Solbidyum Wars Saga 9: At What Price

by Dale Musser

  “He explained he was developing tremors in his arms and hands and that he had strange bouts of laughter for no apparent reason. He also complained of reduced muscle tone and significant weight loss, in spite of eating hardily. He also complained of what he called rapid aging.”

  “Did you examine him?”

  “I did what I could, using the automated instruments and diagnostic equipment in the ship. He wouldn’t allow me to get close enough to actually touch him or perform any retinal imaging, though it was clear that the general countenance of his face and eyes revealed clues to his condition. Luckily, the ship’s robotic system was able to place sensors with enough precision so that was possible to complete most of the initial tests.”

  “What did your tests reveal?”

  “That’s the strange part. I’ve never seen anything like it before and we’ve found nothing like it in any of our Federation medical records. It appears to be a defective prion causing the problem. This prion is collecting in his brain, essentially destroying healthy brain tissue and impacting his entire nervous system. From what I could see in my brief examination, his condition is degenerative and will eventually be fatal. We’ve examined the data using every possible approach, but we’re at a loss to determine what causes this malady and even more so how to cure it.”

  “Did you tell Ming that?” I asked.

  “Yes. That’s how I got into the situation you see me in now. I analyzed the data repeatedly with the onboard medical systems and could find absolutely no avenue of investigation that I could pursue with additional tests that would help identify his illness so I could prescribe a treatment or cure. He was absolutely enraged. Before I could react to protect myself, he grabbed one of the knives from his guard’s belt and stabbed me repeatedly in the stomach. Then he stormed out of the ship with his guards in tow. I blacked out and woke up some time later in a pool of blood. I was barely alive, but I managed to get myself hooked up to the med unit equipment, which stopped my bleeding and temporarily sustained me with artificial blood transfusions. Eventually, I was able to make it to the ship’s control room, only to find that my ship had drifted off from the area of the asteroid field or had somehow been pushed away from it. Though I was some distance away from Ming and his entourage, I was still close enough to be detected. I was reluctant to start my propulsion system, for fear they would notice and fire on my ship, so I waited another day, until I had drifted far enough that my chances of departing unnoticed were greater. I activated the homing device and a secured emergency beacon and then returned to the med unit where I administered a sedative to keep me asleep until I arrived back here weeks later. Unfortunately, when I hooked myself into the med unit for the journey, I was somewhat delirious and forgot to activate the nano-biotics feed. By the time I reached Tombosem, I had developed sepsis from the knife wounds and my entire digestive system had become gangrenous. Without the expertise and swift precision of the Tombosemite surgeons, I would have surely died. They removed my irreversibly damaged digestive organs and connected me to this mobile medical unit that keeps me alive until my cloned digestive system is fully grown and ready for transplanting.”

  “So you know where this asteroid field is?” I asked.

  “Yes, it’s in the flight records of my ship. I’ve made a copy of it for you.”

  “Why didn’t you give it to one of our agents? Why did you want me to come see you personally?” I asked.

  “I realize now that’s what I should have done. But I was afraid that if I were to communicate the information to you through any other means you might not receive it. I heard Ming giving orders to his men as he left my ship… something having to do with recent intelligence he had gained regarding your plans to attend some event on Plosaxen and seeing to your elimination. I figured if he knew those kinds of specifics about your schedule, he must have people on the inside of the government or military, so I didn’t know who to trust.”

  “I see,” I replied. “Well they did nearly get me. Twice in fact. It’s obvious that Ming also learned of my plan to come here, because they were waiting.”

  “Sir, if you don’t mind my asking, have you ever heard of a disease like Ming’s? I thought, since you are from Earth, like Ming, you might have perhaps heard of an Earth disease that could explain his symptoms.”

  “Yes, I have. I’ll have our physician from old Earth, Doctor Danjuma, send you information about the disease from the old Earth records. She has retained records of all known human medical conditions that existed on Earth.”

  “Do you know the cause and cure?”

  “The cause is cannibalism, specifically from eating the brain of another human. The disease is called Kuru and there is no cure. Your diagnosis was accurate.”

  Everyone in the room who was humanoid took on a look of abject shock and horror. Nerori held both hands over her mouth in an effort to refrain from retching. Even the non-humanoid Tombosemite was clearly distressed to learn of such a deeply disturbing practice by this already despicable enemy.

  “Cannibal… cannibalism?!” Krossden stammered. “Why?!’’

  “You’d have to ask Ming,” I answered. “And the nature and extent of his cannibalism is even more dreadful than I care to describe. I don’t think any sane person could explain it.”

  On the return to the GLOMAR ROSA my mind spun as I recalled the day’s events – meeting the unique and fascinating Tombosemites, surviving a sniper attack that was most certainly organized by Ming, and gaining tangible information from Krossden regarding the location of Ming and his asteroid-ship fabrication site. I was once again struck by the odd parallel that my enemy and I were both from Earth and both dying from nerve-related disorders. Ming’s condition was a consequence of his overwhelming desire to consume what he should not consume and mine, if I were to be honest with myself, was a consequence of my overwhelming desire for revenge. Ming was fighting to destroy the Federation and enslave its inhabitants and I was fighting to save and protect them.

