Pathogen Protocol (Anghazi Book 2)

by Darren Beyer

  “Thank you, OLIVER. That will be all.” The interrogator turned to Mandi. “I wanted you to hear this firsthand, so you know I am satisfied as to who you are. Well, I still don’t know exactly who you are, but at least I know who you are not. I can tell you that my name is Yosef, and that you are a guest of the Nashira Brigade. I am sorry for keeping you in the dark, but we lost brothers and sisters on Ouricsen. We had to be sure. Our very existence is at risk.”

  “If you are with the Nashira Brigade, then I am sorry for the loss of your people,” Mandi said. “Without Hatim’s sacrifice, I would not be here now. But how can I know for sure that you’re who you say?”

  “I understand your suspicion. That is why we will make contact with the surface.”

  “The surface? The surface of what?”

  The interrogator pointed to a viewport above and behind Mandi’s head. She turned to see clouds, continents, and oceans slowly scrolling by. Her heart jumped, as for a moment she thought she was home. But none of the landforms matched those in her memory, and the color was off. It wasn’t Earth.

  So where was she? Only one other known planet mimicked the water and land of her home: Eridani. But she’d seen Eridani from orbit, and its color was more vivid, driven by the pure white light from its star. The planet that passed by the window here had a reddish hue, creating a tone halfway between that of Mars and Earth.

  The young pilot glanced at Yosef. “The call to the surface may have to wait. I can’t maintain a secure comm connection with our ground station. It’s as if we’re being jammed.”

  “Jammed?” Yosef pushed past Mandi. “Are you sure it’s not a solar flare, or something else interfering with the signal?”

  “I get brief pings through, but I can’t complete the handshake. It very much resembles what happens with jamming.”

  An alarm rang out from one of the pieces of equipment.

  “Another issue I’m dealing with.” The young man swung around to view the console that issued the alarm. “It’s an NMO alarm. I’ve been moving the ship, but it keeps going off.”

  Mandi tensed as the reaction control thrusters fired, lightly pushing her to one side of the bridge.

  “That’s a near miss alarm?”

  The pilot nodded.

  The alarm continued to sound. “That’s odd,” the young man said.

  “I’ve seen this before,” Mandi said. Her tension turned to near panic.

  The interrogator spun her by the shoulders. “What is wrong?” He distinctly enunciated each word.

  “I saw this on bridge camera footage from one of AIC’s ships—right before it was destroyed.” Mandi turned to the pilot. “I need a headset patched into the sensor feed—now!”

  Chap ter 37: Eridani

  Erik’s comm chimed with a local alert. He turned away from his holo screens to view it.

  URGENT HEALTH ALERT: The New Reykjavik Health Authority is issuing a medical advisory. A virulent flu strain has been contracted by several people in and around New Reykjavik. Related to the H1N1 virus, it is highly contagious, causing severe symptoms, including respiratory congestion and distress, fatigue, muscle aches, cough, and fever. If you experience any of these symptoms, please report to your closest health facility.

  Expressionless, Erik placed his comm on his desk. “Call Karis.”

  Her voice came over the comm almost immediately. “Yes, Mister Hallerson.”

  “We seem to have a flu outbreak on our hands.”

  “Yes. It is spreading as we expected. The prodrome period is slightly shorter than we estimated—nineteen to twenty-four days—but it is within the required parameters. There must be something within the Eridanian atmosphere that impacts it.

  “Please contact the Coalition military liaisons and set up a meeting to discuss the implications to fleet and ground force readiness.”

  Two stern-faced military officers stood as Erik entered the conference room in the executive wing of AIC Tower.

  “Major, Commander, thank you for coming.” Erik gestured for them to sit.

  The commander leaned forward over the conference table. “This meeting is highly irregular. Our new orders require that all communications go through the liaison office. Meetings between senior personnel are not permitted without an independent government representative present.”

