Primeval Origins: Light of Honor (Book 2 in the Primeval Origins Epic Saga)

by Brett Vonsik

  A slight trembling quality in the doctor’s voice combined with a hint of congestion and several forced breaths while dictating made Nikki curious if the doctor was also sick. Anders looked about to fall over with that pale-green coloring, and now looking closer at Doctor Dunkle, Nikki saw hints of a similar complexion. She wondered if she was next at catching something. She decided to not worry about it. If an illness was running around the ship she would get it too. Nikki thought it strange the calmness in which she felt over getting ill. Stranger yet, she felt calm . . . safe, but she didn’t know why.

  “I can’t stand the pathetic sight of you any longer,” Doctor Dunkle announced as he stepped close to Anders in a way that Nikki couldn’t see what he was doing. A short hissing sound filled the room before the doctor turned to Nikki giving her a visual once-over. “Your coloring is good. You don’t appear ill. Do you feel ill?”

  “No,” Nikki answered calmly . . . matter-of-factly. She felt good, she realized with a smile.

  “Our subjects have infected everyone except you.” The doctor continued while looking over Nikki closer, particularly her face. He placed the back of his hand to her forehead. Nikki allowed him to with little concern over his intentions or if he planned to give her a shot of whatever he gave Anders. “Makes no sense. You’ve been closest to the subjects and you appear healthy . . . when the facts of the situation tell me without my antibiotics or immune booster cocktail you should be lying on the floor next to your colleague with the same terrible complexion he’s sporting.”

  Nikki felt an inner calmness while smiling back at the doctor. She felt . . . safe. Hugged in a warm blanket of safe, in fact. The doctor saw something in her face or demeanor that spiked his curiosity, bringing on an even closer inspection of her with his old-school exam methods; taking her pulse, physically touching her face and neck, checking for anything indicating illness or something out of the ordinary. He smelled her breath which she took no offense to.

  “You’re too healthy . . .” the doctor finally announced. “And happy. You appear drunk, but I don’t detect any alcohol on your breath. Are you on meds I don’t know about? Did you pick up a little of the local pharma while in South America?”

  Nikki calmly answered “No” to his questions. She realized she did feel happy . . . and safe. She smiled to herself despite getting a solid whiff of the doctor’s “xactlee’s breath”; where his breath smelled exactly like his butt. Nikki snickered happily to herself at her silent joke.

  Realization filled Doctor Dunkle’s eyes just before he whirled about returning to the biobeds to look at sensor readings of his “subjects” on his ePaper flexi-display. He tapped the paper-thin flexi-plate several times before putting on that “Aha!” look. “I’ll be . . . there it is at almost the exact same 161 hertz, but a different modulation. Computer . . . continue recording.”

  Doctor Dunkle then spoke in that dictation voice of his, “Subject Three appears to be sharing . . . no something more than that. She appears to be linked in some manner to Subject One via shared hypergamma brain wave frequencies . . . at 161 hertz. Subject Three appears inebriated . . . almost euphoric at this time. Her condition appears to have manifested itself very quickly after entering the same room as Subject One. Her bio-readings are all in the highly healthy range and continue to get stronger . . . stronger as her brain waves become closer to being synchronized in modulation with Subject One’s pattern. What the hell? This can’t be. The patterns are starting to look like . . . the patterns I took of Mr. H . . . years ago. Interesting is an understatement. Subject One’s lambda brain wave pattern appears to have synchronized with a second lambda pattern from the unknown origin.”

  It was difficult for Nikki to follow Doctor Dunkle’s comments on his observations and his reasoning . . . speculations. Facts. Facts. Facts. She needed facts. Her professors demanded it. Nikki frowned at the latter thought, then smiled big at no one in particular.

  “What are you stupidly smiling at, Nikki?” Anders asked with an edge in his tone. He now stood with his butt to the wall and hands on thighs supporting himself. His coloring still looked terrible, but he seemed to have more energy now, after that shot the doctor gave him.

  “Stupidly?” Nikki replied. She smiled broader. “He knows. It knows.”

  “What are you talking about?” Anders asked with a frustrated grimace.

