Transition of Order

by P. R. Adams

  Rimes looked from Duke to Theroux to Meyers then to the walls, then knocked on the wall they’d entered through. “To be perfectly honest, I thought this whole area would have opened when you dispersed that thing. It seemed fine letting people in but not out, and that made sense. Short of using the last of the explosives, I’m not sure what we could do to get out of here.”

  “Then by all means, Captain.” Duke’s eyes twinkled as he waved at the wall. “Let’s set the charges. We have an agreement, and the universe awaits.”

  Meyers tapped at the wall. “I hadn’t thought of it before now, but it is odd it didn’t open. Maybe it wasn’t a prison after all?” He ran his hands along the wall, testing its solidity, then he began scraping away fungus.

  “Or maybe it’s still holding its prisoner.”

  Meyers paused, then he returned to scraping the fungus from the wall. “You think we have enough to blow out a chunk big enough to get through? I mean, you’d think if this thing truly had the ability to think so far into the future, it would’ve had someone come in with enough explosives to blow the entire structure to pieces three times over.”

  Rimes made his way to the pile of Commando packs, digging through until he found a detonator and a few bricks of explosives. Enough explosives to blow this place to pieces all right. He stopped for a moment to examine Pasqual’s pack, wondering if there had ever been a sense among any of them that they were being played with, or if they had walked into the trap completely oblivious. They had been the best-trained and equipped soldiers humans could muster, but they had died fighting a stupid alien bug.

  The thought of puppets killing puppets to appease the needs of an inhuman master gnawed at Rimes. We all have our roles to play. What’s my role?

  The explosives were heavy in his hand. They felt wrong, like so much else—the genies’ deaths, the walls not opening…

  With slow, heavy steps, Rimes returned to the wall and handed the explosives to Meyers. Rimes turned to look at Theroux, who stood at the edge of the pool of light, his carbine dangling at his side.

  Why is he still alive? Why are any of us still alive?

  Rimes rubbed at his scar, distracted. Kwon was a bristling fury at the back of his thoughts. “You know, try as I might, I still can’t make sense of something Sheila said just before she died.”

  Theroux tilted his head, confused. “I’m sorry?”

  “Sheila. She said she’d finally found her peace. She never had anyone to truly call her family. She wasn’t human, and when she finally met her own people, she was dismissed as—what did you call her, Duke? A cheap knock-off?”

  Duke shrugged dismissively. “I can’t recall.”

  Kwon raged—Strike him! Destroy him! Rimes stepped toward Duke. “You can’t recall? You didn’t want anything to do with her. But that construct did. And there at the end, she died fighting it. She sacrificed herself, gave it all it could handle. I think it’s the only way you had any chance at all.”

  “She finally found her purpose, just as she said.”

  “I didn’t say anything about her purpose, I said peace. She’d been changed, though. For just a moment, she met that thing head-on. In her own way, I think she was every bit as powerful as you, but it snuffed her out. Why wouldn’t you make use of someone so powerful? Together, you should have been able to destroy that thing without so much loss.”

  Duke frowned. “You have suddenly become an expert in the ways of the genie mind, Captain? I was not attuned to your friend. I told you we had no time for such things, and we have no time now. Destroy the wall and let’s be done with this place.”

  The room went quiet. Meyers stopped placing the explosives. Sung looked up from Watanabe’s corpse. Theroux slowly stepped out of the circle of light. Even Andrea shifted so that she could watch the exchange.

  Kwon coiled deep in Rimes's mind. “And why did it keep her alive? Why did it keep any of us alive? Why not snuff out all the humans once it drew us in? Why leave us alive? It could have left us for the bug, like it did Pasqual’s team.”

  “It had its own designs, I’m sure.”

  “Sure. We all did, right? Keeping Sheila alive made sense. She offered it power and an alternate means of escape. But not the humans. Why leave my team alive, unless it needed us.” Rimes let the question hang there for Duke, because it applied to him just as well. Why didn't you ever push us with your own power, Duke? Why keep us alive all this time? Unless you needed us. Unless it needed us.

