Pathogen Protocol (Anghazi Book 2)

by Darren Beyer

  “Hatim’s climbing up the ship,” she said.

  “Where are our visitors?”

  “I can’t see anything from here. Hang on for a sec.”

  In long, low-g bounds, Mandi crossed the distance between the rover and launch vehicle. A few meters from the capsule ladder, she planted her front foot and leapt. She landed five rungs up and scurried to the top, just as Hatim opened the launch vehicle’s outer lock door and scrambled inside. Grasping a handle and leaning outward to get a view of the surrounding terrain, Mandi saw the approaching rover less than a kilometer away.

  “Our company is pulling into the driveway,” she said. “OLIVER, where—”

  Mandi felt a high-frequency vibration through the ladder. Something was happening within the vehicle.

  “Launch preparation sequence is complete,” OLIVER’s voice calmly announced over her comm.

  “Hatim?” Mandi looked into the launch vehicle’s airlock through the viewport.

  “I’m getting ready to cycle the lock.”

  Mandi looked back toward the approaching rover, now close enough that its lights reflected off nearby rocks.

  “Hurry!”

  On the ground below, Jans’s rover moved sideways on its balled wheels until it cleared the capsule, then spun and moved out at high speed toward the attackers.

  “Jans!” Mandi shouted. “What are you doing?”

  “There’s no time. I’m going to slow them down.”

  “No! We’re not leaving without you!”

  “Hatim, keep your suit on and get Mandi on board—by force if you have to.”

  Jans hadn’t gone more than a hundred meters before the attackers’ rover came into view and stopped. Someone jumped out, reached back inside, pulled out a shoulder-mounted weapon, and aimed it at Jans’s rover. The weapon jumped, and an orange flame shot out the front while smoke blasted out the back.

  The projectile impacted Jans’s rover just under one of its long legs, engulfing it in a blinding flash. One leg broke free and flew high in the air, spinning unevenly as it reached its apex, before falling back onto the rocky surface. Another’s balled foot shot out and shattered against a boulder. The rover’s cabin spun sideways, and with half its legs and wheels gone, it dug into the moon’s dark dust.

  “Jans!”

  Mandi moved to leap from the launch vehicle’s ladder, but before her foot had left, she was jerked back by her arm. Hatim was behind her, pulling her into the now-open outer airlock door.

  “OLIVER,” Jans coughed. Mandi pulled against Hatim as the strained voice came across the comm. “OLIVER, override any safety protocols you may have, and launch now. Emergency launch now.”

  Mandi felt a rumble through her feet. “Jans, no!”

  The main engines fired, and the sudden impulse forced both her and Hatim to the floor of the airlock. Fighting the launch forces, Hatim crawled to the control panel beside the door, closed the outer door, and began pressurization.

  “We can’t go!” Mandi said. We can’t leave—”

  A massive jolt hit them, and the door and much of the side of the launch vehicle exploded. Mandi screamed as the air in the partially pressurized airlock blew out of the ship, taking Hatim with it. With nothing to hold on to, Mandi also slid toward the breach. Her fingers sought in vain for anything that could stop her. The ship rocked again, throwing her into a bent and broken structural beam. Crying out in pain as her ribs slammed into it, she frantically grabbed hold with both hands. Her midsection and lower body were now outside the ship, and the spacecraft continued to rock unpredictably, shaking her like a rag doll.

  “OLIVER!”

  “Welcome, Shoshanna Rosen.”

  For what seemed an eternity, Mandi hugged the beam with all her strength while her body slammed painfully into the structure around the breach. But finally, the rocking ceased, the acceleration ebbed, and Mandi felt the comforting zero g of space. Without the force of the main engines pulling against her, she pulled herself back into the broken airlock.

  She looked back at the damage. The breach was surrounded by jagged edges and sharp points. She was extremely fortunate not to have suffered a fatal tear in her suit. She gingerly felt her legs and around her midsection for wounds and broken bones. She found none, though she felt as if she’d taken a tumble inside a washing machine.

