Fatal Boarding (18 page)

The team stood around me, wearing hands-free
headsets and black jump suits loaded down with the requested
assortment of weaponry. Because we had no idea what we were
fighting, we were bringing almost everything, including a CO2 wand,
a chem-spray gun, and a small flame thrower that I prayed would not
be needed.

The shipboard options were depressing. To
conceal the fact that we had intruders on board meant leaving the
crew unaware of the danger. But, to release that information would
certainly alert the invaders. I shuddered at the thought of what
they might do then. More than anything, we needed information about
the enemy.

To my dismay, the number of onlookers around
us was slowly growing. Those that did not understand what was
transpiring continually searched our faces as the snapshot scans
played out at fifteen second intervals.

Nira had immersed herself completely in the
task. Within minutes of the first scan, she had isolated three
separate categories of life signs. Most were human, though twelve
of those were faded. Five other signs were entirely unique, dense,
compact signatures like nothing we had never seen. She worked the
scanned data relentlessly.

"Here's a good spot, Adrian. It's deck two,
compartment EEE. Two unique signatures and eight others that are
attenuated. Compartment EEE, what is that?" She leaned over to her
right and checked the floor plan on the next display. "Wow, that's
definitely unusual. That's a cable drop area. No one should be in
there." She turned in her seat and looked up at me. "All the other
uniques are on the lower levels. They're constantly on the move.
These two are busy at something in EEE. It's your best shot. I
don't think they're aware of us at all. If they wanted to sabotage
us, at least one of them would be heading for the central cable
transit to tap into the array controllers. They don't seem
concerned at all."

We checked over our weapons and hurried
along the fastest, most inconspicuous route to level 2. We raced
through the dim, narrow corridors through several storage areas,
and within minutes took positions outside compartment EEE. The oval
hatch was closed. We hoped to catch them off guard, stun them if
possible, and then take them down quickly to minimize the chance
they might alert their friends.

With three fingers, I counted down to zero
and hit the open key by the door. Nothing. The lockout was
expected. I opened the access panel and punched in the Ex/O
wildcard code. The door slid aside.

The team members station farther back waved
off, nothing to see from their position. I dared a quick look
around the corner, saw an empty section of compartment and yanked
myself back away.

"Nira, there's no one home!"

"They're there, Adrian. They've stopped
moving, but they are there!"

I motioned to the team member on the
opposite side of the door. "Perk, flash-bang them."

He unsnapped the grenade from his vest,
popped the pin and tossed it inside. We pulled back and braced. The
grenade had almost no delay. It made a hell of a thu-whump and lit
up the corridor like a welder's torch. Concussion belched from the
open door and rippled the straps on our suits.

I dared another look. Nothing.

Nira cut in on the intercom. "Adrian, one
has moved into the hall with you! It's at the far end already,
turning the corner!"

We all looked. There was nothing to see.

"The other one is still inside. It's not
moving."

I pushed away from the wall and stepped into
the compartment. Crouched and pivoting, with weapon raised, I found
no intruder. To the right of the door, in the corner, a neat line
of degraded glazed human bodies lying in the embryo position were
tightly packed together. I turned and continued to search the room.
Perk came up alongside.

"Nira, there are no uniques here!"

"It is there, Adrian. Directly in front of
you, near the bulkhead."

"There are two of us in here who don't see a
damned thing! It must be sensor ghosts,"

"No! There other one is still moving away.
It must be hurt. It circles sometimes and stops frequently. It's
confused. Fifteen feet ahead of you. There's one there. It's still
not moving."

We inched ahead until we were five feet from
the bulkhead.

"It's right in front of you, Adrian!"

"Perk, freeze this area."

Perk let his weapon hang by the strap, and
unhooked the CO2 wand from behind his back. He charged the tip and
began spraying down the area with a white cloud of frozen gas.

For a few seconds, there was nothing.
Slowly, a small, frosty form sprawled on the floor came into view,
humanoid, maybe four feet tall. It had on a body suit with ridges
running beneath the surface. A thin hood and a visor pulled back
from the head. On the left sleeve, the outline of a control set.
The opposite hand clutched a small cone-shaped device that looked
like a weapon.

Perk shut off the frost and we stood and
stared. He looked at me with disbelief. "The god-damned things are
invisible!"

I knelt and twisted at the control panel on
the creature's sleeve. It came off in my hand. Instantly, the form
changed. It solidified and became detailed; coal black body suit,
short black boots, gloves that were part of the sleeves, hideously
wrinkled face, pointed nose. Its lips did not close all the way to
conceal the yellow spiked teeth in the mouth; cat's eyes, frozen
open in a soulless stare.

It looked dead, but we took no chances. With
the rest of the team looking on, we fastened the hands and feet
tightly with plastic wraps.

I was about to take two of the team and go
after the wounded one, when Nira began cursing over the intercom.
"Hey guys, the readout's late! I'm not getting anything. Oh shit!
Shit! Shit! The scanning array is down. We must have run it too
long. It's overheated! It went into auto shut down."

I cursed under my breath. "How long until
it's back up?"

"At least an hour, probably longer."

The assemblage of mutating humans on the
opposite side of the room lay waiting. They were on their sides,
wrapped in the same opaque layer that had enveloped Tolson. Several
were in an advanced state of transformation, barely visible within
the egg. Others were still in the early stage, the vision of terror
locked on their faces still clearly visible.

As discreetly as possible, we borrowed a
body bag from sickbay, and asked the Doctor to meet us in Life
Sciences. We packaged the tiny body and slung it over Perk's
shoulder. Somehow, we made it down the hall undetected, but when
the elevator door opened, I had to evict two startled crewman. They
stood outside the elevator, staring at the body bag, trying to
reassure themselves it was not what they thought. I nodded politely
as the doors shut.