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  Rimes shook his head. “It needed that assault. It needed to be destroyed. You would have seen that if you’d touched Sheila’s mind.”

  “As I said, I had no time to integrate her.”

  “But we weren’t in a rush. Not you, not me, and not Sheila. It would have been trivial for someone so powerful to touch her mind, wouldn’t it? And you would have gained so much knowledge of that construct. Unless…unless you didn’t want her to see what was in your mind?”

  “Captain—”

  Sung slowly stood and brought his carbine up in front of him. Meyers turned from the wall, his carbine at the ready.

  “Nadine saw what was in your mind.” Rimes jerked his head toward the body bags. “That was her voice in our heads, warning us, wasn’t it?”

  “I believe that’s quite enough—”

  “She saw what you had in mind for the construct, and she tried to warn us, and so you killed her.”

  Theroux fired. It was a short burst and it was deadly accurate, three rounds tracking from Duke’s sternum to neck to the center of his face. The bullets stopped centimeters short, then dropped to the ground.

  Duke’s eyes glowed a brilliant blue and a bolt of plasma arced from him, striking Theroux and knocking him to the ground in a smoking heap.

  Duke turned, and Rimes, Meyers, and Sung’s carbines were yanked from their hands. The weapons deformed, then burst into components before falling to the ground in chaotic patterns. “A dangerous tactic, Captain.”

  The detonator flew from Rimes’s vest to Duke’s outstretched hand.

  Rimes lifted his hands slowly, palms facing Duke. “Every tactic carries risk.”

  “And now there are only three of you. Unarmed. So much for the advantage of numbers you struggled so hard to attain. I will need you to complete your work with the explosives, Sergeant Meyers. Or would you prefer I tear the particulars from your mind and do it myself?”

  Meyers looked at Rimes.

  Rimes shifted slowly, then nodded at Meyers. “Go ahead.”

  “A wise decision, Captain.” Duke’s eyes glowed brilliantly.

  “You intended to take that thing into you all along.”

  “Once I was certain it could be contained.” Duke smiled condescendingly. “Only a fool would pass on an opportunity at such power.” He pointed to his head. “This changes everything in our struggle.”

  “Is it a power that will destroy our people?” Andrea turned so that Rimes could see the pistol she had hidden in the small of her back, the pistol he had given her.

  “I am in complete control, Andrea.”

  Rimes took a step closer to Duke.

  Duke glanced at Rimes, one eyebrow arched. “Captain, there is no need for further death.”

  Andrea shifted so that she was between Rimes and Duke. “How do you know you have it under control, Duke? Its power isn’t what you just unleashed on Theroux. Its power is the ability to deceive. It was deception that brought us all down here. Even you.”

  Rimes slowly pulled the pistol from Andrea's belt.

  Duke let out a deep sigh. “If you truly believe that, Andrea, then you all but guarantee our victory over the humans is secure.”

  “And if you’re willing to place yourself above the cause, I think we’re the ones who’ve lost the struggle, Jonathan.”

  Duke frowned. “Andrea, do not forget who—”

  Andrea ran at Duke. It was the distraction Rimes needed, a moment to draw Duke's attention aw
ay, to get off a shot. It was obvious Duke was still weak, still learning what it was he’d taken from below.

  It was just a second.

  Rimes dove to his left and brought the pistol up. He imagined the brilliant light and the fire leaping from Duke, and Kwon's frustrated roar echoed—Shoot! Kill him!

  It happened too fast to follow. A corona of energy wrapped around Duke’s form. His eyes glowed, and a bolt of plasma formed, then it crossed the chamber. Plasma blasted through Andrea's left shoulder, melting her arm and leg and much of her chest.

  But before the plasma struck her, Rimes fired. The bullet struck Duke’s right eye and shot out the back of his skull.

  Duke let out a whimpering, surprised sound and collapsed.

  Rimes jumped to his feet and ran to Andrea's form. “Sung!”