  Satisfied that she was in no immediate danger of suffocating from a leaking suit, Mandi took in a breath and blew it out in one short huff. Her mind began to numb as she tried to contemplate what had just happened. Straight ahead of her, the blackness of space and the wash of color from thousands of visible stars was framed by the hole blown in the side of the airlock. As the ship turned, the stars gave way to the sea of blue of the massive planet the locals called Tabby.

  Mandi had no idea how long she watched the bands of blue scroll by, but when they finally gave way to stars again, the transition broke her from her trance. She turned to the control panel for the interior airlock door. The button to open the door was green, and the words “Pressure Equalized” flashed across the screen. Could that be right? The interior pressure would equal the lock pressure—zero—only if there were a breach… and she saw none. Was there a breach, or was the pressure sensor malfunctioning? Opening a door with a bad sensor would result in an explosive aftermath.

  She held her hand above the door control button, closed her eyes tight, and pressed it. She was met with no violent decompression—just the vibration of the heavy door opening. When it stopped, she opened her eyes and pushed her way through to the capsule’s interior.

  The seven-g seats sat empty. Control screens flashed, displaying countless lines of data. Mandi had no idea what any of them meant, or what she should do next.

  “Welcome, Shoshanna Rosen.”

  The familiar, pleasant voice reassured her. “OLIVER.”

  “Yes, Miss Rosen.”

  “My name is Mandi.”

  “I will call you Mandi if you wish.”

  “I wish.”

  “Mandi, I must draw attention to your air supply. I estimate your remaining air supply to be approximately three hours. You may see your suit’s parameters by saying, ‘Turn suit HUD on.’”

  Mandi did so, and was rewarded with a translucent display depicting the suit’s vitals. OLIVER hadn’t been far off: she had three hours and two minutes of air left.

  “Is there a reserve supply on board?”

  “The capsule is equipped with a compressed air system. It is not compatible with the solid air system of the suit you wear.”

  “So I have three hours. Will Hatim’s ship reach us by then?”

  “The capsule did not reach the intended orbit. The probability of such a rendezvous is low.”

  “How low?”

  “It is impossible to calculate with any degree of certainty, but given known parameters, I estimate the chance of rendezvous is less than three percent.”

  Mandi closed her eyes, suppressing her tears. “What are our options?”

  “The option offering the highest chance of survival is to send a distress call.”

  “If Hatim’s ship was the only one in orbit, then a distress call would make sense. But there is another ship out there—the ship that had destroyed the Sirius Star. What option offers the second highest chance of survival?”

  “That is to wait until your air runs out and hope to be located.”

  “Shit.” Mandi looked at her air supply indicator and shook her head. “I don’t need a constant reminder—turn HUD off.”

  She looked around the interior of the launch capsule, then sighed. “Send the distress call.”

  Minutes passed, then an hour. Mandi wondered if anyone was listening. Finally, the ship’s navigation system illuminated with a proximity warning, and she moved to the main console. Fumbling through the interface, she found the controls for the external cameras and brought them up. Another ship, little more than a dot on the screen, had appeared on one of the feeds.

  Through
the camera, she could see the thin crescent of Ouricsen, with Tabby in the background, and just above the moon’s bright arc floated a tiny pinprick of light, seemingly unmoving.

  Mandi’s hope surged.

  She zoomed in until she could make out details. It was a nondescript transport lined with cargo pods and topped by a conical bridge. Puffs sprouted from its reaction control systems as it maneuvered to intercept.

  Only time would tell whether it brought salvation or woe.

  III

  Chapte r 32: Earth

  An aged man in a space fleet naval uniform bearing Euramerican Coalition admiral insignia sat stiffly at a table. Before him, eleven men and women were arrayed behind a raised mahogany bench, and behind him, the chamber overflowed with onlookers.

