were truly isolated.

  This was the mission’s most vulnerable time. They would need to bring in personnel to move
the boxes and computer gear and any of them could be a conduit, even an unwitting one.

  She flexed her left hand and brushed it against her firearm—a habitual gesture that was nearly unconscious.

  Choking, Emma scrabbled backwards until she reached the door and the blessedly cooler air of the corridor. She struggled to her feet, her chest heaving, her eyes streaming. Smoke engulfed the entire lab. Even if Dauber had been alive when she first found him, he was certainly dead now. “Keep moving,” she gasped. “Bring her.”

  Dr. May was still holding the food container in a white-knuckled grip. “Chaz?”

  Emma shook her head. “The transport.” She coughed and couldn’t catch her breath for a long moment. “We have to get her out of here.”

  Odachi narrowed his eyes and looked down the hallway. Then he nodded. He must have come to the same conclusion as she had: someone had blown up the lab, disabled fire suppression, and pulled security. It didn’t matter who that someone was. What mattered was they hadn’t gotten to May. Yet.

  And for now, the safest place for her was off planet and isolated.

  The three of them raced to the loading dock. They hadn’t passed a single soldier on the way. At the security scan, Odachi slipped free of Emma’s right side. She cried out as he jostled her injured arm. The fingerprint and retinal checks seemed to take forever. Had their clearance been revoked?

  Nothing made sense. Why kill Dauber and blow up the lab? It wasn’t what the rebels wanted and it wasn’t what the Commonwealth wanted, either, was it?

  The loading dock door swung open silently. They hustled a dazed Dr. May through the storage area and into the tiny cockpit of the small military transport.

  “I hope you can fly this thing solo.” Emma heard her own thin voice as if it were coming from very far away.

  “Strap her in!” That was Odachi.

  Gentle hands pressed her into one of the flight chairs and fumbled for the buckles. Emma wanted to apologize for not being able to help, but couldn’t find the words.