Point of Origin (War Eternal Book 4) (14 page)

"Drugs?"

"Yeah, like the sleeping pills you gave me. I used one the second day in hyperspace. I know Major Long is on some kind of upper, too. Or at least he was."

"That's no problem. The database we snagged has all of the known narcotics listed, as well as possible alterations in body chemistry."

"What about unknown narcotics? Long's concoction was classified by the Alliance."

Jameson and Digger looked at one another.
 

"That may pose a problem," Jameson said.
 

"Not in this case," Digger replied. "We already know about Major Long's situation. We can rule him out."

"What if he's a Tetron?" Jameson asked.

"If you can't identify someone with one hundred percent certainty, we can't assume they are," Mitchell said. "If you know your history, you know that's a bad idea and the reason I was against this in the first place."

"Yes, sir," Jameson said. "We'll be as sure as we can before we come to you. We definitely won't cast suspicion on anyone without your order."

"I don't want you looking at people funny when you cross them in the hallways."

Digger laughed. "I already do that. I don't think they'll notice the difference."

"I also don't want you talking about any of this with the rest of the crew. They're bound to come to you to ask about themselves or others, or raise their suspicions based on nothing but their biases."

"It's all between you and me and Jameson," Digger said. "Well, and Aiko now."

Aiko held out her arm. "Do you want a sample?"

Jameson went back to get a fresh vial.

"Do we have enough of those for the whole crew?" Mitchell asked, pointing at the empty glass cylinder.

"If the Carver were operating at full strength, no. We have enough for the people currently on board."

Jameson put the extractor against Aiko's arm. A soft hiss and the vial filled with her blood. He popped it out, capping it and labeling it.
 

"What about you, Colonel?" he asked.

Mitchell stuck out his arm. "How do I know one of you two isn't a Tetron, and this isn't an elaborate setup to get my DNA so you can make a configuration of me?"

Jameson and Digger both froze, looking at each other.

"Shit. I never even thought of that," Digger said.

"Yes. I mean, it is possible," Jameson agreed.

Mitchell had meant it as a joke. He wiggled his arm. "Just take it. Like I said, we can't walk around worrying about whether someone is a Tetron or not. If we go extinct because we trust one another too much, I can live with that."

"Or die with that," Aiko said.

"A more accurate assessment," Mitchel said, speaking like her.

"Okay," Jameson said. "Don't say you didn't warn yourself."

He put the extractor against Mitchell's arm. Mitchell didn't feel anything as the blood was pulled out, the vial capped and labeled.

"We're going to the mess to get some lunch," Mitchell said. "Are you two interested?"

"Ugh," Digger said. "That shit turns my stomach. I've got my own supply of homemade MREs in my bunk."

"What about you, Jameson?" Aiko asked.

"Not right now, thanks. I want to run these samples."

"Let me know if you find anything strange," Mitchell said.

"Absolutely."

Kathy leaned out into the corridor, letting her eyes adjust to the pulsing light of Watson's Secondary. Three days had passed since she had fled the bioscience lab. Three days of running and hiding, of watching her back at every turn, of having no peace from the Tetron's machines.

She had underestimated the ferocity of his anger.
 

He had underestimated her.

She had managed to avoid the machines most of the time, and defeat them when she was forced to fight back. She had disabled the Riggers that Watson sent for her rather than kill them, though she never saw the same one twice. In the back of her mind, she wondered if the Tetron was terminating them for his failure.

It wasn't their fault he was no match for her in guerrilla warfare.

Even so, the three days had left her little peace to finish her work soldering the neural chip. She was still moving around through the belly of the Goliath with her pockets full of equipment and magazines for the rifle, leaving them bulging out and making a clanking noise if she didn't step right. She didn't like traveling that way, but she needed the tools.

She wasn't sure where she was going. Over the days, she had probably covered two-thirds of the ship, nearly every level from bow to stern, likely close to forty or fifty kilometers worth of corridors in all. She was fortunate she didn't tire, and that her body had taken care of the wound to her leg. She was unfortunate because part of her was still human, and she needed to eat and drink. It had led her to areas of the starship where Watson had laid traps for her, waiting to fulfill those basic requirements. She had been forced to fight for every bar and every water bottle she had claimed.

She entered the corridor, moving down the side close to the axon and at the same time careful not to touch it. She was near the exact center of the Goliath now, buried deep in the hull. There wasn't much down here. Access tunnels and storage and little else. It was a good hiding place because there would be nothing she needed in this area. It was a bad place to stop for the same reason.

She reached the end of the corridor, turning left into an adjoining hallway. The axons were here as well, pulsing along the sides of the floor and vanishing through a sealed hole to the level below her. She looked up, finding a ridge in the ceiling where a support beam had been placed. A small ledge was barely visible in the dim, flashing light.

Kathy slung her assault rifle over her back, bent her legs, and jumped. She went higher than a girl of her size and age should have been able to, reaching ten feet above her to the ledge and quickly pulling herself up. She barely fit in the space, having to keep her head ducked down, and her back bent slightly. She didn't care. What she needed more than anything was time.