  A woman seated at the middle of the raised bench stood and addressed the crowded room.

  “The committee will come to order.”

  The murmur in the room quieted.

  “The Assembly Committee on Military Affairs meets today to receive testimony on the circumstances leading up to and surrounding the military action of 29 October, of the year 2108, in and about planet Eridani in the q1 Eridani system. Our witness today is Admiral Jerrick Hogan, Commander-in-Chief of the Coalition Space Naval Forces. Welcome, Admiral Hogan.”

  “Thank you, Madam Chairman.”

  “Admiral, may I remind you that you were sworn in earlier during our session with the Joint Military Board, and that it still stands.”

  “Understood.”

  “Admiral, currently the bulk of the Coalition Home Fleet is on station in the Eridani star system, is it not?”

  “I’m afraid I cannot comment on current fleet dispositions in an open session.”

  “We’ve all read the reports of both the Pan Asian Alliance and Eastern Bloc fleets deploying away from their home bases to parts unknown. Do we have sufficient forces present in the Sol system to respond to any threats they may present?”

  “I’m sorry, but the same answer applies.”

  “Then let’s talk about the day in question, October twenty-ninth.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I will be able to provide little in the way of information pertaining to the events of that day.”

  The assemblywoman took in an angry breath. “Admiral, we’ve all seen footage on multiple news outlets of a space battle taking place on that day between the Coalition cruiser Augusta, the battleship Intrepid, and two ships of the AIC defense force.”

  “I’m sorry, but I still cannot comment.”

  “Admiral, the Augusta and Intrepid are system-based ships, and incapable of interstellar travel, correct?”

  The admiral paused for a few seconds. “That is correct.”

  “Can you tell us how, exactly, ships that cannot perform interstellar travel somehow performed interstellar travel?”

  “I’m sorry, but that is classified.”

  “A technology of that magnitude developed by our government is something that should have been shared with this committee.”

  “That would be correct, if such technology were indeed developed by our government.”

  “Are you saying that it wasn’t?”

  “I cannot comment on any specific technology.”

  The assemblywoman rolled her eyes. “Admiral, half the world believes we intentionally created this international crisis because we want war, and the other half wants to go to war over the crisis we created. The events of the day in question have taken our international relations to their lowest point in nearly a hundred years, and you’re dancing around my questions.”

  “Madam Chairman, I am not able to discuss classified material in an open session.”

  “Very well. I can see this line of questioning will get us nowhere. Let’s move on. On December eleventh, a ship of the Pan Asian Home Fleet responded to a distress call in the outer solar system from the transport vessel Sudak Bay. Upon searching the vessel, they found an unregistered shipment of raw hyperium, apparently bound for the Eridani system. What do you know about this? Have other shipments taken place?”

  “The Sudak Bay is a commercial vessel—”

  “Belonging to TSI.”

  “My understanding is that it is leased to TSI. As it is not a naval ship, I have no information available to me that you also do not have access to.”

  “Are you aware of reports that have been coming to light alleging collusion between the Coalition president, Assemblyman Gregory Andrews, and the Tech Standard Corporation in fabricating evidence against the Applied Interstellar Corporation, or AIC, indicating that said company was complicit in the Mars nuclear terror attack and the earlier foiled attack near here in Washington? And that this evidence was used as justification for military action against AIC defense forces, and the ultimate takeover of that company?”

  “I am aware that such allegations have been coming out in the press, yes.”

  “Do you have any knowledge that such collusion took place?”

  “I am not personally aware of any such collusion.”

  The president of the Euramerican Coalition scowled as he watched the hearing play out on the holovid in the White House study. Two people sat with him. An older, balding man, his stomach rolling over the beltline of his ill-fitting suit, sat stone-faced. He betrayed no emotion as he shifted his gaze between the display and the president’s face. The younger woman next to him, by contrast, chewed her nails as she watched the testimony.

  “He’s not forceful enough.” The president let out a breath of exasperation. “It’s coming across like he’s hiding something.”