  The corners of Erik’s mouth turned upward. “Yes, but what I have to convey is of a particularly sensitive nature. Were it to get out, it could compromise the Alliance’s capability to respond to Pan Asian and Eastern Bloc military movements within the Sol system.”

  The commander’s eyes narrowed.

  “I am sure you’ve seen the alert relating to the flu strain that has broken out here in New Reyjavik. They are calling it the Eridanian flu.”

  “We’ve heard. H1N1.” The major bore an agitated expression. “We are recalling our personnel and administering vaccinations.”

  “Your vaccinations will do no good. It is not H1N1. That label is to keep the public calm.”

  The two officers’ eyebrows rose in unison.

  “Our doctors tell us it is a strain we have not seen before,” Erik continued. “It has a long incubation period, and is quite debilitating, with effects lasting three to four weeks.”

  “Is it native to Eridani?” the commander said. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the conference table.

  “Native? No. Eridani has no native organisms that cause illness in humans. As a matter of fact, we do not believe it is native to anywhere. Our belief is that it is artificial in origin.”

  “From where? Was it Mikel? He released that network virus, after all.”

  Erik shook his head. “This is not Mikel’s style. We don’t know for sure, but my guess is Pan Asian. They have the most to gain. Consider that it is they who make the moves on Coalition positions in the Sol system. They know the Coalition fleet is returning. If they can degrade its capability, and possibly delay its return, then they can maximize their gains. Many service members took shore leave on Eridani, and of course, the troops on the ground have been exposed.”

  “You’re telling us the fleet may be infected with a weaponized flu?”

  “Precisely. Now you can see why I did not take this through the normal channels.”

  “We’ve got to delay the fleet’s crossing of the Casimir bridge back to the Sol system,” the commander said.

  “Which would only serve to allow the Pan Asian fleet to take further advantage of the fleet’s absence,” Erik said, showing no emotion.

  The commander shook his head. “Better that than having a crippled fleet being decimated in battle.”

  “I worry about what designs they may have here,” said the major, his tone conveying his concern. “If the naval vessels left here for our protection are incapacitated, along with our ground troops…”

  “Then everything you have accomplished here is in jeopardy.” Erik leaned back in his chair. “Fortunately, we have something that has shown promise in limiting the virus’s effects.”

  The commander raised one eyebrow. “You have a vaccine already?”

  “I wish we did, but no. Vaccines take much longer to develop. The TSI medical branch has been working on advanced experimental medical nanobots that find viruses in the bloodstream and systemically dismantle them. We can’t keep your people from getting the sickness, but with this technology, we can limit the effects. Some is already on the way to the destination end of the Casimir bridge in the Sol system, and a high-g jump drone has just arrived here. We can begin treatment of your people in the Eridani system immediately.”

  “What do you call this technology?”

  “I’m afraid our medical researchers are not very creative. They simply call it the Pathogen Protocol.”

  Chapter 38: Location Unknown

  We don’t have headsets.” The pilot’s face projected confusion.

  Mandi looked around the bridge. “Can you pipe the mass sensor signal to a comm panel or speaker?”

&
nbsp; The pilot was even further confused, and Mandi blew out an exasperated breath. “Mass sensors—their signal is in the audio range. Instead of putting it on a screen, can you direct it to the communications system?”

  The pilot glanced nervously at Yosef, who nodded.

  “I—I don’t know. This is all new.” The pilot spun back to his command console. “Maybe through the hardwire connection…”

  A few seconds later, a chaotic hiss filled the bridge, and the pilot looked back at Mandi. “Clean it up,” she said. “Isolate a range of twenty to one hundred hertz.”

  The hiss changed to a rumble, and Mandi cocked her head to listen. “What is this about?”

  Mandi snapped out an open hand to silence the interrogator. The audio quality was poor, and it took her a few moments to zero in, but she heard it. The same low warble, the cat’s purr, that Sophia had taught her to identify, and that she had heard on board Dauntless.

  She looked squarely at the pilot. “Get us out of here.”

  “What is going on?” Yosef’s voice was steady, but his nervousness was clear.

