The Madness Engine Page 6

  "That's right," the commando replied. "We'll be needing passage back to Steinway. When do we leave?"

  Rachael holstered her useless pistol and gestured angrily to the others to do the same. A coilgun would be like a gnat bite to someone in that armor. "We're finishing up repairs. We should be able to leave tomorrow morning."

  "Very good," Harris said. She holstered her pistol and removed her helmet. She looked as if she'd worn it for days. "My companion needs medical attention. Do you have a medical officer?"

  Rachael snorted. "We're just a merchant ship, lady. We've got a crew of four, counting the MI. We've got a coldsleep chamber and a few medical nanopacks; that's about it. You don't like it, find another ship."

  "Yours will have to do," said Harris.

  "Francesca, restore power to this section. Marty, you'd better get back to work on those nodes."

  "Captain?" Rachael's co-pilot looked anxious.

  "Yes, Nancy?"

  "What about that contract?"

  "Looks like we miss out on another one," Rachael said with a sigh. "See our guest to the medical bay, will you?"

  Θ

  The last of the ferals ran away, and Drake didn't feel like hunting them down. He was mildly sickened by the carnage, which felt odd to him. He'd always enjoyed battle in the past; he remembered that much. Maybe it was because there had been no challenge for him. The ferals had never had a chance of hurting him. He didn't like hurting beasts – even beasts that once been people.

  A low moan brought his attention back the people he'd come to help.

  "It's okay," Drake said. "I won't hurt you."

  "Who are you?" The man's voice had a slightly hysterical edge to it.

  "No one of consequence. May I help your companions?"

  "I think you already have," the man said, lowering his knife. He slowly sank to his knees next to his friends.

  "Let me take a look," said Drake. He knelt down next to the woman and checked her pulse. It was rapid but weak. She had a head wound that looked worse than it probably was. She moaned as he checked for broken bones. The other man lay still in the dust, and Drake knew before he checked that this man was going to die. He was pale and breathing shallowly. His skull was fractured, and given the medical technology available, he wouldn't survive long.

  If he hadn't hesitated...

  "How are they?" the other man asked.

  Drake shook himself out of his thoughts. "The woman has a concussion and a few broken ribs. I think her left arm may be broken as well. I think she'll be all right. The man is going to die."

  "His name is Robert. Damn it, he was our doctor. I'm Tom, and this is my wife, Mary. Thank you for saving us. We owe you our lives."

  "My name is Drake. What were you three doing here? It isn't safe in the cities."

  "We live to the north – we're part of the Madoc Hill clan. Six of our people have come down with the hemorrhagic fever. We were seeking medicine."

  "There isn't a cure," Drake replied. "The best thing you could do for them would be to kill them before it hits the tertiary stage."

  "How can you say that so calmly? One of those sick is my son!"

  "I'm sorry for your loss," Drake said, standing up. "Fort Mountain is many kilometers from here. You're going to have a hard time getting your wife back to the settlement before dark-fall. Trust me, you don't want to here when the night comes."

  "What about Robert?"

  "He'll die." Drake shrugged. "I think most people do. Go home, give mercy to your son, and try not to think about what would have happened to you here if I hadn't been near."

  "Please," Tom sobbed. "It's my son! There could be a cure here."

  "A cure? And how could you have a son?"

  "He survived the war with me. Now he has that damn virus!"

  "Hmm. And you think there is a cure here?"

  "Yes!"

  "Why do you think so?" Drake asked.

  "The CDC was based out of Atlanta – the Center for Disease Control! They had labs here that studied deadly diseases and found cures for them. We're close to where they were. Look!" Tom pulled a ragged map out of his coat pocket. "See? Right there!"

  "Even if you could find it, how would you know if they had anything that would help?"

  "Mary was an immunologist, before the war. She used to work at the CDC."

  Drake frowned and looked at the sky. There was less than two hours of daylight left. One thing was certain: the people he had just saved would be dead before dawn if he left them here. Why save them at all, if he was going to abandon them at this point?

