by Kal Spriggs
“And sometime around then it decides to squash us,” Bob said, dryly.
“Maybe... maybe not,” Mel said. She focused on her physical pain. She’d never lied well. Perhaps it came from her same inability to judge who to trust. “I noticed whatever you did still has its sensors out,” Mel said.
Stasia frowned, “I thought it would have repaired the damage by now.”
“That it didn’t is another sign that the repairs are cobbled together,” Mel slowly eased out her right leg. She froze as various parts of her hip, stomach, and chest told her this was a very bad idea. “We saw the machine shop at work. We saw that one area still being repaired. God, we sure felt the cobbled-together warp drive! I think this thing’s this close,” Mel pinched her finger and thump a centimeter apart, “to collapse. We might just push it that little extra bit.”
“And we might just get killed in the attempt,” Marcus said. “Maybe we should cut our losses…”
Her head snapped around, and she couldn’t keep her anger fully contained, “Cut our losses? Is that what you thought when you left me? Well, there’s no running now, Marcus. We can die standing for something, or we can die when the Guard blow this ship out of space. Your choice.”
Marcus looked away, with a look of real hurt on his face. She didn’t care.
“Wow, that was motivational,” Bob, said. “Now… do you have anything besides ‘die’ as your plan?”
“Well, think about it. We push the AI too far, it collapses. We’ll have the time then to try and cobble something together, maybe a radio or something. We’re on one of the main routes to Vagyr.” She grunted again, “Shit, maybe we’ll just get lucky and get pulled out of warp by some pirates or a counter-pirate patrol?”
Brian stared at her, “Wishful thinking?”
Mel snorted, then winced at a muscle spasm. “Damn, that hurt.” She let out a painful sigh, “Call it wishful thinking, call it a prayer, call it astral projection. I don’t care, it’s a chance, and we’ve run out of other options.”
“Da,” Stasia said, startling them all. The woman stood, “In hacking, we call it a cascade effect. One system goes down, then another, then another. With luck, we can take the ship down, and then find a way off.”
Bob nodded, “Well... any plan that’s not ‘hey, let’s blow ourselves up’ sounds good.”
Brian continued to stare at her, almost as if he sensed a change. Perhaps something about his being a Genemod gave him a different perspective than the others. Finally he spoke, “It’s a chance. Strak already gave his life for this, I’d be spitting on his memory if I didn’t do my best.”
Mel looked over at Marcus.
Marcus just nodded.
***
“You really think knocking out the waste heat system will stop the ship?” Marcus asked. Mel recognized the tone of uncertainty in his voice. He didn't disagree with her arguments... but something bothered him about her plan.
Stasia looked up from the lift control panel. “Da, heat is big problem in space.”
“Yes, I know that, thank you.” Marcus growled, “It’s just…”
“What? Not glorious enough?” Mel asked.
Brian scowled, “A bunch of piping and pumps. Didn’t you say there’s two backup systems?”
The Genemod looked vaguely insulted, though whether that was due to his lack of knowledge about the machinery or the simple job they were undertaking, Mel couldn't say.
“There’s three. Plus there’s the engine room primary coolant system,” Bob said as he looked through his rucksack. “I wish we had more explosives.”
“If the engine room has the primary coolant system, shouldn’t we hit there first, while we know the AI can’t see us?” Stasia asked.
Mel frowned. She definitely didn’t want them headed that way. It looked like she hadn’t prepared her arguments for nothing, though; “There are a lot of primary systems there. If the ship has any kind of secondary sensors, or if it stationed repair ‘bots or security ‘dogs’ anywhere, that would be the place.”
Bob nodded, “Makes sense. It can guard a lot of systems there. It’s a choke point that it can control.”
“That’s why the forward waste heat system’s a good idea,” Mel said. “It’s away from anything else important. It also diffuses the heat from the forward turrets.” It also made a great place for an ambush, though that wasn’t her main reason for choosing it the place to make her move.
