by K A Bledsoe
“Who are they?” asked Diarmin.
“They are Private Levi and Corporal Zachariah.”
“But those aren’t the men who came aboard,” said Quinn.
“Exactly.” Allison’s mouth was set in a grim line.
“The ones who came on board must have taken their identities.” Lenore’s teeth gritted, her lips probably in a grim line identical to Allison’s. “It may be neither of our passengers are to blame for any of the problems, especially the confiscation of the cargo.”
“Unless they are working with Bondle?” asked Quinn.
Diarmin shook his head. “Why would they need to hack into the computer system if they were working with him?”
“At least now we know who to watch out for. Anything else, Alli?”
She looked down, shuffling her feet. “Well, I did find another data blank. It happened after I began investigating so I missed it because I was only checking out previous occurrences.”
“When did this other one happen?” asked Diarmin.
Allison shot a quick glance at her brother before she turned over a pad to her parents. Lenore looked over Diarmin’s shoulder at the readout, although with that glance at Quinn, she had a good idea when the data blank had occurred.
“When?” asked Quinn, obviously irritated at being left out.
Diarmin hesitated in answering but Lenore would not hide things from her son anymore, especially after his outburst earlier.
“Right after Kurla was restricted to her cabin,” she said, watching Quinn for his reaction.
His face flushed slightly. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
“This blank is most likely someone sending a signal, hidden within our own systems, then erased to cover their tracks,” said Diarmin. “I have, um, seen something similar.”
Lenore nodded. She had, too. She turned back to Allison. “Can you find out where the signal came from?”
Allison shook her head. “All I know is that it was from somewhere on the ship that was not our own systems.”
“See?” said Quinn, angrily. “It could have been from either of our passengers. Or from someone outside the ship trying to access those security devices.” He crossed his arms, determined to be stubborn.
“Your father and I will see if we have any better luck, having experienced this before,” said Lenore. “We need to get going. Anything else, Allison? About this, the patrol or the lab?”
“No, but I will keep digging.” She turned to go but Diarmin called her name. She turned back and caught the pad he tossed to her.
“First, check out what I found on the devices. There are fragments of a program and an indicator of a master device that may have controlled all three. See what you can decipher. We may need that information before we reach the base.”
Allison nodded and headed back down the ladder.
“Take the ship to the patrol base,” said Lenore. “I’m going to prep.”
Chapter Thirty
Diarmin maneuvered the yacht into orbit around the asteroid that housed the base. As Quinn put the tiny asteroid on the screen, Diarmin realized that Allison was correct in her assessment that it was really more of an outpost than a base.
“We’re in range, Alli,” said Diarmin. “Open a channel please.”
Allison hit a couple keys and nodded to her mother.
“Base five-seven. This is Captain Fleming calling for Lieutenant Sherrod Hammins. Please respond.”
The family waited, tense, for an answer. Nothing. Diarmin felt alarms going off in the back of his mind. His wife seemed calm as she hailed again.
“Repeat, base five-seven. This is Captain Fleming calling for Lieutenant Sherrod Hammins. Please respond.” As the silence stretched, Lenore repeated the message once more, this time asking for anyone to respond.
All eyes on the bridge glanced back and forth at each other. Without a word, Lenore shot out of her chair and down the ladder. Diarmin knew she was going to don all her gear, not just the basic prep she had done earlier.
“Alli, can you get a read on the base?”
“No clear readings of any kind, but I don’t know if it is because of a scattering field or the artificial atmosphere surrounding the base. All I can read is that there is one large building, but no life signs or other ships are detected.”
“Keep checking.” Diarmin stood. “Quinn, keep repeating the hail and let me know the instant either of you find anything.”
Quinn nodded and Diarmin headed for their cabin. Sure enough, Lenore was securing the last of her personal devices as he entered. She looked at him expectantly.
“Still nothing. Alli can read an atmosphere so we won’t need suits but that’s all we know.”
