The Susquehanna Virus Box Set
Page 138
The lights, which had been so bright, and which he’d not noted before, settled into ordinary lights. A face loomed above him. Jeremiah.
“You’re going to be okay,” Jeremiah said, his frown betraying his worry.
“I know,” Curtik replied. “God will take care of me.”
“We’re just lucky that Zora realized you’d been poisoned. She somehow knew it was a variant of curare and cyanide.”
“God told her,” Curtik said.
“That’s nice,” said Jeremiah. Was he humoring Curtik?
“I’m kinda cold.”
Jeremiah nodded. “We’re lowering your core temperature.”
“It’s Hathaway,” Curtik said.
“I know,” Jeremiah replied. “I’m going after him.”
“I’m coming too,” said Curtik.
Jeremiah shook his head. “You need to rest.”
“God told me I’d have good periods. I’ll feel better soon.”
“Sorry,” Jeremiah said.
“Actually, I’m feeling better already,” said Curtik. He tried to sit up but as soon as he did a sharp pain pierced his gut.
“If you’re feeling up to it,” Jeremiah said, “you can monitor the operation from here and run the drones we’ll need to pull it off.”
“You can’t go. You can barely move. And Ned’s officially retired. Zora’s injured. Who’s gonna go with you? Hannah banana?”
“I have a plan,” Jeremiah said. Sorrow lines formed on his face.
“Are you gonna have the surgery?” Curtik asked. He lifted his hands. They felt completely numb. “To make yourself better?”
“I don’t think it’ll come to that. There are always options—painkillers and other temporary measures.”
“I still don’t get why you don’t just fix yourself.”
“I know,” Jeremiah replied. “By the way, Congress just voted to shut Devereaux down. They’re sending the bill to the President.”
“Will she veto it?”
“Perhaps, but it passed by a veto-proof majority. Even the people who support Devereaux are feeling pressure to shut him down temporarily. Then, if God keeps appearing after Devereaux’s no longer functioning, they hope to bring him back and use his help.”
“Maybe you could use Eli,” Curtik said.
Jeremiah frowned. “Eli?”
“For the mission,” said Curtik, his teeth chattering, “to help with Hathaway. Eli’s a sneaky little bastard. If you can’t use me, maybe you can use him.”
“Eli is locked in a cell where he belongs. He’s amoral and manipulative, and he’ll do or say anything to get what he wants.”
“Sometimes the end justifies the means.”
“I realize you don’t see him the way I do,” Jeremiah said. “You’ve largely forgotten your childhood and you still see what he did to you as good—increasing your abilities, making you into a superb fighting machine. But there are no guarantees when it comes to violence. Look at what happened to you with Fowler. You did nothing wrong and yet he still poisoned you.”
“I shoulda knocked him out right away,” said Curtik, struggling to focus on the conversation as his body shivered uncontrollably, “instead of tryin’ to drag him out while he was conscious.”
“The point is that you were deprived of many things, including your mother. Eli took your entire life away from you. Yes, he gave you speed and strength and rapid healing. But his actions also contributed to your mother killing herself, not to mention what he did when you were on the Moon—how he stunted your emotional growth and all the people you and your fellow cadets murdered because of him.”
“I just . . . Hathaway . . . increase security,” Curtik said, realizing his words were not coming out the way he intended.
“You let me worry about that,” said Jeremiah. He glanced at Dr. Poole before returning his attention to Curtik. “We’re going to put you to sleep now for a while until we get you stabilized. Okay?”
Curtik nodded. He’d never felt this cold or tired before. A little rest would do him good.
Chapter 25
Aspen led the way to the infirmary. They met no Chescala on the way: no robots either. They seemed to have the ship to themselves. She wondered where the robots were, what happened when they received a command to shut down. She hadn’t asked about that process because the robots had been in charge as long as she’d been aboard and she’d just assumed they always would be.
Phan looked up from studying the med equipment screens as Addam and Shiloh carried Benn inside. Kammilee, waiting at the door, holding a box of QuikHeal bandages, rushed to Benn’s side, helping Addam and Shiloh settle him on one of the infirmary beds. She gasped when she saw his blackened stomach.
“Phan?” Aspen asked.
“The robots have retreated to their charging stations,” Phan said. “That’s their default home base.”
“Even the med robots?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Kammilee gently placed a large QuikHeal bandage on Benn’s stomach, activating it to full strength. Benn’s face relaxed as she grabbed his hand.
“That’s better,” he said. “But we all know it’s not enough.”
“We’ll find a way,” said Kammilee, turning to Aspen. “Won’t we?”
Aspen nodded. “We’ll do everything we can. Phan, what kind of help do you need?”
Phan gestured to the screens before him. “I should be able to turn the robots back on if I can get to them.”
Aspen, Addam and Shiloh huddled around Phan and studied the screens that showed the Chescala moving through the ship. Two Chescala went from cabin to cabin, searching for the cadets, Las-rifles in their hands. Two others had now found their unconscious friends outside the armory and were tending to them, while half a dozen others worked on the bridge, no doubt trying to take control of the ship. Two more Chescala jogged down the corridor toward the infirmary.