“All right,” Marcus growled. He glared at her, as if somehow angry and hurt.
His brain didn’t know, but his subconscious did, Mel realized. It bothered him like a dog with an itch it couldn’t scratch. He knew something wasn’t as it should be.
Mel groaned as she tried to stand.
Marcus moved closer, “Here, let me help—”
“No!” Mel shouted, far too loudly. Everyone looked.
Mel flushed, embarrassed, “Please… don’t. I’m one bruise from my hips to my chin. It hurts too much to be touched.”
“Oh, sorry,” Marcus got that same hurt expression again.
She could live with that.
“Lift will work now,” Stasia said.
“Great,” Bob said, with his massive revolver out. Absently, he spun the cylinder before tucking it back into his shoulder holster. “Let’s go make problems for other people.”
Marcus glanced at him, “Hey, that’s catchy.”
Bob smiled, “Maybe I’ll make it a trademark.”
Mel smiled despite herself. She followed the others into the cramped lift. In theory, they could take it all the way to the command deck, but Mel doubted they’d get far if they tried.
She watched Stasia work. The woman seemed past her previous suspicions. The lift rose and Mel bit her lip as she thought about what came ahead. She felt a twinge of guilt, which she pushed down ruthlessly.
Marcus would get what he deserved. And the truth will set me free…
She snorted. She shouldn’t have. It hurt.
The lift stopped. “Okay, Level Four.”
She stepped off the lift with the others. The AI hadn’t locked down this level. Until now, both groups of intruders had remained on Level Two. Mel knew some of the access ways led between levels, but many of them would be little more than ladder-ways, and all of them locked-down. The ship probably felt secure enough with its lock-down on the threatened deck.
She’d convinced the others to use the lift because it saved them time, it got them pretty close to the forward compartments and because she hurt too much to be able to climb a ladder. They moved quickly down the corridor.
She looked around, more and more nervous as the anticipated time approached.
They passed a number of compartments and empty corridors. The echoes of their footsteps on the mesh deck seemed to reverberate far too loud. Mel fought the urge to walk lightly and instead stomped her feet harder. She caught an amused glance from Bob and stuck her tongue out at him.
Finally they stopped before a closed and locked hatch. “This is it.”
Stasia began working to open the door. To Mel, it seemed the process took far longer than normal. She had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from pushing the other woman aside; her heart beat so loud, she didn’t know how the others couldn’t hear it.
The door opened. Brian and Bob led the way inside. They’d cobbled together a couple of explosive charges. They’d only need one to take out the system, but they wanted redundancy.
Mel understood that. Any good plan had multiple layers.
Stasia followed the others into the room.
Marcus waited for Mel to step inside. Mel stepped through the door, halting just inside the dark room. She heard Marcus follow her and turned to watch him start to hot-wire the door shut.
She’d picked this chamber because of its location and its easy access. It was one of the few machinery spaces in a fully pressurized and shielded compartment. That meant she’d be able to see Marcus’s face when she made her move. They hadn’t
offered her a new weapon on her return.
Perhaps they thought her injuries too grave. Perhaps, after the incident with Giles, they didn’t trust her with one. It didn’t matter. She had the pistol tucked at her back beneath her oversized body armor.
Now she drew it, moving smoothly despite her body’s protests. Brian and Bob continued to focus on their tasks. Stasia peered at her datapad. Marcus was too focused on the hatch to see her movement.
She cocked the pistol – the same pistol with which she’d accidentally killed Giles – and brought it up with perfect timing to place the barrel against Marcus’s forehead just as he turned.
Her finger tightened slightly on the trigger, seeing his eyes widen in shock. The others’ movements slowed, then stopped.
Carefully, slowly, she moved to the side, keeping Marcus turning with her so that the barrel didn’t leave his forehead for a moment.
“That’s better,” she said, able to see the others. Bob and Brian had placed their charges and were still, but Brian was poised to move.