Lenore nodded. “Standard for a small patrol base like this one. We go in prepared for anything. Level Five alert.”
“We? Who’s we?”
Lenore looked at him, eyes slightly narrowed. “You and I of course. The kids are safer on the ship.”
“Maybe Quinn should go with you and I can be the back-up.”
“Absolutely not.” She shoved past him and pulled the weapons bag out of their closet.
“Quinn has been training for missions. We need to start including him more.” Despite his arguments, he began to arm himself as well. Old habits, he thought.
“Not this time.”
“You heard him as well as I did. When will be the right time?” He lowered his voice. “If it’s not soon, it may be never.”
She snapped the last blaster in place and looked directly at Diarmin. “When we have at least a vague idea of what we are going into. When we have a clear plan. Quinn hasn’t enough experience to know what to do on the spur of the moment. Another time.” She left the cabin. Diarmin knew better than to argue with her when she was focused on upcoming action. He finished his preparations and followed his wife.
***
Diarmin circled the base once with the shuttle before they landed. Lenore spoke aloud, knowing Quinn was listening back on their yacht.
“No sign of the patrol ship. No evidence of damage to the base. The doors seem to be secure. Diarmin is going to land.”
“Acknowledged.”
“Be advised that though my implant is designed to pierce scattering fields, we may lose contact once we are inside the atmosphere.”
“Understood.”
Lenore grimaced at Quinn’s terse responses. He didn’t sound happy. He had argued like his father that he should go to the base, leaving Diarmin and Allison as back up. Lenore stood firm and tried to make it seem like Quinn was vital on the ship. She had told him he needed to monitor closely in case action was needed. Allison was working on the devices to see if she could glean anything from the program Diarmin had detected. But Lenore knew keeping them both busy wouldn’t stop them from doing something stupid if she and Diarmin were to get into trouble.
Well, she simply had to make sure they didn’t.
The shuttle was on the ground and she was out the door as soon as it opened wide enough. Her blaster led the way, and she trusted Diarmin with her back. Nothing appeared amiss, but she didn’t let down her guard.
They made their way to the door of the base with no problems. Diarmin pulled out his unlocking mechanism, but it wasn’t necessary as the door opened at Lenore’s touch.
“Not locked,” he whispered. “And we were unchallenged.”
“Not a good sign,” she answered just as quietly. “Ready?”
He nodded and she dashed through the door, eyes darting all around. The entry room was normal with no guard stationed at the window. Since that position should have been covered by the private, she wasn’t surprised to find it empty. The door to the inner section of the base was also unlocked, and this time it was Diarmin’s turn to leap through while she kept an eye out for an ambush. Nobody was in the room but for the first time, there were signs of a fight. Not a huge one, a couple of chairs tipped over, papers scattered on the floor. The most telling sign was the blaster mark
on the wall just over the desk. She indicated the mark with a gesture of her weapon and Diarmin nodded. The blast mark was located slightly above where a head would be seated at the desk. It had been to intimidate the person sitting there, probably Lieutenant Hammins.
They slowly approached the open door on the other side of the room. If it was a standard base, it would lead to the galley and cabins of those stationed there. The two paced the corridor, past the first cabin, obviously for the highest ranked officer. The open door showed a mess as if it had been looted. The door on the left held a room with two beds and foot lockers. Nothing was out of place except unmade beds, so the evidence seemed to support a coup by the two false patrolmen. The galley was empty, not even looted though Lenore wouldn’t blame them since patrol rations were only eaten when there was nothing else to be had.
Past the galley was one more door. This one was locked, confirming Lenore’s suspicions that not all of the patrolmen and passengers had been involved in the theft of the cargo. The door most likely led to the brig, and the fact that it was locked meant whoever took the ship wanted to make sure the others stayed put. Diarmin attached his device and had the door open in ten seconds. Not letting down her guard, Lenore peered around the corner and saw two cells. The one on the left was empty, force field down, but the other contained at least two people talking quietly that she couldn’t see from her present position. The rest of the room was vacant, so she eased in as quietly as possible and beckoned Diarmin to follow.