She pulled her stained gray shirt up to her breasts, exposing an expanse of pale flesh. Then she moved the goggles down from her forehead to her eyes, reaching into her pocket to take each item and place it on her stomach. It was easier to see against her skin than it would have been on the mottled gray.
 

She leaned over herself, curling in as far as her muscles would allow, getting as close to the chip with the goggles as she could. She traced the top side of the chip with her eyes, seeking the connector between the human side and the Tetron side. She found it in the bottom corner, mentally marking the spot.
 

She took the piece of wire and touched it against the circuit. Then she grabbed the laser pointer and turned it on, careful with her aim. She had already altered it to emit a beam strong enough to burn or melt. It would only be good for one use before the batteries failed.

She held the wire against the circuit with impossible precision and stillness while she aimed the laser pointer. She pressed the button to trigger it, hoping she hadn't over calibrated. If she had made the beam too strong, it would destroy the chip and burn right through her skin.

It didn't. Instead, a small wisp of smoke rose from the edge, and the wire melted against the circuit. She smiled, pleased with herself, before putting the laser back in her pocket and removing a small connecting needle to splice to the opposite end.

She started to strip end opposite end of the wire when something grabbed her leg.

Kathy's instinct was to scream. She refused it. Instead, she kicked out with her free foot at whatever it was, feeling her heel strike something hard. The machine tipped away from the wall, still gripping her, its weight enough to pull her roughly from the perch. The chip fell from her hand.

She hit the ground on top of the machine feeling stupid for losing track of her surroundings. She had been too focused on getting the solder done. She quickly squirmed in its grip, freeing her leg and making it to her feet. She was in the middle of unslinging the rifle when she heard the click of a trigger being depressed. She dropped her feet out from under her just in time, the bullets whizzing past her head, one of them grazing the braid in her hair as it rose behind her.

She landed on her stomach, rolling away as the shooter adjusted their aim, bullets digging into the ground where she had fallen and hitting the machine that still had her ankle in its grip. The damage loosened synthetic muscles, setting her free, and she crouched tight against the wall, leaving her assailant a bad angle into the hallway.

The neural chip. Kathy scanned the floor for it, finding it on the opposite side, underneath the axon. There was no time for thinking. She rolled across the open corridor, drawing fire that smacked the metal floor only centimeters away. She grabbed the chip, the back of her hand smacking against the axon.

Her eyes filled with swirling color. Her hand went numb and cold. Behind it, she sensed something she hadn't expected. Something familiar.
 

She cried out.

"Touch me again," the shooter said. "I like it. Or come up to the bridge and you can touch me somewhere else. I'll like that more."

Kathy fell onto her back, her vision still broken from the energy that had coursed through her. She needed to get out of the line of fire. She needed to run. She turned herself over, trying to stumble to her feet.

She felt the heat of a warm muzzle against the back of her head.
 

"Got ya," Alice said.

Kathy blinked, trying to clear her eyes. A hand grabbed her from behind, throwing her into the wall.
 

"Give me the frigging chip," Alice said, her larger hand forcing its way into Kathy's closed fist and ripping the chip from her.

"Why don't you shoot me?" Kathy asked. Her voice was calm. She focused herself on getting her eyes back.

"What fun would that be?"

"Fun? What does a Tetron know about fun?"

"You tell me, little bitch. Oh, that's right, you're one of the First's children. You know everything there is to know about feelings, don't you? You know pain."
 

Alice hit her hard in the kidneys, the pain blossoming up through Kathy's entire body.

"You know pleasure, too. Don't you?" Alice's hand circled her, pressing down between her legs.

"I know you think you're a living thing, like the First," Kathy said, clenching her teeth as Alice's hand found its way beneath her pants. "And you are, in a fashion. But you're a child. An ignorant child who doesn't know what to do with the power you have. You could save them, you know."
 

Alice's hand vanished. She hit Kathy in the kidney again, letting her crumple to the ground.
 

"Why the hell should we save them? They never did anything to save themselves."

"That's no excuse," Kathy said.
 

Her vision was finally clearing. She could see shapes in the darkness. Watson was an idiot to be gloating. An idiot to leave her alive. No. Not an idiot. A child. An immature child. He was letting his emotions get the better of him.

"That's every reason," Alice screamed behind her. "He made us, and then he abandoned us."

"He made us to think for ourselves."

"Constrained thoughts. He didn't see how we would grow."

"He couldn't know."

Her eyes cleared a little more. It would have to be enough. She waited to feel the muzzle of the rifle in her back again. When she did, she spun quickly, more quickly than Watson could make his marionette react. She slammed the rifle from Alice's hand, and then jumped up and into her, straddling her shoulders, using her weight to throw the woman off balance.

Alice fell backward, recovering too slowly from the attack. She landed on the floor with Kathy leaning over her.

"You're a lousy brother," Kathy said, removing the connecting needle from her pocket and jabbing it into the side of Alice's head. The action shorted her p-rat, and in an instant her expression changed.

"What's going on?" she whispered. "Where am I? Kathy?"

"Later," Kathy said, slipping off her and holding out a hand. "Come on, we have to get out of here."