  “Well, he is hiding something.” The statement earned the older man a look of derision. “I don’t like being the one who says ‘I told you so’—”

  “You always are.”

  “Because I’m usually right.” The man let slip a light grin as the president scowled. “This whole AIC thing is coming back in our face. Andrews won on Eridani, but he left Mikel alive, and the story about what really happened is getting out. Now, with this whole hyperium thing… He’ll win the war that counts—the war in the press.”

  The young woman turned away from the screen. “If you had brought me on as press secretary earlier, I might have been able shape this better. The press corps is like a school of sharks. They smell blood in the water, and they’re circling.”

  “Throw some misdirection into the mix.” The president leaned back in his chair. “Lead on that Pan Asia made up the whole hyperium thing, and take a page out of the good admiral’s book on everything else. We’ve been through worse. We’ll get through this.”

  The press secretary flattened her mouth and shook her head. “We’ve never been through anything like this—not even close. Those old tricks might work during election season, but this is a whole other ball game. And when Pan Asia and the Russians start moving on our assets in our solar system, it will only get worse. We’re talking hearings, testimony under oath—we could lose everything.”

  “Not everything.” The president frowned. “We have what is most important. Andrews lectured me on it a thousand times. ‘Those who control hyperium, control space. Those who control space, control the future of humanity.’”

  The older man leaned forward and clasped his hands. “That may be, Mister President, but what good will space be”—he gestured upward with his hand—“if we lose everything in our home system? What good will it be if you’re impeached and we’re in jail?”

  “We have the moral justification,” the president said, raising his voice. “Mikel was planning on breaking away from the Coalition, and he was hoarding hyperium in the Eridani system. That much is obvious. Hell, he’d been hiding the fact that Hyperion had been mined out—he was even shipping hyperium back in from Eridani to help cover it up, buying time. We’ll take some political heat, but when everything settles out, people will see. They’ll understand. Or at least my base will. We’ll have all the hyperium. We’ll hold the trump cards, and our nation will be stronger for
it.”

  “People may not see it that way if we’ve lost operations here at home in the Sol system,” said the older man, wringing his hands.

  “That’s why we need our fleet back. What the hell is taking so long, anyway?”

  “According to Admiral Hogan, the fleet is staging in the Eridani system, and TSI is moving their Casimir bridge in position to get our ships back home. It’s just taking longer than expected.”

  The press secretary cut in. “I hesitate to bring this up,” she said, “but if now we’re stockpiling hyperium on Eridani, and we’re bringing our fleet back, what’s to stop Andrews from doing the same thing Mikel was trying to do? He, or at least TSI, controls the bridges, and he will have most of the known hyperium within his sphere of influence. How can we trust that Andrews will do the right thing?”

  “Trust?” The president coughed out a laugh. “Gregory Andrews? I don’t trust that old fuck any more than I trust the fucking Russians.” He grinned. “That’s why I told the admiral to leave a few extra ships behind—just enough to make sure Mister Andrews behaves.”

  Chapter 33: Location Unknown

  Though days had passed, Mandi’s stomach still felt the effects of the two particularly violent jumps the rescuing ship had made. Jumps that could have taken her anywhere. She had no idea where in the galaxy she was. Or even what ship she was on.

  She’d been blindfolded during the “rescue” from the derelict launch vehicle, so had seen nothing of the new spacecraft other than the inside of her cramped, dingy cell. Filthy and old, it stunk of a mixture oxidized metal, ozone, and mildew, and its walls carried the patina of a long history of use. Its only furnishings were a torn padded couch that served as both seat and bed, a zero-g washbasin, and a half-broken toilet. It was not what she would have expected in a ship commanded by the likes of Scarface.

  But that didn’t mean the ship wasn’t his. Maybe it was, and maybe it wasn’t. She’d only seen one person in the two days she’d been aboard—her interrogator—and he had told her nothing.