“You’re fast, Brian, but you aren’t fast enough. Stay where you are.” Mel spoke slowly, calmly. “This is something that has to happen. Let it happen.”
“What are you doing?” Stasia demanded.
“I’m making things right,” Mel said, her voice flat and hard. She watched the others out of her peripheral vision as she stared into Marcus’ eyes. “I’m going to ask you one time, and one time only.”
She pressed the gun hard against Marcus’ forehead. “Did you kill my parents?”
CHAPTER IX
Time: 2000 Zulu, 15 June 291 G.D.
Location: Fenris, Five days from Vagyr
Mel stared into Marcus’ eyes.
She watched his pupils dilate and his eyes widen, darting between her face and the others. She saw him evaluate her stance, the pressure of her finger on the trigger. He was calculating distances, relative movements; his eyes narrowed, then narrowed further.
And then he blinked. He met her eyes... really met her eyes. And closed his own, as if writing something into his memory.
Shock on his face, fading into panic, and she recognized the moment that his panic become desperation. Finally, she saw acceptance. That was good; he would answer her with the truth now.
Marcus spoke, his voice slow, his words sounding pained: “I planned and coordinated the attack targeting your parents and a scientist named Marie Malus. I am responsible for their deaths, and the deaths of twenty three other people.” He let out a slight sigh. “I should have told you years ago and… I’m sorry.”
She let out a slight gasp. She bit out each word, “You should be.”
“Your brother told you?” Marcus sounded broken.
He sounded so pathetic that she felt slightly sick. She could understand his despair. In a few short days, all his terrible secrets had come out. His drug addictions made him seem pathetic, then the atrocities of a past she could only describe as monstrous.
“My brother told me,” Mel said, putting every ounce of anger into her words. Her hand trembled slightly, not with fear, but with barely contained rage. She wanted very badly to pull the trigger. Not to kill Marcus, but to kill the man who’d taken so much from her. Who’d torn her world apart.
“What is going on?” Stasia asked.
Mel let out an angry breath. “I lied. The GFN didn’t leave me; I woke tied up. My brother was there, and he told me the truth about some things.” She gritted her teeth and ground the barrel of the pistol against Marcus’s forehead. He winced slightly.
“He was so worried about protecting me he didn’t want to tell me before.” She let out a slight breath. “Marcus, or Jean Paul Leon, why don’t you tell them, straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak?”
He spoke, his voice wooden: “I was born on New Paris. Prominent family. Third child, therefore expected to join the military. My older brother inherited the business. My sister went into politics. I joined the Parisian Sector Guard Fleet Academy.”
He had their attention, Mel saw; his words had the same awful majesty of a ship falling from orbit. “I graduated in the top ten in my class. Not top ten percent, the top ten. I could have written my ticket anywhere. I chose to enter Guard Intelligence. I knew it was right. I believed it was right.”
He swallowed slightly. “Part of their indoctrination involves taking rex prime. On graduation and acceptance, they surgically implant a rex dispenser.” He locked eyes with Mel, “I won’t blame what I did on the drugs. They had a part, but it was me making the decisions.
“My first few assignments were… bad. I was a junior agent. I received kill orders. Detain orders. Occasionally, they told me why. Mostly… not.” Marcus shrugged, “I was a patriot. I believed in the cause. The Guard had defended humanity for centuries… it had to remain. I did what they told me. I excelled at the job.”
He gave a self depreciating smirk. “They recognized that and I made senior agent. I had two junior agents assigned to me, Agents Mueller and Scadden. I was to mold them, to shape them. Our first assignments were simple; mostly underworld thugs who sought entry into politics. Once I had to deal with a rex prime supplier who thought to hold the supply over Guard Intelligence to gain power.”
He frowned slightly, “That’s where I started to gain a reputation for excess.” His voice changed, and now Mel clearly heard the self-loathing, “The other agents loved it. The Agency always worked in the shadows, always left minimal signs of its passage. I wallowed in attention. I sent pieces of him to every underworld boss in the Parisian Sector. I sent pieces of his family to every one of his contacts.”