When we reached Life Sciences, a small crowd
was already there. Word had spread. We wound our way around the
laboratory to an isolation booth that was open and prepared to
receive us. Perk slung the body down on the angled, dull-silver
aluminum table and quickly withdrew, looking glad to be rid of it.
I glanced around to find Brandon, Nira, and several others, their
faces pressed close to the window, staring as though the nightmare
had suddenly become too real.

Doctor Pacell pushed his way into the booth.
He looked down at the unopened bag, and then at me. "Is it
dead?"

"How do I tell? I think so."

He shook his head, went to the table and
began unzipping the bag. I raised my weapon.

He stopped, looked back at me, and gave a
sarcastic laugh. "Do you think if it was going to attack us it
would be playing dead in a body bag?"

I returned a childish, pitiful look, and
stood up straight, lowering the weapon only as much as seemed
necessary to give the illusion of at-ease. The faces at the window
peered supportively over my shoulder. The Doctor again shook his
head and went to work.

We cleared the lab of all nonessential
personnel, and sealed the entrance. Guards were posted with orders
to shoot if the doors opened with no one there. We formed three
separate tiger teams; one to examine the body, another to study the
hand-held device, and a third to analyze the suit. I did not stay
for the entire autopsy. When the little man had been dissected
enough that he was clearly no longer a threat, I retreated to the
emptiness of the adjoining Life Sciences meeting room. R.J.
followed close behind.

The large data monitor on the wall had been
left on. It was stepping through pictures and data-updates on the
alien. I stood by the oval gray meeting table and began undoing the
combat accessories attached to my uniform. R.J. took a seat at the
table in front of me and leaned back nervously.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"About what?"

"The situation."

"How the hell do I know? I didn't volunteer
for this crap!"

"Granted, but you inherited it,
nonetheless."

"Like hell! I was supposed to be acting
second-in-command of a structured, disciplined organization, not
captain of the Titanic. If you wait until the bomb's about to go
off before you hand it off to someone, don't expect them to disarm
it."

"But you're in charge!"

"Of what? No one's got control of anything
here! We are way out of our league! We can't even get close to
these bastards without forgetting who we are!"

"But you just killed one!"

"We got real lucky. They didn't know they
had been discovered. From here on out, they'll be ready. Who knows
what the hell they'll do now."

"Well, what are you going to do Adrian,
abandon the others and worry about yourself?"

"God, it's a tempting idea."

"Adrian, I don't believe you! I've never
seen you like this! On occasion you do some pretty unorthodox
things, but never have you turned your back on friends, especially
friends in need! What has gotten into you?"

"Good sense?"

"It's never stopped you before. You could at
least get the others together and see what they think. I don't get
it. You've always been the weasel. You slip out of the damnedest
things. It's like a God-given talent. Don't you have any
ideas?"

"Just one. But I sure don't like where it
will take us."

"Could it be any worse than where we
are?"

I looked at him with reluctant sympathy and
knew he was right. With R.J. continuing to act as my conscious I
gave in to guilt, and using the distrust-worthy com system, offered
the department heads and bridge officers an emergency staff meeting
in Life Sciences they would never forget.

Chapter 20

The human tendency to panic has always
confounded me. Not only does it seem to command the authority to
override all other instincts, it does so with no plan whatsoever.
It comes available in both the individual or group forms. In its
natural state, it lightly discards the human-thought process, and
takes immediate and complete control of all bodily functions, some
of which are completely inappropriate for the moment. It is an
impulse almost certainly reminiscent of some Neanderthal
programming that has remained resident in the brainstem of the
human unconsciousness.

Whenever the mind reasons that mortal danger
is imminent, and no logical alternatives are apparent, panic steps
in on override and instantly switches on every appendage still
functioning. The process usually results in a badly choreographed
dance of groping, lunging, twisting, kicking, and grappling
intended to quickly dispose of, or displace the threat, even if it
cannot be seen. If you happen to be near a person who has elected
to participate in this ancient ritual, you automatically become
eligible for an unimaginable assortment of personal injuries.

The only time I can ever remember having
truly experienced it was during pilot training. You are required to
make several parachute jumps. The reasoning is that after investing
so much time and effort training you, the people in charge would
like to know you would have the foresight to pull the emergency
chute in the event there is an ejection malfunction.

So, on that very first jump, panic is
eagerly waiting backstage. And, no matter how many times you
mentally rehearse it, you step out into the freefall and your legs
take off running for dear life, continuing all the way down until
the pop of the chute jerks them to a stop.

Group panic astonishes me even more. It is a
kind of emotional spontaneous combustion. It can begin as a small
candle flame of paranoia and build quickly within a crowd until it
flashes over into mass hysteria. Throughout the crisis, each
participant is continually reassured by the others that panicking
is indeed the appropriate response to the problem. Many people in
positions of authority entertain the false belief that they are
above such shortcomings. They underestimate the infectiousness of
the disease. They have been so protected from danger for so long
that they forget what a persuasive stranger it is.

I had invited all the perfect ingredients
for panic to my hastily-arranged staff meeting in Life Sciences.
They made up the most educated, sophisticated mob I have ever seen.
Even more disturbing, only two-thirds of them showed up. There was
no time to wonder about the others. Many of them were still dressed
in duty uniforms as though they had expected to be called to the
bridge at any moment. Others were in casual dress, not having had
time to change. They listened in silent despair, hoping there would
be a big finish that rectified all. They sat with so rigid a
posture it almost seemed they were holding their breath.

I did my best to explain our unenviable
situation, and how it had come about. The volatile silence lasted
for as long as they could bear, and before I could begin laying out
our best course of action, the eruption of absurd debate began.