As she came into full view of the cell, she noticed Bondle and Lieutenant Hammins sitting on the bed. The scientist seemed to be unharmed, but the lieutenant had a blood-soaked cloth awkwardly tied to the left side of his head down over his eye. Bondle looked up immediately.
“Captain!”
Despite his injuries, Hammins stood and tried to shield Bondle with his body.
“Sherrod, this is ridiculous. They’re friends.” Bondle gently pressed the lieutenant back to the bed. Hammins sat down hard, just short of collapsing, nearly displacing the cloth. Bondle sat next to him to adjust the makeshift bandage before he looked back at Lenore. “You are friends, aren’t you?” His eyes looked worried.
“Since we are here to get you out, it should be obvious we aren’t working for whomever did this to you,” said Lenore.
“What’s the code to open the cell?” asked Diarmin.
Hammins mumbled the proper sequence and the force field vanished as Diarmin typed it in. Lenore indicated the door they had come through to Diarmin. He nodded and placed himself at the door, blaster ready. Lenore helped the lieutenant to his feet, noting he had a slight limp.
“Do you have a medical bay?” she asked.
“At the other end of this corridor,” he said.
She and Bondle arranged themselves on either side of him, his arms around their shoulders, and slowly helped him to the bay.
“What happened?”
“Mutiny,” spat Hammins. Lenore could see the fire in his uninjured eye and was glad to see his spirit wasn’t at all diminished.
“A little more detail would be helpful, Lieutenant,” she said. When he opened his mouth to answer she stopped him. “Let’s let Bondle answer first then you can add your account.”
He looked about to protest when he nearly tripped and grunted with pain. He nodded so Bondle spoke.
“We had just landed and were sitting at Sherrod’s desk. I was giving my account of everything and he was writing up an official report. Suddenly, the corporal simply came over, pulled his weapon and shot at the wall behind Sherrod, um Lieutenant Hammins.”
The first name meant that the two had been in the cell for some time and Bondle was just realizing that their newfound familiarity may not be appropriate. Lenore ignored the correction.
“Go on.”
“Hammins reacted as any officer would and jumped up, reaching for his own weapon but the corporal was now pointing his gun right at his face. We were helpless then and obeyed the demand to head for the cells. Right after I went in, Sherrod attacked the corporal and they fought. He would have succeeded, even broke the man’s wrist I think, if the private hadn’t come in and shot at Sherrod. The blast caught him in the side of the head, and I am afraid he may lose his left eye.”
They had reached the medical bay and eased the lieutenant onto the bed. Lenore gently placed the IV cuff around his arm and activated the medbed. It would diagnose and dispense the proper medications and even fix whatever damage it could. It wasn’t very sophisticated, however, and she privately agreed that Hammins would probably lose his eye as she unwrapped the cloth from his head.
“What did they want?” she asked Bondle.
“They didn’t ask for anything, just locked us in here. Oh, the private asked why they didn’t just kill us and the other said…let me see if I can remember exactly. He said, ‘Boss said we may need the scientist,’ and then something about how the goody-good lieutenant would die soon of his wound anyway.”
“What happened to Kurla?”
“They took her,” Hammins said, his voice hoarse but reviving somewhat now that painkillers had entered his system. “They needed a hostage, they said.” He tried to sit up, but Lenore pushed him back down. He protested. “I need to file a report. Need to go after her. And the ship. Can’t believe a patrolman would betray...” His words started to slur. In his weakened state, Lenore held him down easily.
“Lieutenant Hammins, those men were imposters. Probably killed the real Levi and Zachariah and assumed their identities,” she said.
“All the more reason to contact headquarters. They need to know.” He tried to disengage the IV cuff. Lenore held firm.
