Dark Space (14 page)

   “What about removing it?”

   “Impossible,” she said,
shaking her head. “It becomes completely entwined in the host’s system. Any
attempt to forcibly remove it would cause a complete failure of the subject’s
central nervous system.”

   “So,” Hansen began, “when
you said in your report that Santorum already considered himself ‘dead,’ he
wasn’t far off. Once infected … or whatever we choose to call it … there’s no
going back.”

   “At least none we know of,”
Finly finished. “My initial results contain—to be to blunt—a hell of a lot of
conjecture.”

   Shawn studied the diagram
for a moment in silence. “So, somebody stuck this thing inside him and turned
him into some kind of covert operative?”

   Hansen nodded. “That’s our
best guess. And, if that’s true, there could be a lot more infected personnel
just like him.”

   “Some at the very heart of
Sector Command,” Bill Graves chimed in, “or the Unified government.”

  
“So, you can understand when I tell you
that this knowledge is limited to only the people in this room,” Hansen said.
“And they need to keep absolute security over this situation.” He then looked
to Doctor Finly. “The doctor has verified than none of the people present here
are infected, including yourself, Commander. Had you been, you would have never
left the sickbay.”

   Shawn sighed. “Is it the
Meltranians’ doing?”

   All eyes turned to Hansen.
“Honestly, we don’t know. We haven’t had enough exposure to their technology to
say with any certainty.”

   “And what about the Kafarans?”
Shawn asked.

   Hansen shook his head. “No.
At least, we don’t think so. We have more than ample evidence of Kafaran
biology and technology, to say nothing about what they’ve shared with us in the
current war. This would be something that’s just as foreign to them as it is to
us, perhaps even more so.”

   “I still don’t get what you
need from me. I’m out of a job, remember?”

   Bill moved to stand beside
Hansen. “You intercepted a communication that was sent from the
Duchess
to a location in the Concordia system, Vega sector. The planet Torval, to be
precise.”

   Shawn looked to Melissa.
“That’s right. Agent Graves decrypted the destination, but not the content.”

   Hansen nodded. “Then you
will understand when I say that the transport that is waiting for you in the
hangar isn’t going to outpost twenty-two.”

   “Torval?” Shawn asked as
his eyes shifted to the admiral.

   “Exactly,” Hansen nodded.

   “But I thought … I mean … I
was relieved of duty.”

   “And you were, Commander,”
Hansen agreed. “Don’t think for an instant that the court-martial was anything
less than factual.”

   “It had to be,” Bill
amended. “We can’t allow any suspicions to arise. If anyone else in Sector
Command has been infected, we need to know who they are before they make their
respective moves. Getting you off the roster was the best way to ensure you
could make it to Torval unmolested.”

   Shawn then turned to
Melissa. “But, you’re here. Does that mean … you knew?”

   “Not until after the
autopsy of Jerry, but yes, before your trial … I knew.”

   “Then what was with all the
tears and screaming in my quarters?” Shawn asked defensively. “Why the big
show?”

   “Appearances, Shawn,”
Melissa replied. “We can’t trust anyone now. It had to look real, and it had to
look like I was leaving you … and that I needed solitude.”

   Then it dawned on him.
“Because you’re coming with me.”

   She smiled. “Like you’d
have it any other way.”

   “And the reprimand on my
record? And the fact that I’m supposed to be processed out of Sector Command?”

   “All real,” Hansen added.
“The one-week time frame for your discharge from Sector Command takes into
account your current mission. Once it’s completed, I will
personally
make a further determination about your continued service within the
organization. In any case, the reprimand on your record will stay, regardless
of the outcome.”

   “You took things a step too
far, Shawn,” Graves said before Shawn could comment. “There aren’t any good
deeds that are going to erase that fact. However, you do have a chance to
redeem your status on the ship, and regain some of the respect you lost.”

   “And if we don’t succeed?”

   “Then don’t bother coming
back, Commander,” Hansen said. “Your discharge will take effect whether you are
here or not. As for Miss Graves,” he said, turning to face Melissa, “I fully
expect you to return in the allotted time, successful or not. You’re too
valuable a commodity to keep away for too long.”

   For his own part, Bill
Graves was right, and Shawn wasn’t about to argue the fact even if he wanted
to. Whether he agreed with Hansen, on the other hand … well, that was another
story altogether. “So, you want us to chase down whatever is on Torval that
received the transmission?” Shawn asked Hansen.

   “Not in so many words. I’ve
already taken the liberty of dispatching a special forces team to the planet.
Their job is to secure the installation we believed was the recipient of the
transmission Santorum sent out. Your assignment is to link up with them and
bring back anything you can find that will help vet any of Jerry’s
coconspirators.”

   “But I thought you said no
one else could be trusted. Why involve another team?”

   “Because they were already
near the Concordia system, Commander,” Hansen said. “It’s going to take you the
better part of two days to get there, and we needed to jump on the situation
without delay.”

   “Besides,” Bill Graves
began, “they won’t have any facts. Their mission is to secure the installation,
not analyze it.”

   “And if they scare off
whoever received the transmission?” Shawn asked. “What then?”

   “The Seventh Unified
Special Services team has a track record for getting the job done, Commander
Kestrel, whatever the cost,” Hansen said. “If anyone gets in their way, they’ve
been ordered to detain them until you arrive, but will otherwise do no harm.”

   Unconvinced, Shawn looked
back to Hansen. “And the combined fleet?”

   “We’re going to remain here
for the time being. However, we may need to move out at a moment’s notice.”

   Bill then spoke up. “I’ll
provide you a secure channel directly to my stateroom. When you need me, use
it. However, unless it’s an emergency, do not contact me until the mission is
completed.”