  "Okay, I'll help you. But –" he held up a finger to stop the man's thanks "– I want you to promise that if you find a cure, you'll dedicate your life to making sure it gets to everyone with the disease."

  "I swear on my son's life," the man replied without hesitation.

  "I'll hold you to that," Drake said seriously. "Now, can you walk?"

  "I think so, but what about Robert?"

  "He's going to die. You cannot help him."

  "I know that, but we can't just leave him here."

  "You want to take him with us?"

  "No… I was hoping that you would…"

  "What? Kill him for you?"

  Tom flinched, but met Drake's eyes. "If we leave him, the ferals will get him."

  Drake sighed. "All right."

  "He'll need a Christian burial, too."

  "Out of curiosity, what makes a burial Christian? Is it any different from any other burial? Are you a Christian?"

  "Yes, I am. He just needs to be buried and a few words said over him."

  "I think, under the circumstances, a rubble cairn will to have to do. Unless you have a shovel in your bag there."

  "A cairn will be fine. Will you help?"

  "Yes, but don't expect me to say any words. I'm not a Christian, and I don't have any words that would be appropriate, anyway."

  "I'll take care of that."

  "Fine." Drake moved off to collect material for the cairn.

  Θ

  Tebrey awoke to the growing feeling of alienness in his mind, and knew that the Other was aware he was in the base. There was sense of growing anticipation that he didn't like. The Other was pleased he was here. It wanted him.

  He didn't think it wanted to have a chat.

  Alessa, you might want to tell the captain to be ready. I think something is happening.

  She says we are standing by.

  An almost imperceptible tremor shook the floor, followed by the scream of a klaxon.

  Tell her to jump now! Tebrey sent. And open that door!

  We're jumping in now.

  Did you have the armory make me a suit?

  Yes, Commander. One level up. I've marked the location on your map.

  Thanks, Alessa.

  Tebrey moved fast when the door opened. The guard outside was just raising his rifle when Tebrey's elbow caught him in the face and smashed his head back against the bulkhead hard enough to make a noise like a dropped melon. The man fell bonelessly to the floor, and Tebrey stripped him of his laser rifle and ran for the elevator.

  On the level above, Tebrey burned down the two marines guarding the armory before they could fire. So far, his luck was still with him. Except for whatever the Other was up to. He hadn't planned for it to try to get to him, but he could feel it doing exactly that. It was coming for him.

  The armor waiting for him in the armory wasn't as good as Concord armor, but at least it was armor he was familiar with. He immediately felt better as the commando suit closed around him. A quick search of the armory provided him with a positron pistol and plasma rifle, his usual arms.

  A quick query to the base computer told him that the man who had interrogated him, a Lt. Commander Mitchell, was not far from his current location. He had made that man a promise; it was promise he intended to keep.

  He pressed down the chime to enter Mitchell's quarters and held it, carefully shielding his mind.

  "Yes? Y
es, come in." The man sounded irritated.

  Tebrey entered the room. Mitchell was sitting at a desk, reading files from an air screen. He looked completely at ease and unconcerned. Tebrey supposed people wore armor around the base often. Good to know.

  "Yes?"

  Tebrey walked around the desk and took off his helmet.

  It took the man a moment to recognize him. His head caved in a moment later as Tebrey smashed his helmet against it with all his strength. Mitchell's corpse was flung from the chair to splatter against the wall.

  "Told you I'd kill you."

  Commander Tebrey? There seems to be something happening in orbit.

  He put his helmet back on. What do you mean, Alessa? Patch my suit through to the captain.

  "Commander Tebrey?"

  "Captain, good to hear your voice again. What's happening?"

  "The Federation ships are moving away from the planet."

  "That can't be good."

  "I hope you're deep enough, Commander, because I think they're planning to open fire on the base, and we can't get there in time to stop it."

  "Of course they are," Tebrey muttered.

  "Commander?"