  Rimes pulled Andrea to him. He gagged at the smell of cooked flesh, overwhelming so close. The left half of Andrea’s face was burned away, leaving a ruined eye in a charred socket. A thin layer of blackened flesh was all that hid her cheekbone and mandible. Exposed muscles worked along the charred side of her neck.

  “Andrea.” He could barely manage a whisper as he gently held her shaking, ruined form.

  Andrea tried to smile, but there wasn't enough left of her face to pull it off. Each jagged breath she drew whistled through her ruined mouth. She looked into Rimes’s eyes and reached up with her good hand to touch his face. Her hand shook, then fell to his chest, tapping the nametag secured to his armor.

  Sung settled at her side, his eyes blinking rapidly. Rimes tore his nametag off and gently placed it in Andrea’s hand. She clutched it weakly, and her hand fell to her chest.

  Rimes looked at Sung for some sign that he might be able to save her. Sung shook his head.

  Rimes gently brushed hair from Andrea's good eye. “You saved so many lives, Andrea. So many lives.” Tears formed; he blinked them away. He placed his hand over hers.

  She shivered, and the last light faded from her eye.

  47

  1 November, 2167. USS Valdez.

  * * *

  THE VALDEZ’S conference room felt small and confining to Rimes, as if it had shrunk since his last time inside it. He could recall with absolute clarity the distance from the table to the stand where a pitcher of water now sat. It was the same with the table size, the distance between the chairs, and the doorway. Yet as he sat there taking the room in, every dimension he observed seemed dramatically reduced. The air was recirculated, carrying mild scents of cologne and freshly made uniforms, and yet, he couldn’t shake the memories of the fungus and the darkness of the structure, even in the bright light.

  It’s not just coming off the stims. I’m sure of it. He almost laughed at the idea he could be sure of anything.

  Captain Fripp sat at the head of the table, eyes defocused, absorbed in something showing on his private display. His command staff—Stafford to the left, Brigston to the right. Another change brought on by the genies: De La Cruz had been killed in the final attack.

  Fontana’s seat was empty.

  Suddenly, Fripp cleared his throat and turned his cold eyes from whatever he’d been looking at and focused on Rimes. “Although your report is comprehensive, Captain, we still have questions.” Fripp’s cold stare promised impartiality and fairness as much as it threatened capriciousness and cruelty. He blinked slowly, a judge grown tired of a criminal who had made his case unnecessarily tedious and demanding. Although at the table’s head, he was uncomfortably close, his antiseptic breath and starch-laden uniform pricked at Rimes’s nose.

  “I understand, Sir.” Rimes shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll try to adequately answer any questions you might have.”

  Fripp pursed his lips. “Once the attack began on the task force, two genie ships closed on yours. You decided to take your force to the planet below rather than engage those craft.”

  “Lieutenant Shaw said the sensors indicated the genie ships far outclassed ours. I believed there was no value losing two shuttles full of soldiers in a lopsided engagement. On the other hand, getting those enemy ships to pursue seemed at the very least likely to keep them away from the task force. As the report shows, Lieutenant Shaw was correct. Those were fast assault craft. We stood no chance against them.”

  “But you made that decision without consulting the Valdez.” Stafford sounded half-hearted in his challenge and immediately realized it. He quietly settled back in his chair.

  “I made a command decision, Sir. The Valdez was under attack and I didn’t think the options were hard to choose from. Why distract the task force commander from his main objectives?”

  Fripp nodded. “You took your shuttle’s radio and emergency beacon with you to the second shuttle crash site, but you didn’t take them with you to the Commando shuttle. Why?”

  “We were running low on food and we were going to be putting a lot of demands on our suit’s water reclamation. We needed to move fast and cover a lot of ground. I thought the odds of the beacon surviving were greater if left in the shuttle wreck than carried with us. We told Corporal Plauche and Lieutenant Shaw where we were going and we left a recorded message.”

  Fripp pointed at the display as if to say something, then he propped his arms on the table, wrapping one hand in another so that he could rest his chin on the hooks of his thumbs. “You indicate the genies attacked the wounded with the same intensity as the healthy, but you don’t really make clear why. Would you care to speculate?”