   Shawn looked to Bill.
“This’s
not
what I signed on for.”

   Graves nodded, then looked
to his daughter. “I said the same thing myself when my little girl joined the
OSI. Look how that turned out.”

   The two men who loved
Melissa Graves looked at her in unison. She did her best to smile at them both.

   “Well, Angel, it looks like
we’re heading to Torval after all.”

   She smiled. “Looks that
way,
hotshot
.”

   “Then get down to the
hangar, both of you,” Hansen said, then stretched out a hand toward Shawn. The commander
scrutinized it for a moment before taking it in a firm shake. “Safe journeys,
Commander.”

   At a loss, Shawn said the
only thing that popped into his mind. “Thanks.”

%%%

   “I’m just thankful I
already packed,” Shawn said as he and Melissa entered the
Duchess
’s main
hangar. Ahead of them was their transport, a hundred-foot-long bullet-shaped
craft that had flattened sides. Below and aft of the raised-bubble cockpit were
port and starboard engine pods, capable of rotating fully about their axes. The
rear half of the vessel had a container attached to it, clamped into wedge cut
specifically for standard Unified cargo units. The stern contained the two
primary drive engines, placed one over the other. The whole of the vessel was
painted a flat gray, with light gray stripes on the sides extending fore to
aft. It was pretty enough, Shawn decided—if you liked military streamlining. It
would never replace his beloved
Sylvia’s Delight
, but then again, that
wasn’t its intent.  

   “The launch has already
been delayed a few minutes by our late arrival,” Melissa said as she increased
her pace. “Let’s just hope Captain Ramos and the others haven’t become
suspicious.”

   “You’re really serious
about this whole not-trusting-anyone thing, aren’t you?”

   “Shawn, this is big … bigger
than anything you and I ever thought it was. If this is part of the larger
cover-up we discovered about Second Earth and the Project Windstorm weapon, we
could be sitting on a powder keg ready to explode at any minute.”

   While her analogy seemed
overly dramatic, something in it had a hint of sanity. A voice calling Shawn
from across the bay caught their attention. It was Trent.

   “He doesn’t know anything
about this, Shawn,” Melissa said in a hurried whisper. “Keep it that way.”

   “But what about the
shuttle’s pilots?” Shawn asked as he nodded to the waiting transport. “What
about them?”

   “There aren’t any pilots,”
she shot back quickly.

   Shawn was about to reply
when Trent rushed toward them. 

   “Hey, man. I heard you’re
leaving,” Trent said through deep breaths.

   “Yeah, pal. Sorry about the
short notice.”

   “You know, I’m really sorry
about everything,” Trent offered with more sincerity than Shawn had heard from
the man in ages. “What the hell am I going to do around here without you?”

   Shawn patted him on the cheek.
“I’m sure you’ll manage.” Then he headed toward the waiting transport.

   “I’ll manage, he says,”
Trent replied, catching up and blocking his path. “I joined this rag because of
you, and now you’re getting booted out. At least take me with you.”

   “No can-do, buddy. You
don’t want to go where I’m headed.”

   “You’re going back to
Minos, am I right?”

   “I haven’t decided. But,
rest assured that as soon as I get to wherever I’m going, I’ll let you know I
got there okay.” Shawn sidestepped him and headed up the ramp into the
transport’s innards.

   “Great, man! That’s just
great!” Trent yelled in protest after him. “This is all your fault!”

   “You said ‘yes’ just like I
did when they offered to reinstate our commissions,” Shawn called over his
shoulder, then turned around. “Take care of yourself, buddy.”

   “Yeah, sure,” Trent said in
defeat.

   Smiling despite himself,
Shawn looked at his friend lovingly. “Do me one last favor, pal?”

   “Yeah, what’s that?”

   “Clarissa McAllister.”

   Trent smiled wryly at the
mention of his girlfriend’s name. “What about her?”

   Shawn grinned down at Trent
as the ramp began to close. “Put a ring on that finger before it’s too late.
And make sure you send me an invite.”

   “Will do,” Trent replied
just as the hatch closed and sealed itself. “See ya ’round, Skipper.”

   In the comfortable cockpit
of the transport, Shawn took the pilot’s chair as Melissa strapped herself into
the copilot position. Reaching for the intercom, she keyed in the sequence to
the flight control officer’s station on the bridge.

   “Control, this is Transport
Echo-One, requesting clearance for departure.”

   A second later, Commander
Weberity’s voice came over the cockpit’s speakers. “Confirmed, Echo-One. Took
you long enough to get on board. Was there a problem with your passengers?”

   She gave Shawn a worried
expression. “No problem, control,” she replied. “Commander Kestrel forgot his
lucky toothbrush.”

   A brief laugh came over the
speakers before Weberity came back online. “Understood, Echo-One. Stand by for
final launch authorization.”

   “Standing by,” she said,
then muted the channel.

   Shawn reached down and
turned on the navigational computer. On the display was their current position,
and the proximity of the jump gate. It was behind the carrier now, about three hundred
miles away. “Coordinates for the jump gate locked in,” he whispered to Melissa,
fearful that if his voice was heard over the intercom it would be recognized.

   Commander Weberity came
over the airwaves a moment later. “Echo-One, this is control. You are cleared
for departure.”

   “Roger,” Melissa said, then
turned on the automated launch system. The transport lifted itself free of the
hangar floor, then oriented itself at the now-open launch bay doors. The
primary engines on the stern began to light off, while the secondary
engines—inside their movable pods—were at station keeping and pointing down. A
moment later, the accelerators of the catapult launched the sleek vessel out
into open space.