  "Nothing, Captain. Just be ready to come and get me when I signal."

  "We'll be ready. Good luck, Commander."

  Tebrey was running along the corridor when the base collapsed onto him.

  Chapter Eight

  The CSS Vigilant transited into the TZ Arietis system well outside hyperlimit for the cold red dwarf star that ruled the sparse system. The ship was in full stealth mode, with most of its non-essential systems powered down, including weapons. It was unlikely that any Federation ships could have detected the Vigilant, but in war, one didn't make assumptions about the enemy.

  "Well, Chief?" asked Captain Josephine Maxwell after a few tense minutes.

  The only planet in the system – really the only object at all, other than the star – was two light-minutes from TZ Arietis itself, almost twenty light minutes from their current position. The planet was the slagged iron core of what had probably once been a terrestrial type world, now tidal-locked with the star, and cold. The stolen intelligence data said there was a bioweapons lab on the rock. Maxwell didn't know why Fleet Command was so interested in a bioweapons laboratory, and wasn't sure she wanted to know.

  "Nothing yet, Captain. I've got no drive signatures on passive trace. I think they all jumped out. Do you want me to do a full sensor sweep?"

  "Alessa, have you been able to reach Commander Tebrey?"

  "Yes, Captain. Would you like me to patch him through?"

  "Please."

  "Hello, Captain." The commander sounded worn out.

  "What is your status, Commander?"

  "I'm currently digging myself out from under twenty-seven levels of collapsed plascrete."

  "Twenty-five, commander," Alessa corrected.

  "Thanks, that makes a big difference."

  "We think the Federation ships have pulled out of the system. Would that follow standard protocol?"

  "To my knowledge, yes," Tebrey replied. "I think they cut their losses when the Other tried to break free."

  "Is the mission a success? Is it dead?" asked Maxwell.

  "No, Captain. It's still alive."

  "Are you sure, Commander?" Alessa asked. "I can no longer read internal sensors, but the base was hit with several nuclear warheads."

  "It's alive. Trust me on that. Alive and pissed off."

  "What would you like us to do?"

  "Just be ready to come and get me, Captain."

  "You're continuing the mission?"

  "I didn't let myself be captured so I could fail. I plan to finish this. I need to finish this."

  "Admiral Shadovsky made it clear it was your call, but I don't like this. That star could flare again at any time; we'll need to be gone before then."

  "Alessa, any guess as to how long we have?"

  "It's been three hours since the last stellar flare event. We're due for another flare in less time than that. The magnetometers are already reading off the charts. Are you sure you don't want us to get you and come back later?"

  TZ Arietis was a highly-magnetic variable star with a periodicity ranging from days to hours. The Vigilant had been watching the system for days, hoping for a lull, but the flares had been regular and showed no signs of tapering off. Normally a cruiser such as the Vigilant wouldn't be affected by stellar flares, but the flares from this star were millions of times more powerful than most others. If the ship was caught in one, the crew would be dead before the ship could jump to safety.

  "No, Alessa, I need to get this over with as soon as possible. How much time do we have?"

  "Two to three hours."

  "Captain? Have a shuttle on the surface in two hours."

  Captain Maxwell sighed and nodded to her pilot. "Take us in, Lt. Desmond. Chief Lisle? Do that sensor sweep. Let me know if you see anything larger than a grain of dust. I don't want to run into a graser mine. We can't afford to get stuck here when the star flares."

  The iron planetoid grew larger on the display, but there was no activity on the sensors; the system seemed dead.

  "Commander, if Arietis flares, we're going to have to exit the system fast. We're not going to have time to get you back aboard."

  "You couldn't park in the shadow of the planet?"

  "I don't think so. XO?"

  "No way, Captain. That lumpy ball of iron out there is directly tied into the star's magnetosphere. Flare emissions are going to flow right around it. At this range, it would be like hitting the ship with a moon-sized neutron cannon," Lt. Commander Mike Ferguson replied with certainty. "We'd never survive a strike like that."