  “Yes. What are you talking about, Ms. Ricks?” Doctor Dunkle asked with an intense interest.

  The white lighting in the room suddenly dimmed as red lights brightened until the entire room was bathed in red. An annoying alarm sounded. Nikki felt multiple resounding shudders within the ship.

  “The captain just placed the ship into a defensive posture,” Doctor Dunkle informed Anders and Nikki. The doctor sounded startled and a little confused as he tapped away at his ePaper. With a wave of his left hand over his flexi-display, in a sweeping gesture toward the workstations to Nikki’s right, a desktop holo-display lit up with a visual image of what looked to be a control room, maybe the bridge, with an overlay of digital data Nikki didn’t understand. The scene moved about erratically, left and right, then focused on another ePaper flexi-display in the scene held by someone with big hands. The doctor stood mesmerized watching the desktop holo-display. The scene flowed from digital maps with moving icons and vectored lines on the in-scene ePaper and displays around the bridge. None of what she saw meant anything to Nikki. The view swept upward to a view of out of the window from what she was now certain was the bridge of the Wind Runner. Another tapping at his ePaper by Doctor Dunkle silenced the alarm, though the med-lab remained bathed in red.

  “What are we looking at?” Anders asked.

  Doctor Dunkle shot a hot glare at Anders. “The captain’s vid-eyes.”

  Anders and Nikki looked at the doctor with no idea what he was talking about. Doctor Dunkle showed visible frustration as a contemptuous expression formed on his face, then disappeared almost as fast. “The captain and key others aboard have vid-eyes. Artificial lenses that are video cameras . . . with informational overlays and sound capture. Mr. H insists on senior crew using the things. The captain doesn’t know I can tap into them, so keep this quiet. It’s the only way I know what’s going on around here.”

  “So, what’s going on?” Anders asked.

  “We’re being pursued by an unknown ship that just launched UCAVs at us . . . that are now approaching our stern,” Doctor Dunkle answered while keeping his eyes glued to the holo-display. He tapped his ePaper again, activating the sound from the bridge. Multiple people were talking rapidly in an acronym soup that Nikki didn’t understand. The video feed now saw the captain looking at a thermal image of the closing UCAVs on his ePaper. Five triangular-shaped things all with black bodies almost undetectable on the thermal, three were carrying what looked to be cylinder-shaped objects slung underneath them.

  “What are they carrying?” Nikki asked, worried the UCAVs were bringing bombs.

  “I’m not sure . . .” Doctor Dunkle kept his attention fixed on the holo-display. “S.C., identify approaching aircraft and payloads.”

  A few moments passed before a hauntingly familiar male voice Nikki felt she should know announced, “Five Xanthium Class Twelve UCAVs approach. Three UCAVs are configured with drop pods, each capable of deploying a wide range of ordinance or a single assault soldier.”

  “Huh . . .,” Doctor Dunkle thought for a moment before speaking his conclusion. “I’ll bet they’re soldiers. They mean to board us! S.C., secure all existing med-lab files, data, and ongoing data collection with Level Three access.”

  “Level Three Security Protocols executed for med-lab,” the S.C. voice replied almost immediately. The male voice of the ship’s computer nagged at Nikki. It was familiar somehow.

  Another voice announced over the holo-display feed, “Thirty seconds out. Captain . . . engage them?”

  The radio on the brid
ge crackled with a Western Asia accent. “Vessel Wind Runner, this is the United Nations frigate Watchman. You are ordered to lie to.”

  The bridge crew froze. Nobody spoke as they watched the captain scan the bridge.

  “Affirmative, Mr. Beckmire,” the captain replied calmly in his singsong accent. Nikki misidentified him as European the first time she heard him speak with those rising and falling inflections in his cadence. Later, she learned his accent was common to those from where he lived most of his life, Trinidad. “Power up the EM shields and weapons. Blast those UCAV buggers out of the sky.”

  “Hard to port!” The captain commanded without warning. “The Watchman’s using the wireless trying to distract us from those UCAVs. I mean not to let them drop those pods on us.”

  “Are they bombs?” Another voice asked from the bridge.