Addam checked the door. “It’s already locked,” he said.
“The ship,” said Aspen. “It’s helping us out wherever it can.”
“What do we do now?” Shiloh said. “We can’t wait here forever, and we need to get the med robots functioning to save Benn.”
“We let the Chescala in,” said Aspen. “Weapons ready. When the ship unlocks the door, they’ll come in hard. We take them out.”
“Are we killing them?” Addam asked. “Or just knocking them out?”
Aspen looked at the two injured Chescala outside the armory, now awake and being assisted by their companions. They began loading up on stun grenades and Las-weapons. She should have killed them when she had the chance.
“They wanted this war,” Aspen said.
“No prisoners,” said Benn. “Get a Las-rifle, Kammilee.”
As they set their weapons on full power, Aspen said, “Everybody down on your stomachs. Stay low. Ship, lights off, please, and let them in.”
The infirmary went black and her implant immediately provided night vision. A second later, the door swung open and the Chescala entered. They fired as they charged, aiming waist high as she’d suspected they would. Before they could adjust, the cadets returned fire, hitting both Chescala center mass. The Chescala dropped and the lights came back on.
Getting to her feet, Aspen said, “If we can get Xinliu and Mei-Xing activated, they can probably get the others online. Where are they located?”
Phan pulled up a schematic on one of the screens and pointed. “Down this corridor in the port charging room.” He stared at the schematic as if seeing something more, then tapped it a couple times.
“Kammilee,” Aspen said, “you stay here with Benn and see if you can get the med equipment working. The rest of us will try to activate Xinliu and Mei-Xing. The Chescala, if they know what they’re doing, will deploy to the charging areas.”
“Yup,” Addam said. He pulled up another screen. “They’ve stopped searching our cabins. Looks like they’re heading that way. They’ll suspect we killed these two if they’re not getting pings via implant any longer.”
“At least the Chescala on the bridge are staying put,” said Shiloh. “We don’t have to worry about—”
“Actually,” Addam said, “they’re not. A couple of them are moving toward the door.”
“Ship?” said Aspen. “Can you keep them on the bridge?”
On the screen showing the bridge, two Chescala congregated at the door, pounding on it, then pulling out their Las-pistols and firing at the locking mechanism. The others returned to work trying to gain control of the ship.
The ship began to vibrate.
“We have to move quickly,” Aspen said, somehow knowing this was what the ship wanted. It couldn’t contain the Chescala for long. “Good luck,” she said to Kammilee and Benn as she opened the door.
“You too,” said Kammilee.
Addam, Shiloh and Phan flanked her as she ran down the corridor.
“Do we have a plan?” Addam asked. “They’ll be expecting us to attack.”
“We have the advantage,” Aspen said. “The ship won’t allow them to track us. So even though they know we’re going to attack, they won’t know when or how.”
“But they’ll know where we’re coming from,” said Shiloh. “There’s only one way to approach them.”
“Maybe not,” Phan said. “Maybe the ship can open a wall in the cargo hold near the charging station.”
“What are you talking about?” Aspen asked.
“A few of these interior walls can be moved to accommodate changes. So, for example, if the ship needed to take on extra cargo for some reason, the walls of the hold can be moved or even removed completely. I noticed it on the schematic.”
“That’s brilliant,” Aspen said. “Well done. Ship, can you get us access to the cargo hold?”
Again the ship vibrated. Shiloh, who had always had phenomenal balance, seemed unaffected but Aspen bumped against the wall and Phan stumbled. Addam grabbed Phan’s arm and kept moving.
Hold on, Phan sent via implant as they approached a curve. We’ll be on them after we round this curve and the next one.
“Ship?” Aspen whispered. “We need to enter the cargo hold now.”
A part of the wall to their right rotated slightly, creating an opening. Aspen led the way through and the wall closed behind them. She looked at Phan.
“This way,” he said as he padded forward, moving quietly.
They passed hundreds of crates as they moved toward the rear of the ship. What was in them all? Aspen assumed it was mostly food supplies. She made a note to check on the contents later.
When they reached the far wall, Phan stopped.
“If we exit here,” he spoke in little more than a whisper, “we’ll be right on top of them.”
“Ship,” said Aspen, “how many Chescala are out there?”
The wall became a screen, showing three Chescala outside the charging station, heavily armed. Two faced the way they’d come. The other faced to the rear of the ship, though there was nothing in that direction but a corridor leading to the engine room.
“Where are the others?” Aspen asked.
An image of the bridge came up. The door was now open, cut away by Las-weapons, and four Chescala continued to work on the computers that ran the ship. The screen shifted to show a couple Chescala running down a corridor, but before Aspen could figure out where they were, the screen went dark.
“Ship?” Aspen said.
Not a sound, not a vibration.
“Think they took the ship?” Addam asked.
“Maybe,” said Aspen. “Ship?”
After a few seconds of silence, Shiloh said, “How do we open the wall?”