  “That signal isn’t debris,” Mandi said. “There’s someone out there, and they’ve got a device that makes them almost invisible to mass sensors.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “Trust me, it exists, and we need to get as far away as we can.” She turned to the pilot. “Did you hear what I said?”

  The pilot again looked to Yosef for guidance.

  “How do you know this?” Yosef asked Mandi.

  She looked him in the eye. “My name is Mandi Nkosi. Do you know the Nkosi name?”

  Yosef’s eyes widened in recognition.

  “Yes, that’s right. My mother is Gisela Nkosi—AIC’s Gisela Nkosi. I know what I’m talking about, and I’m telling you, we need to get moving!”

  Yosef eyed her for a moment, then finally nodded. “Take a seat.” He motioned to one of the bridge’s three seats and moved to another. To the pilot he added, “Didn’t you hear what she said? Get us moving!”

  The pilot took the last seat and worked his panel. “What direction?”

  The NMO alarm sounded again, and Yosef pointed angrily at the bridge’s audio speaker. “Away from that!”

  “Do you need to warn the others on board?” Mandi asked.

  “Others?” Yosef said. “There are no others.”

  The rumble of the main engines shook Mandi through her seat, and the g forces pulled her back. No more than a minute passed before the ship lurched, throwing her to one side against the seat’s straps and initiating a cacophony of alarms that filled the bridge. Again, the ship lurched, and this time it felt as if they had been hit by something—something big.

  “I’ve lost starboard reaction control,” the pilot shouted. “The jets are venting!”

  For what seemed like minutes, g forces pushed and pulled the ship, and the pilot fought the controls, trying to bring it to heel. Finally, the forces ebbed, though didn’t fully cease, and the alarms went quiet.

  “We’re dead in space,” the pilot said. He looked as if he had lost a loved one.

  “What now?” Mandi asked.

  Two clunks reverberated throughout the ship, followed by a series of lesser clicks that echoed from down the ship’s central shaft. Yosef slammed his harness release, twisted to reach Mandi, and released hers as well.

  “Life boat,” he said. “Hatch is halfway down. Go!”

  The ship must have been spinning, because centripetal forces pushed her from side to side as if she were on a boat caught in a churning sea. But she worked her way to the bridge hatch and began pulling herself along the ladder down the shaft. She glanced back to see Yosef and the pilot following behind her.

  A muffled whomp from the direction of the bridge stole away her next breath, and a blast of air hit her in the face. Again she looked back. Farther down the shaft, near the bridge, a meter- wide hole had appeared in the side of the ship. The atmosphere condensed into vapor as it was sucked through—and the pilot, who was too close, was sucked through along with it. He didn’t even have time to scream.

  “Go!” Yosef shouted. He fought to hold on to the ladder.

  Before Mandi turned away, a figure in an armored space suit pushed through the new opening in the side of the ship. The figure turned toward Yosef, raised a rifle to its chest plate, and pulled the trigger. A jet of flame chased the bullet to its target. Yosef’s eyes grew wide as he was struck square in the back.

  “Go—” His hoarse voice was cut short as another round bit into him.

  Struggling for breath in the thinning air, Mandi felt her head grow light. Fighting her fear, she pulled herself down the passage to the lifeboat. She was almost there.

  A flash of red flame shot past her head and impacted the bulkhead. Sparing only a brief glance over her shoulder, she saw a second suited figure entering the ship. She didn’t need the added incentive to hurry.

  She slammed her fist on the button next to the lifeboat. The hatch shot open, and she wiggled through.

  She was at the end of her air, and with her vision dimming, she had to fight to find the handle to the inner hatch. Grasping it with both hands, she braced herself against the bulkhead and pulled. It hit bottom and locked into place.

  Mandi felt her consciousness begin to ebb. But then the smallest amount of air passed through her constricted throat. As minute as it was, it was like a drop of water to a person dying of thirst in the desert. The next breath brought in slightly more, and the next more still, and soon, she was taking in air in gulps.