  “Either that or Action Men meaning to board us,” the captain answered in his singsong inflections as the ship listed right as the Wind Runner made its sharp left turn to port.

  “Hard to starboard!” The captain commanded sternly again, without warning. “Keep at the evasive maneuvers. Make it a challenge for the UCAVs to target Him. Launch the minis. Find their mother.”

  The holo-display video of the bridge swung to the rear of the compartment looking at a dark-haired crewman dressed in khaki pants and short-sleeved shirt pulling weapons from a built-in wall locker. The captain’s vid-eyes overlay identified him as Robert Gomez, Wind Runner Security Office. Nikki felt proud of herself as she was starting to understand how the vid-eyes worked. The weapons he passed out to the bridge crew looked like military rifles and shotguns of some types, but Nikki wasn’t certain which. After all, she didn’t like the things any more than her government, who continuously distributed safety announcements demanding the reporting of anyone with an unlicensed weapon . . . which meant all weapons. The Wind Runner listed left as the ship turned starboard.

  “Mr. Gomez,” the captain sternly spoke with flat emotions, his rising and falling inflections muted, “pair up the watch and station them on all decks. They are to cut down any intruders. Report status over internal ship blowers . . . keep off the mobiles and wireless. These fellows will be monitoring anything not a hardline.”

  Gomez tossed several more weapons to unseen crewmen, then exited the rear door of the bridge with a weapon in hand and another slung over his shoulder. The captain’s eyes returned to the holo-display at the front of the bridge command console that now showed a three-dimensional tactical display of what Nikki concluded was their situation. The UCAVs easily maneuvered behind the Wind Runner as it listed right again, turning port. The UCAVs made a pass at the ship, but had trouble lining up a drop of their pods. Nikki heard and felt firing of some type of large guns followed by what sounded like a rocket launching aft of the med-lab.

  Nikki looked at Doctor Dunkle for answers, yet didn’t voice her question out of concern that the answer would make her feel unsafe. The doctor watched a tactical display on his ePaper. He spoke without looking at Nikki or Anders. “Those are .50 caliber railguns and antiaircraft missiles.”

  On the bridge, the captain continued issuing orders in his stern, singsong tone, “Find her, gentlemen. We know she’s not American, so we have freedoms, and thankfully, she’s not Chinese or we would be sunk by now. Find her. I don’t want to get a hammering by that heavy railgun she carries.”

  The radio crackled again. “Vessel Wind Runner, this is the United Nations frigate Watchman. You are ordered to cease-fire and lie to. Prepare to be boarded.”

  More railgun fire and another missile launch rattled the med-lab. Nikki knew she should be feeling fear . . . a lot of it, but she did not. Strange, she thought, but didn’t know why. Voices from the bridge drew her attention back to the holo-display. The captain darted his eyes between the bridge’s tactical situation display and the thermal sensor. Using information from both displays, it looked like a missile from the Wind Runner shot down one of the UCAVs as the other four made another pass at them. Nikki felt the ship take several hits as the captain watched on the tactical display two of the UCAVs drop their pods on the far stern section of the main deck, aft of the helicopter pad, as another black triangle fell to a railgun’s antiaircraft fire.

  On the med-lab’s holo-display, a big finger touched the PA button on an ePaper flexi-display held by the captain. Over the loudspeakers outside of the med-lab, the captain’s voice projected loudly ordering his crew to engage all intruders with deadly force.

  “Are they going to board us, Captain?” Another unfamiliar, unseen voice to Nikki on the bridge questioned.

  “They have already, Mr. Miller,” the captain answered flatly. Looking to his ePaper, the captain tapped Secure Comm followed by Personal-Range selections. His ePaper display and vid-eyes overlay matched lists of crew within range. “Mr. Gomez, report . . . on a hardline, if you can.”

  Only the muffled exchange between the bridge crew could be heard as the Wind Runner listed left. Another burst of railgun fire from the aft deck ended abruptly with an explosion shaking the med-lab.

  “What was that?” Nikki asked with a growing concern for their safety.

  “One of the railguns is offline.” Doctor Dunkle answered as he tapped his flexi-plate. “Something took out the aft gun.”