  "You're right, we can't risk it, then," Tebrey said. "Maybe you should just head back out to jump range. The flare should last for how long?"

  Captain Maxwell had been afraid he'd suggest something like this. "About four to five hours."

  "Okay, so come back and get me in nine hours. I should have completed my mission my then."

  "Commander," Maxwell began.

  "I know what you're going to say, Captain, and no. Thank you, but no. I can't risk any other personnel on this mission. You've read the admiral's orders."

  "And if you aren't back in nine hours?"

  "I'll be back, Captain," he said.

  "But what if you aren't?" she insisted, stubborn.

  "Then hit the base with everything you've got, and run. Run fast."

  Θ

  When Geoffrey returned the next morning to the armory, he was disappointed that Lieutenant K'Liva wasn't there to meet him.

  "When is she due back?" he asked the young man at the security checkpoint. "I was due to be fitted for armor, and I'm supposed to pick out weapons."

  "Mr. Meeks?"

  Geoffrey looked up. A dark-haired young man had just come out of the security office. The man held out his hand.

  "I'm Lieutenant Johan Riksen. Lieutenant K'Liva won't be on for another eight hours. She's working third shift this week."

  "Third shift?"

  "We work six hour shifts. I came on at oh-six-hundred. The admiral told me to expect you this morning. If you'll just check in," he said, indicating the security scanner, "we can get started."

  "Is it really necessary to go through that every time?" Geoffrey asked, rubbing his thumb as they walked back to the armory.

  "As you may know, some of the enemy have the ability to shapeshift. The genetic scan is the only fast, conclusive way we have to prove that you are who you say you are."

  "It just seems like there should be a better way," Geoffrey grumbled.

  "One that was less... invasive, you mean? I understand. It isn't something you really get used to, I'm afraid."

  "Great. Thanks for that. That makes me feel so much better."

  Riksen laughed. "No problem." He opened the doors to the armory and led Geoffrey to the back of the room. A gleaming suit of powered armor stood racked on t
he wall next to the scanner. "As you can see," Riksen began, "there have been significant modifications to our basic commando suit. These features are currently unique to our Archangel unit."

  "Ah, not to sound ungrateful or ignorant, but I have no idea what you're talking about. I've only seen powered armor a few times."

  "Right. Sorry, I forgot you aren't military. You've seen the marine guards in bulky armor at various locations in the ship?"

  "Yeah."

  "Those are first-generation suits. They use reflex plastics and thick layers of beryllium steel. It works, but there are better ways to do it. These new suits use carbon nanotube bundles to simulate muscle fibers. They're stronger and more responsive than the older suits. We've also incorporated a layer of PIN, a platinum alloy, into the outer layer of beryllium steel. Not only does it make the armor more damage resistant, it also acts as a low-level psionic amplifier."

  "Wouldn't that mean that a psionic attack from a Theta would be worse?" Geoffrey asked.

  "It would if the amplification was unidirectional. As it is, the amplification is mono-directional, directed away from you. This will amplify your body's natural psionic defenses."

  "I don't think I have any psionic defenses. The admiral mentioned something about me having a potential," Geoffrey said, shrugging, "but I have no clue what he was talking about."

  "Everybody has some latent potential. Think of it this way: Your body has a bio-electrical field, right?"

  "I suppose."

  "Okay, consider that the field acts as a defensive shield versus ambient psionic impulses. Those impulses are actually just micro-currents in the quasi-material layer of hyperspace that is most adjacent to us."

  Geoffrey sighed. "I have no idea what any of that means, but I'll take your word for it. It works. What do I have to do now?"

  Riksen called up an air screen and rapidly typed something into it. "Okay, the suit is primed. The reactor is online. Just open your datalink and activate the armor."

  "How do I do that?"

  "You know how to activate the datalink, right?"

  "Yeah, I know how to do that. What do I do then?"

  "There should be a blinking cursor in your field of view, probably on your right."