  Closing the hatch must have triggered an automated launch sequence, because with the coming of the air, a voice came over the speakers.

  “Eight, seven, six…”

  Chapter 39: Eridani

  As the sun kissed the mountains on the horizon, its intensity waned, taking with it the palette of colors it had painted on the sky. Within minutes it had disappeared completely, leaving only a glow defined by a distant range—the very range that hid the mysterious facility he and Ivey had uncovered.

  Grae raised the cockpit’s sun visor. “How are we looking back there?”

  In the skimmer’s back seat, Ivey was monitoring sensors. “We’re clean. No nails.”

  “That’s not exactly the way to say—never mind. We’re still a way out, but we don’t know how far they’ve extended a defense perimeter.”

  As the sky transitioned to the darkness of full night, Grae dropped low, skimming over hilltops. He was relieved that the mountain waves of wind that could send them plummeting into the ground were of much lower intensity during this trip.

  A warbling alarm filled the cockpit, jolting Grae to high alert. “I’ve got nails!” Ivey almost yelled. “Direction two eight zero.”

  “Strong enough to give a return?”

  “Negative.”

  Grae banked hard to the left and dropped into a tree-filled valley.

  “It’s moving. Signal is still weak. Could be a drone.” For a few seconds Ivey was silent. “It’s changed direction—coming toward us. Can we get out of here?”

  “Not without dropping our pants and showing off our junk.”

  Grae cranked up the visual enhancers and looked for a spot to put down. The steep, forested terrain presented little opportunity for a clean LZ. Besides, every additional second in the air cut out at least another hour of travel on the ground—and hours mattered. He cut the skimmer into a canyon with a wide streambed in its base, and began to set down in a flat spot. With less than a meter to spare off the wingtips, he dropped into the shallow water and triggered the camo screen.

  “Do I need to be worried?” Ivey said.

  “I’ll let you know in a minute.” Grae switched his display to show the passive sensor screen. The pings from the bogey grew in strength, and the sensor panel presented an estimated speed based on the signals’ Doppler effect. “Seventy-three knots. It’s probably a Griffon or Goshawk. Definitely a drone of some sort.”
/>   “How do you know?”

  “Signal strength, airspeed.”

  “How capable are they?”

  “Enough. Mass sensors, radar, visual, infrared.”

  The sensor signals grew in intensity then stabilized, and the display showed the drone right on top of them. Grae removed his helmet, turned his head to Ivey, and brought his index finger to his lips to indicate silence. Slowly, he cracked open the skimmer’s canopy and listened.

  At first, the only sound was the hiss of canyon winds blowing through the heavy needles of the trees. But as he cocked his head to raise one of his ears toward the canopy opening, the whir of the fan propellers of a drone met his ears.

  He looked up, straining to see through the camo screen. It was partially translucent from within, but only enough to provide a limited vision of the surroundings. And here, deep in the canyon, under a blanket of darkness, Grae could see nothing.

  The drone became louder until Grae was sure it was just above them. Suddenly a bright white flash blinded Grae—a spotlight sweeping the area. It crossed directly over the skimmer twice during its search, but didn’t pause. Then it turned off, and the drone spun away and was gone.

  Grae watched as it meandered off to the south.

  “That was close,” Ivey said. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  “A bit.” Grae grinned.

  “How long do we give it until we fly out of here?”

  Grae unbuckled his harness and slid the canopy all the way open. “We’re not flying out.”

  “What do you mean, we’re not flying out?”

  “We must have given off some sort of sensor return.” Grae climbed out of the cockpit and slid to the ground. “I don’t want to risk it again.”

  Ivey followed him out of the skimmer. “Then how are we going to get to the ridge?”

  “We’re walking,” Grae said. “I put it at about twenty klicks as the crow flies.” He retrieved two slim backpacks from the rear cargo hatch and handed one to her.

  She took it. “This type of thing really isn’t my game, but won’t crossing that much ground in this terrain take a hell of a long time?”