A Taste Of Despair (The Humal Sequence) (4 page)

“True,” Grimes smiled. “The quiet ones always make you appreciate….”

“What the Hell!” Rames’ voice was incredulous. His fingers flicked over the seat-mounted controls for his display panel.

“Sir!” Grimes asked, startled at the outburst. He looked over his Captain’s shoulder. “What is it?”

Rames was staring at the image on the display. His fingers flew over the controls. The displayed face, one of the sleepers, sharpened and became more defined.

“I’ll be damned!” Rames finally said, sitting back and staring at the image.

“Sir?” Grimes repeated. “You sound as if you know that person?”

Rames nodded. “I do. I really do! God knows what he’s doing there, though.”

Grimes thought his Captain sounded confused. “Who is he?”

Rames chuckled. “The luckiest man I ever came across.”

Grimes noted the database had already matched the face to census records.

“James Arthur Hamilton.” Grimes noted. “Is he important?”

Rames looked at his exo. “Trust me, wherever this guy shows up, there’s always something funny going on.”

The captain hesitated a moment, then jabbed the comms button. “Harvan! Change of plans. Anderton, I want you to get working on reanimating one of these people. Specifically, this one.” Rames re-transmitted the image of Hamilton back to the medic. “I want him reanimated and in the med-bay able to answer questions asap. Is that clear?”

Harvan and Anderton acknowledged the order, then Anderton began to add his concerns about the old technology and its reliability.

Rames rode over him. “I’m not interested in how problematic it is, just get it done. Rames, out.”

Behind him, Grimes raised an eyebrow. The Captain never ended a conversation with “Rames out” unless he was rattled about something.

“So, you were about to tell me about this Hamilton fellow?” He prompted.

Rames regarded his exo speculatively. “Hmm. Let’s just say that, if it wasn’t for him, I’d be serving time in a military penitentiary right now. The rest is classified, but suffice to say, I owe that man my life. That, and more beside.”

CHAPTER TWO

When Hamilton regained his senses, he saw that he was in a small med-bay. Two men loomed over him. One was clearly a medic of some sort, judging by his attire. Hamilton had never seen him before. The other man, however, Hamilton did recognize, albeit he had aged a lot since the last time he had seen him. It took his addled brain a few moments to match the face with a name.

“Rames?” He managed to croak. His throat was raw.

A side-effect of the freezing/thawing process, no doubt
. He thought.
Those old cryo-capsules sure weren’t kind on their occupants.

In addition to the sore throat, he ached all over. It felt like he’d been worked over by a gang of thugs in a dark alley someplace. His vision was slightly off, as well, one minute pin-sharp, the next ever so slightly blurred.

“Hamilton.” Rames nodded. “So you do remember me?”

Hamilton attempted to snort in amusement but it sounded more like a sneeze. “How could I forget. We both nearly got hung out to dry back then.”

Rames glanced at the medic. “Thank you, Anderton, that will be all for the moment. I need to talk to Mr. Hamilton alone.”

Anderton nodded. “Of course. Don’t get him too excited, Captain. He’s still weak from the re-animation procedure.”

Rames nodded. “It’ll take more than me to get his pulse racing.”

The doctor nodded and left them alone.

 Hamilton immediately adjusted his position in the bed, sitting up more so that he could see his surroundings better.

The med-bay was tiny, sporting only four beds. Endless lockers and cupboards lined the walls and there were two doors. One led to a glass-walled office that looked into the med-bay – no doubt the doctor’s office. The other, presumably, led to the rest of the ship.

A small ship
. Hamilton thought.
If the infirmary was anything to go by.

Rames cleared his throat. “So. You want to tell me how you ended up on a long-lost freighter?”

Hamilton shook his head slightly. “Not really. But I suppose I’d better come up with some sort of explanation, else you’ll throw me into the brig again.”

Rames looked pained. “You will never let me forget that, will you?”

Hamilton smiled. “Last time I was on a clandestine mission, so I refused to tell you anything. Throwing me into the brig was about all you could do, I guess. I forgive you for that, but I won’t ever forget!”

Rames scowled. “I had a much bigger ship to command then, too.”

Hamilton nodded, looking around. “This does seem a trifle smaller than the last one. What happened?”

Rames’ scowl deepened. “After the revelations of your mission back then, a lot of heads rolled. Military heads, top brass, civilian contractors. A lot of heads, Hamilton. As it happened, mine wasn’t one of them. Your findings exonerated as many people as they damned. However, the new, incoming, top brass decided there were too many people in positions of power that knew what had gone on. It was an embarrassment that they didn’t want surfacing any time soon. So, those of us who knew anything at all were... re-deployed. Usually to backwater systems and lonely outposts. Our reward for being honest officers was to be flung into obscurity with little, or no, prospects of further advancement.”

Hamilton frowned. “I’m sorry, Rames. I didn’t intend for any of that to happen.”

Rames glared at him a moment, then sighed. “Well, it did! Not your doing, I know. You just did your job, investigating corruption and collusion between the military and civilian authorities.”

“I guess I’m not very popular with those people.”

Rames shrugged. “Most of them don’t know who it was that brought them low, luckily for you! They just know it happened. Most of their anger, most of my anger, is directed at the people that sent me out here, not you.”

“Well, I’m sorry anyway.” Hamilton told him.

“Collateral damage.” Rames asserted. “It was probably inevitable.”