  How strange but simple the arrangement of the universe seemed sometimes… darkness chasing perpetually after the light, desperation weighing tirelessly against hope, violence forever clawing at peace, and death looming in ultimate victory over every single life. Maybe, just maybe, the same rule applied to my synthetic nerve rejection. Maybe the malady had a cure. But if so, would it be found before it was too late? And if the universal rule applied, I had to also ask, would the same thing that cured me also cure Ming?

  I checked in with Marranalis in the War Room as soon as the shuttle reached the GLOMAR ROSA.

  “I’m glad to see you made it back intact, Admiral,” said Marranalis as we entered my office.

  “I’m glad to be back. It was a harrowing trip, but I think it was worth it. If the intelligence received from Krossden is half as good as it sounds, we may have found the place where the Brotherhood has been producing their asteroid-ships. It may also be where Ming is hiding out. Perhaps he thinks it’s the safest place to hide, since we haven’t found the asteroid field after all these years.

  “Here,” I said as I pushed a data cube across the desk to him. “This data cube contains the coordinates of the asteroid field. By the way, according to Krossden, Ming appears to be using one of the old starships as his base of operation. It would make sense. He likes to surround himself with luxury and the old starships would most certainly provide plenty of that.”

  “Yes, but they’re much harder to defend. If we can get a few squadrons of Nijang Fighters close enough, we can destroy him.”

  “Perhaps, but Ming is no fool. The starship is surrounded by a shell of fighters. Besides, you can bet he has a getaway plan for an attack. I suspect he has some kind of small, cloaked escape pod equipped with interior force dampeners so the pod can eject through the RMFF and still allow him to survive the acceleration. Ming isn’t one to expose himself to risk without an escape plan.”

  “Ming did say the Brotherhood now knows how to make Cantolla Gates. Perhaps he has one aboard
the starship,” Marranalis added.

  “You’re right. I’d forgotten that he mentioned that in his broadcast. I’m getting into that period just before a treatment where my memory isn’t so good. Why does all this have to happen right at the point where I am going into my lowest phase?”

  “Well, after you recuperate you can get back on track with your treatments and you’ll be yourself again. I’ll do my best to handle things until you’re back.”

  “I know you will, Marranalis. You’re my rock in all of this – you and Kala. There’s no way I could handle this without the two of you.”

  “Is there anything in particular you need me to do while you're resting?” asked Marranalis.

  “Yes, in fact, there are a few things. Find out why our supply officer didn’t use the replicator to produce cloaking devices for our troops before we went to Tombosem. Even if the replicators weren’t operable, the cloaking devices could have been requisitioned and delivered through the gates within minutes. In fact, this ship shouldn’t have been launched as fit for duty without being fully supplied and operational in every way. Get with the entire procurement team and figure out what went wrong and what other gaps we have in our armory and other inventories. There were unnecessary deaths and injuries on account of those gross errors. I’ll leave it to you to take appropriate action. Court martials will be in order if an incident like this happens again.

  “Also, Marranalis, Krossden said he overheard Ming say that he was getting reports of my movements and my planned attendance at the graduation ceremony. The Brotherhood obviously also knew ahead of time that I was headed to Tombosem. Inform Wabussie and have the FSO investigate.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll see to it that these matters are handled immediately.”

  I spent the next day mostly resting in bed. Kala and Jenira kept fussing over me and looking after my every need. At times they were almost overbearing, offering and suggesting things I might want or need, to the point that I eventually had to chase them out of the room. When Kala removed my chest piece the next morning, we were both amazed to see that nearly all the bruising was gone and only a faint purple-yellowish area could be seen in the immediate area where the projectile impacted my ribs. There was still some mild soreness, but otherwise I felt pretty good. I convinced Kala to let me spend the second day at my office aboard the NEW ORLEANS, instead of lying in bed. From there I could communicate with Marranalis and keep up with events that were unfolding across the Federation.

  As expected, the God’s Sweat supplies began to wane rapidly and waves of addicts began to go into withdrawal. Scenes became ugly as their pain overwhelmed them. Many simply committed suicide by jumping off buildings or by other means. In the Federation, efforts were not made to revive individuals who committed suicide like they often were on Earth. Federation citizens believed that if the individual suffered so much that they saw death as the only escape, it was best to let them die than to preserve and continue their agony. I wasn’t sure I agreed with this philosophy, but I wasn’t the one making the rules.

  Unfortunately, many of the other addicts who didn’t commit suicide took to violence, striking out at anyone and everyone around them. People were attacked on the streets, buildings were set on fire, and medical facilities were raided and ransacked as addicts tried desperately to find anything that would help them through the God’s Sweat withdrawal. Many of the vids showed addicts in their last moments – screaming, clambering across the ground and clawing at their own flesh in an attempt to get away from themselves, some even running headlong into walls as if they didn’t know anything was in their path. Then, as profoundly as they struggled against their pain, they would fall limp and groan out their final breath before surrendering to death.