  “Anything I would offer would be just that—speculation, Sir.”

  “Any insight might help us close this.”

  “Well.” Rimes coughed quietly. “Although they denied it, I think Duke—Jonathan Duke, the leader of the genies we fought—wanted Agent Fontana. Duke’s mission wasn’t just to hunt us down, it was to get down to that structure and find out what had ADMP so excited about it. I think he knew a lot more than he was letting on, and I think ADMP was playing him. I think a lot of us were being played.”

  “Was Agent Fontana compromised?” Brigston looked at Fripp uncertainly. “Were you sure of her loyalty throughout?”

  Rimes hesitated for just a moment and felt guilty for it. “She never betrayed us. She didn’t feel any more at home with the genies than she ever had with us. She’d grown close to Lieutenant Durban in the short time they knew each other.”

  Fripp grunted and typed a note in the report. “You took a prisoner during the attack. That seems questionable given the circumstances.”

  “I wasn’t aware we made a practice of executing the helpless, Sir?”

  “She was wounded in the heat of battle, Captain.” Fripp fixed his cold stare on Rimes. “The sort of missions you’ve undertaken before, I doubt you’ve hesitated to eliminate wounded enemies?”

  Rimes shrugged as calmly as he could manage. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, Sir. She never gave us much tactical information, but we didn’t really have the opportunity to ask a lot of questions. There was a small chance she was still in contact with the other genies. We used that to our advantage, drawing them into ambushes.”

  Fripp stared at the display, pursing his lips and squinting. “You indicate she eventually leapt in between you and this Duke.”

  “She saved my life. Our lives.”

  “Because of this thing he’d taken from inside the structure on-planet?” Fripp looked from the display to Rimes.

  “Or had taken him. Yes, Sir. I’m sure Duke thought he was in control, but I think even Andrea—the prisoner—saw how he’d changed, and that certainly didn’t support his claim that he was in control. I think the telepaths he’d been working with to destroy the thing realized what had happened and tried to warn us. I believe he killed them to prevent that.”

  Fripp’s face remained an indecipherable mask. “And this thing, you describe it as an ‘energy construct’?”

  “That’s how Duke described it, Sir. Sergeant Meyers theorized it was like a self-contained fusion reactor with a control mechan
ism allowing it to…well, turning it into a telepathic dynamo.”

  “And you think it was created by these ant-like aliens you mention in the report?”

  “Giant bugs. The science teams are going to go nuts looking at that thing you found down there.” Stafford shook his head in disbelief.

  Rimes thought for a moment. “I still don’t know. I got the sense from Duke and Agent Fontana that those bugs imprisoned the construct down there and this wasn’t their home. If I had to guess, based off what we saw and heard—and felt—I’d say they brought it here or maybe found it here. Whether this planet meant something to them or was simply far away, I don’t think we’ll ever know, but it definitely seemed like they wanted this thing locked away and blocked from others. I don’t believe they created it, though, Sir.”

  “So if they didn’t create it, the implication is someone else did, right?” Brigston looked at Rimes hopefully. “So another alien species created it? Why?”

  “That’s something someone else will have to try to determine, Commander.” Fripp looked from Brigston to Rimes. “I don’t see any inconsistencies in your report, Captain Rimes. The other survivors have all provided accounts that line up with yours and recordings we’ve been able to salvage offer nothing to the contrary. That leaves a final formality then.”

  Rimes looked at Fripp, curious. Brigston and Stafford seemed uncertain.

  “You didn’t have any questions about Mr. Theroux, Sir?” Rimes asked, surprised.

  Fripp sucked his bottom lip in. “Actually, that would be the formality I mentioned. As the primary sponsor of our expedition, the cartel has a vested interest in comprehensive and accurate reporting on the events, both between the task force and the genies and on the planet. Our initial report only reflects the input of surviving military members. I have yet to integrate Mr. Theroux’s input. I thought it best to allow you an opportunity to address his commentary face-to-face.”

  His commentary? Face-to-face?

  “Mr. Theroux, would you mind joining us in the conference room?”