“Of course, Lieutenant, but let the medbed stabilize your wounds first or you will pass out in the middle of your report.” She pushed some additional buttons.
“Thank you, Captain Fleming. I owe you one.” He relaxed back and his eyes began to flutter close. His last words came out as a mumble but were understood. “Call me Sherrod…”
“Is he okay?” asked Bondle.
“He will be. I sedated him for now,” said Lenore. “He doesn’t need to be filing reports with those wounds.”
“But my cargo, and Miss Plaad—”
“We will take care of that, Bondle. Now it’s time for us to talk.” Lenore took Bondle’s arm and steered him out of the room and back to the front office, beckoning to Diarmin to follow as they passed him. All three sat and Lenore didn’t hesitate.
“Tell us, Mr. Bondle. Why would they steal a cargo of plague medicines? Unless you have been lying to us from the start.”
He raised his hands at her imperative tone. “No, no, I didn’t lie! They are vaccines, it’s just that…well… I didn’t tell you everything about them.” His shoulders slumped and he looked down. Lenore said nothing, just kept glaring, knowing he was going to tell everything.
“Remember I had said that the cultures weren’t dangerous to you because they haven’t been purposed yet? Well, this vaccine is designed to adapt to the particular strain introduced into it. You inject a few diseased cells and it adapts to destroy that particular disease. This is how I am hoping to eradicate the rapidly mutating plague on my planet.”
“If it works like you say,” said Diarmin, “it can be adapted for almost any cure in the galaxy. That would be very valuable to anyone bringing it to market.”
Bondle nodded but the look on his face turned even more anguished. “Yes, I was hoping that would be the case and my planet could begin to recoup its horrible losses. But there’s more.” He stopped and ran his right hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. After several false starts, Lenore spoke for him.
“The cultures can be purposed for negative effects as well, can’t they?”
Bondle swallowed and nodded, eyes still on the floor.
“So, we are talking about potential bioweapons as well,” said Diarmin, voice grim. “Now we know why they had to keep you alive, to create more if they can’t figure out how to
themselves.”
“Who knows about the other possible applications of these vaccines?” asked Lenore.
“Only myself and my assistant, Evan Mill. Everyone else only worked on sections, never the entire strain.” He shook his head. “I am sorry. I probably should have said something, but I didn’t want my creation to be used as a weapon. It is supposed to heal.”
Lenore’s heart went out to the man. She knew how he felt. Obligated to keep secrets, but secrecy could damage in the long run. She put a hand on his shoulder.
“I should tell you that your assistant is dead.” There was no easy way to say that.
Bondle’s head came up and the shock was too real. “No! How? Why?”
“We think someone wanted information, but Mill wouldn’t give it,” said Diarmin. “He gave his life protecting your creation.”
Lenore peered sideways at Diarmin. They had never really discussed or concluded that, but he was probably right. And trying to comfort Bondle whose gaze had returned to the floor. Bondle was fighting tears, but now was not the time for grief. She stood and that got his attention.
“Where are you going?”
“I am going to find that patrol ship and those men.”
Bondle looked up at her from his chair. “And my cargo?” The hesitant look in his eyes told Lenore that he wasn’t sure what she intended. Fighting down anger at the implication that she would run off with his cargo, she replied, trying not to grit her teeth. He had been through a lot and these new experiences told him he couldn’t trust anyone.
“Mr. Bondle. You signed on as a passenger. I am bound by my honor as a captain to see that you and your cargo reach your destination intact.”
His reaction was not what she expected. He leapt up and threw his arms around her. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Captain. You have no idea what that means to me.”
Stiff and fighting the urge to shove him away, Lenore looked at Diarmin and saw him trying not to smile. That drained the tension from her, and she relaxed her posture and gently disengaged Bondle. “You are welcome. By my calculations, we have two days to deliver your cargo, Mr. Bondle. We need to get started.”