  As I feared, the number of God’s Sweat addicts was far larger than the Federation had imagined. The carnage and mayhem persisted for two days before the violence and deaths began to taper off. During this time, the troopers and agents that were mobilized to assist local planetary law enforcement for the duration of the crisis did all they could to protect the Federation’s citizens, infrastructure and property. Martial law had been imposed for three days, restricting all but essential persons to their homes from sunset to sunrise. This didn’t stop violence during the daytime, but it greatly reduced the overall level of violence and made the already debilitating resource constraints and troop deployment somewhat more manageable.

  By the end of the third day most of the addicts had died and the violence had stopped, so it was announced that curfew would be lifted the next morning. The citizens were just starting to breathe a sigh of relief, when word was received that the Brotherhood had unexpectedly appeared in Sector Three with massive forces, wreaking havoc on two worlds in the Malpy Solar System. Marranalis quickly ordered ships from the Sector Three fleet to respond through the nearest Cantolla Gates and troopers were deployed through all of the planetary base gates to bolster defensive ground forces. Strangely, as soon as our space forces arrived, the Brotherhood ships quickly retreated through a stellar Cantolla Gate of their own, which they immediately closed as their last ship passed through its boundary.

  The Brotherhood caused serious damage to both worlds. Billions were dead from asteroids that were directed toward the planet as weapons of mass destruction. Entire cities were decimated and other vital areas planet-wide were turned into little more than blistering hot craters. The few defensive forces in the area were nearly wiped out by the sheer number of enemy ships used in the attack. Ming wasn’t bluffing about having gained Cantolla Gate technology and I was sure the attack here was only a small demonstration of just how frightening his use of the knowledge would be.

  There was no way around the fact that I needed to confer with senior leadership about this development. Lucky for me the attacks happened late in the day, so I was as able to set up a joint meeting the Admiralty for the next morning. I convinced A’Lappe that I was strong enough to go through with my overdue treatment. After a brief examination, A’Lappe agreed that he believed the risk of complications was acceptable; so, Kala accompanied me that evening to the auxiliary med unit where A’Lappe awaited my arrival.

  My sense of confidence about my ability to withstand the treatment vanished quickly once the treatment began. Only seconds into the injections I realized that most of what I had assumed was healing had, in fact, been a false sense of well-being brought on by the medication. I was immediately racked with pain and searing heat in my wounded chest and ribs. The agony escalated to a level beyond anything I had ever experienced and I wasn’t even certain that I would survive. At one point, I was plagued by piercing sounds in my ears and it wasn’t until I took a deep breath that I realized the sounds were screams coming from me. I was only remotely aware of Kala, who was at my side, wiping my forehead with a cool damp cloth and had likely been doing so throughout the entire ordeal. By the time A’Lappe finished, I was so weak and exhausted that I was unable to get off the table. I laid still with my eyes closed, listening to the conversation between A’Lappe and Kala as the burning pain in my head and spine abated.

  “I suggest that you let him rest here,” said A’Lappe to Kala.

  “Yes. I think that would be best,” Kala replied with a distressed and exhausted voice. “Do you think he will recover in a few hours like he has in the past?”

  “I believe so, but I can’t promise anything. His ribs seem to be practically healed and the bruising has virtually disappeared, but there is no doubt still a great deal of compromised tissue in that area. It’s evident that the treatment over-stimulated the still sensitive nerves in those areas, but by morning he should be feeling pretty good. I recommend that he has a hearty breakfast before he heads off to do whatever he has planned for the day.”

  “Thank you, A’Lappe. I don’t know how Tibby and I can ever repay you for all the things you’ve done for us.” I heard Kala suppress a sob.

  “Think nothing of it, Kalana, really. You and Tibby have done more for me than you
will ever understand. I’m happy to do anything for you that I can.

  The two of them went on talking, but I quickly lost track of the conversation and drifted off to sleep. I had unpleasant dreams – dreams of giant asteroid-ships the size of small moons with hundreds of Brotherhood troopers popping out of cracks, crevices and caves, all of whom looked like Ming. Each Ming gnawed on a bloody body part while laughing insanely.

  I woke up suddenly, drenched in sweat. The strong, metallic taste in my mouth made me gag. A’Lappe must have left at some point, as Kala was alone with me and napping in the chair adjacent to my treatment table. I must have made a retching sound as I stirred, because Kala woke with a start.

  “Tib, are you alright?!” she asked in a panic.

  “Water…,” I croaked.

  Kala quickly handed me a container of water. I rinsed my mouth with it and then looked for somewhere to spit it out. I didn’t want to swallow that first horrid mouthful. Kala noticed my distress and quickly handed me a small plastic bag used in the med units for just such purposes. I spit the water out and quickly took a sip of fresh water.

  “Are you alright, Tibby?” asked Kala once again, this time more calmly.

  I relaxed, letting the cool water slowly slide down my throat. “Yes. I think so. I was having terrible dreams. I tugged on my clothing, which was soaked with perspiration.

  “I need to get out of this clothing and shower,” I said as I tried to sit up. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “About six hours,” said Kala. “Here, let me help you.” She got me on my feet and insisted I drink some more water. “You had a pretty rough session. A’Lappe said it was due to your injuries and that next time the course of the session will normal again.”