  A scratchy voice over the holo-display caught Nikki’s attention. “Gomez from the quarterdeck. I’ve got movement near the helipad. Two black-suited intruders. One blew away the aft railgun. We’re engaging them.”

  Nikki heard an extended rumbling of gunfire and unintelligible yelling from multiple places low and high around the med-lab. On the holo-display, the captain’s vid-eyes followed the tactical display and onboard ship cameras. The crew battled two soldiers in dark-colored armor advancing forward on the main deck from the helicopter pad. Nikki grew concerned with the ease they advanced through the resisting crew despite taking numerous small arms hits. A UCAV flew over the aft deck dropping a third pod. It broke apart almost the instant it was released from the UCAV. Another armored soldier fell free from the twirling pod shells, landing in a crouch with a charged electrical display on the EM array aft of the quarterdeck. The soldier carried a hefty gun. Directly in front of the soldier, Gomez and another crewman fired on the dark-armored intruder with everything they had. Guns blazed as bullets riddled the armor, but all deflected off . . . some throwing sparks.

  “S.C., identify armored intruders,” Doctor Dunkle commanded the ship’s computer.

  The S.C. answered in that male voice as Nikki watched in horror as Gomez and his fellow crewman were knocked down in a hail of bullets from that hefty gun. She feared them dead. “Intruders are identified as Tyr Soldiers, wearing United Nations Mark IV battle suits.”

  “Doctor, are we safe in here?” Anders asked with thick skepticism in his voice.

  “Next to the mini-fusion reactor room, this deck is the heaviest armored,” Doctor Dunkle answered with a less-than-confident tone.

  The sense of being safe waned from Nikki. Anxiety started to fill her as she struggled not to panic. A beeping tone from his ePaper flexi-plate drew Doctor Dunkle’s attention to the bio-readings and brain wave activities he was monitoring. “Everything just went out of synchronization . . . The readings are all over the place, except for the lambda waves.”

  Doctor Dunkle appeared frustrated as he begrudgingly considered something before opening a compartment to the left of the holo-display where he retrieved several handguns. He waved Nikki and Anders close, then handed a gun to each of them. “These are a last resort. Aim at the face shields of the Tyr Soldiers. Every other round is armor piercing followed by an explosive.”

  “Do you really expect these little things to work on that armor after what we just saw?” Anders protested.

  “They will have some effect,” Doctor Dunkle replied with a pragmatic tone of hope, “though I can’t guarantee anything at this mome
nt.”

  The captain’s vid-eyes now followed the ship’s cameras on his ePaper as the Tyr Soldier who downed Gomez jumped to the quarterdeck just aft of the bridge. The captain ordered his bridge crew to abandon their stations for the auxiliary bridge below as he moved out of the direct line of the aft door. Nikki heard the rapid footfalls and chaotic yells of the bridge crew as an explosion blew the aft door apart, sending a concussion wave and shrapnel everywhere. The captain was knocked to the deck in the explosion. Darkness filled the holo-display. When the captain’s vid-eyes started transmitting again and he was able to focus his eyes, a Tyr Soldier stood in the doorway, his gun rapidly firing, sending shockwaves, not bullets, throughout the bridge. The captain raised his weapon as he lay on his back. It looked like a big gun to Nikki. Another explosion, originating at the Tyr Soldier, filled the bridge when the captain fired. Again, a few long moments of static and darkness on the holo-display. The captain’s vid-eyes started transmitting short moments later when he reopened his eyes. Continuous groans of pain came from him. He was in bad shape if Nikki read his vitals correctly on the vid-eyes overlay. The Tyr Soldier was slumped over the twisted wreckage of the bridge door. His armor heavily damaged, though it appeared to be reforming . . . regenerating.

  Doctor Dunkle’s attention was drawn again to his ePaper by another series of beeping tones. His face took on a confounded expression. “I don’t understand . . . lambda, hypergamma, and epsilon waves are all spiking in Subject One, but from what? His brain hemispheres have been out of synchronization, but now are starting to match up to each other as the lambda patterns strengthen.”

  “Really, Doctor?” Nikki was incredulous. “Worrying over bio-readings when the ship is being attacked?”