The wall looked solid, but the ship might have prepared it for easy opening while they were making their way here. There had been sufficient time for it to do so and it was far smarter than the Chescala gave it credit for. Aspen placed a palm on the wall. It felt warmer than it should. “Ready?”
The cadets checked their weapons and nodded.
Aspen pushed on the wall. Nothing. She tried pulling it left and right to no avail. She scanned the edges but detected nothing that looked like a weakness.
Hurry, Kammilee sent. Benn doesn’t have much time.
Addam said, “Damn it, Aspen, we have to do something.”
Aspen adjusted her implant to scan-plus-infrared—a modified x-ray—and studied the wall, noting that the upper left and lower right corners were all that held the wall in place. The rest of it had been separated by the ship before it went off-line. “God, I’m such an idiot,” she said as she pointed to the corners. “My infrared scanner shows only two connection points remain. We take those out and we should be able to push the wall down.”
“We didn’t think of it either,” said Shiloh. She aimed at the top left corner. Aspen aimed low. Together they fired.
Addam and Phan pushed on the wall, knocking it into the corridor with a loud crash.
The Chescala turned toward the hold and fired their Las-rifles as Aspen and her cadets returned fire. Red flashes filled the air and the stench of burning flesh filled her nostrils. As she fired her Las-rifle, Aspen felt a burning sensation on her left hip.
Within seconds it was over. The three Chescala lay on the floor.
Aspen looked down and saw that she’d been hit by a laser pulse. It didn’t seem too severe. It must have barely grazed her. Otherwise, she’d have been knocked out and possibly killed. It stung though. “Everybody okay?” she asked.
They all nodded. Phan tried the door of the charging station, but it was locked. “Slight problem,” he said.
“More of them will be coming soon,” said Aspen.
“Stand back,” Addam said. He aimed at the locking mechanism and fired a long red burst.
Within a few seconds Phan was able to kick the door in.
“Grab the bodies,” Aspen said.
“Why?” Shiloh asked.
“Hostages. To prevent the Chescala from attacking us.”
“But they’re dead. Oh. I get it. They won’t know that.”
They hauled the Chescala into the charging station and swung the door shut. Now all they had to do was figure out how to awaken the robots.
Chapter 26
Doug paced as best he could in his small pod. He’d grown weary of following Earth news and had shut off the feed. Mostly he turned in circles, going clockwise for ten “laps” and then reversing direction for ten. After twenty laps, he would look over at the screen that showed the entrance to the New Dawn colony to see if anyone was coming or going. But the Escala stayed underground.
Dr. Wellon had visited him several times in the past few days, giving him various bacterial treatments designed to build up his immune system and slow the spread of the virus. He’d chatted with Celestia by vid-link as well as with Zeriphi and even Quekri, but he couldn’t help feeling like a prisoner. Dr. Wellon had promised a more thorough explanation today. She was due to check in with him any minute.
He glanced at the screen displaying the New Dawn entrance: still no sign of Dr. Wellon. Where was she?
Quekri had suggested that he work on the documentary about Escala life on Mars, which Devereaux had championed before Doug even left Earth. But he felt a prick of annoyance at others running his life. First it had been drugs, then the justice system and finally Devereaux, who had offered more than he deserved, more than he could ever repay. But he wanted to run his own life now. So even though the Escala seemed eager to cooperate, he sat in his pod doing nothing. Well, he pouted.
And why not? He was dying. He had the right to pout. These damn miners had been no help either. They believed he’d infected them and if they we
re right, he’d killed them all too and that was a terrible burden to bear. So he was entitled to pout a little.
A chime sounded. He’d been so self-involved he hadn’t noticed Dr. Wellon approaching.
He opened the outer hatch for her, then sealed it behind her and opened the inner hatch. Dr. Wellon stepped inside, a large creature encased in a Mars suit, and waited until the seals engaged behind her before removing her helmet, her dark hair tied up in a bun, streaks of gray running through it. Doug hadn’t noticed them before. When had she gotten gray hairs?
“Hello, Doug,” she said.
“It’s good to see you, Doctor.”
“You don’t have to call me doctor. Wellon will serve.”
“Okay,” Doug replied.
She removed her Mars suit and gestured to the chair.
“Of course,” Doug said. “Have a seat. I’m sorry. Can I get you anything? I have nutri-water and . . .”
His voice trailed off as she waved away the offer.
She sat, saying nothing for a moment. She looked sad, beaten down. That must mean it’s bad news. I’m dying faster than she thought. Very well. I’ll take it like a man, whatever that means. Doug sat on the bed across from her.
“How are you doing in here?” Dr. Wellon finally said.
“I’m fine. Nervous. A little lonely. I’m not sure if it helps that I was in prison a few times. On the one hand, I’m sort of used to it. On the other, I’m getting a little cage-happy.”
“That ends today.”
“Is the quarantine area ready?”
Dr. Wellon shook her head. “You’re not coming to the New Dawn settlement. You’re going back to live with the miners.”