“I did worse later.” From the horror in his eyes, Mel believed him.
“And then, then I got an easy mission, or so it seemed.” Marcus shrugged, “Eliminate a scientist who planned on defecting with her research and make enough of a mess that others wouldn’t dare to leave.”
Mel clenched her jaw at the thought... and at the fact that she had believed the official story for so long.
“I thought it was genius at the time,” Marcus went on. “Kill the scientist, make it look like a terrorist attack, and not only scare away the others thinking about defecting, but terrify anyone thinking about going against the Guard. It went off perfectly… we recruited a mental case to plant the bomb and an arsonist to make it. I thought everything was great. Until it all went wrong.”
He sighed, “Verene Malus got cold feet. She never showed. The whole operation was for nothing.” He shrugged slightly, “The other agents, even my apprentices, thought it a success. Verene Malus thought it a sign from God, certainly.” He gave a grim smile.
“It was my first failure. It made me… reconsider things. I did some research on the victims. I learned about their families. I looked for something, something to justify it. And then I found you.”
“You found me?” Mel asked, startled by the words. Her eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
“At first… I thought I found salvation. I thought I found a case of success that would justify it all. The tragic murder of the young cadet’s parents in a terrorist act. It sends the valiant woman on a crusade to uphold the mandates of the UNC and Guard Fleet. Sounded great… until I found you’d resigned.
“Think of that… you had the perfect career lined up. You could become a ship captain and smashed pirates or defeated the enemies of humanity. You could have joined Guard Intelligence and hunted those responsible. Hell, you could have joined the Guard Army and defended worlds from insurrection and invasion.” He snorted, “I could have taken any of those things. Instead, you resigned. In your letter, you wrote about how you feared you’d let your own emotions interfere with your job. You worried you’d care more about revenge than justice.”
You resigned because you didn’t want to become the thing that I was.” Marcus met her eyes. “Your resignation letter destroyed my world.”
***
“So then you came to me? You wanted me to take revenge?” Mel aske
d.
He shook his head, “It took me six months to leave the Agency, to quit rex entirely, and then to track you down. The hardest part was leaving the Agency alive.” He shrugged, “They don’t like people knowing their secrets. I had a ‘good’ reputation, though. They let me go.
“I felt, weaker, less of a person without rex. It took me a while before I could even speak to people. Then, finally, I found you.” His lip curled in self-disgust. “I’d rehearsed my death a thousand times. I even thought it noble, a last good act to offset the many bad. Until I saw you.” He closed his eyes. “There you were, you’d lost your parents, I’d taken them from you, but you didn’t hunger. You didn’t hate, not the way I wanted you to, even then. I lost what courage I had. When I spoke with you… I looked for any way out.”
“And instead of killing you, I hired you. Wham-bang, a year later, you tell my brother the truth, he tells you to leave, and you jump ship with ten thousand Guard dollars.” Mel didn’t even try to hide the anger in her voice. She thought back to the day that she’d found the ship’s safe open, her entire savings gone. She thought about the empty place on the ship. She remembered the empty spot in her soul that still remained… the hole caused when someone she’d loved had abandoned and betrayed her.
“I never stole the money,” Marcus said. “That was Rawn’s plan. He said he wouldn’t trust me to stay gone unless you had a real reason to hate me.”
“So, that’s where people stopped trying to do right and started trying to protect me.” Mel sighed. “You should have told me that first day you saw me. He should have come to me right away. Hell, you should have come to me right after telling Rawn!”
He shrugged, slightly. “We both thought you were too good. Neither of us wanted to hurt you like that.”
“So you hurt me like this?” Mel snapped and her hand trembled again in rage. “You turn my brother against the things he believed in? You cause him to keep secrets from me? In that, I hold you responsible for more than the death of my parents. That was work, that was a cause. This,” she gestured with her left hand at the ship, “all this, is your fault.