Hamilton was silent for a moment, thinking. “What happened with Brenna? I did my best… but I never found out what happened in the end.”

Rames sighed. “You did enough, as you promised. Her name came up and she would have spent the rest of her life in prison. But you managed to make it look like she was set-up for a fall by others. She did a small amount of time then was released.”

“You two didn’t reconnect, then?” Hamilton wondered.

Rames shook his head. “We knew what would happen if we got together again. The questions that would be asked. It was too risky. You got us both out of a hole. It would have been stupid to jump back in it.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have fixed that better than I did.” Hamilton said.

Rames shrugged. “We’re both still alive and free. You did enough. Anyway. Enough about me. Your appearance here suggests something else is up. I’d like to know whether I’m about to be re-deployed again.”

Hamilton hesitated. “You were a good friend back then. I have the feeling that the less you know, the better off you’ll be.”

“That is not very reassuring.”

“I don’t do reassurances.” Hamilton admitted.

Rames was silent for a moment. “Maybe I should thaw out someone else and ask them?”

“That probably wouldn’t be terribly helpful.”

“Why not?” Rames asked. “Most of them are civilians or Survey Corp folk, according to their records. I think they’d be much more likely to be cooperative than you. Or do you think five years in a freezer will have addled their recollection of events?”

Hamilton’s surprise must have been evident.

Rames smiled. “That’s right. Five years. So chances are, whatever you were doing on that ship is long over and done with. So why don’t you tell me all about it?”

The Captain settled back in his chair and crossed his arms.

Five years
. Hamilton mused.
That changes things. Changes them a lot
.

“Well?” Rames prompted.

Hamilton frowned. “Give me a minute, okay. I’m trying to figure out how five years changes this particular game.”

Rames scowled. “Trying to think up some convincing lie, no doubt.”

Hamilton scowled himself, thinking furiously. It was five years since the events in orbit of the Humal world. There was no telling what Walsh had gotten up to in that amount of time.

“Tell me,” He began. “What’s the state of the Empire?”

Rames looked puzzled. “Same as it always has been. Bureaucracy and red-tape. Slow expansion. Over taxation. All the usual bullshit.”

“Nothing…weird, going on?”

“Define weird.”

Hamilton’s brow furrowed. “Weird as in, I don’t know… people going missing, or acting strange. Anything unexplained, disappearances, odd events. That sort of thing.”

Rames thought about it for a moment. “Not that I’m aware of. But then, I’m out here on the edge of the frontier, thanks to your previous efforts. I don’t keep up with events in the core systems.”

“There must be something.” Hamilton persevered. “Anything odd in the last five years.”

Rames shrugged. “Worst thing I can recall is some terrorist bio-plague that wiped out a city on Sepharim Prime. Other than that it’s been a quiet few years.”

“Bio-plague?”

Rames nodded. “You’re better off asking Anderton the details, it’s more his thing. All I know is some new terrorist group sprang up, got hold of some virulent bio-weapon, and dumped it on some big city. They put it in the water supply, if I recall correctly. Killed tens of thousands.”

Hamilton mulled it over. It didn’t sound like anything Walsh might be involved with. Walsh seemed more like the sort to rely on good old fashioned military means to wipe out his enemies. Besides, when you could take over your opponents mind and body, there was little point in killing them like that. But five years was more than long enough for Walsh to have built a replacement for the Hope’s Breath and returned to the Humal world to reclaim the rest of his kind.

It was possible, of course, that Walsh had not survived the transmission from the Humal world into human space. There might well, in fact, be nothing at all to worry about.

So why do I feel like everything is about to go pear-shaped?
Hamilton wondered.

“So.” Rames persisted. “Why not tell me what you’ve been up to?”

Hamilton sighed. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt. The others, in the freezers, all know the truth. I guess it won’t hurt to tell you.”

So Hamilton told him the whole story from his initial contact with Vogerian, all the way through to the last conversation he had with Walsh whilst his escape pod plummeted towards the Humal World.

Rames listened without interruption, though his facial expressions gave a good indication of his thoughts at various points during the tale. A mixture of incredulity and astonishment, for the most part.

Hamilton finished off the telling with the group’s exodus from the planet and its escape back to human space using the jury-rigged
Morebaeus
.

“You didn’t jury-rig it very well.” Rames observed.

Hamilton nodded. “Evidently. McDonald assured us it would work, though.”

“Was it McDonald that rigged the cryo-capsule to wake him up after a short period of time?” Rames inquired.

Hamilton nodded.

“Well, there’s your answer. He wasn’t all that good an engineer.” Rames explained. “He bungled his safety override procedure. That’s why he never woke up, even when his power cell failed. It’s a fairly safe bet he didn’t know as much about engineering as he made out.”

“He’s dead?”

Rames nodded. “Dead and rotted in his capsule, poor bastard. Incredibly, the rest of you survived his engine modifications.”

The two men were silent for a time before Rames asked. “So, you think this Walsh creature and his buddies made it back here into Imperial territory? That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Basically.” Hamilton agreed. “If he made it back, there’s no telling who, or what, he and his people could have infected.”

“It’s a pretty far-fetched story.” Rames told him. “Not many people are going to believe it. I’m not sure I should believe it. For all I know it’s just bullshit to keep me from looking elsewhere.”

“I know. It’s difficult to comprehend. That’s why we concocted a cover story that leaves out the alien part, and the location of the Humal world.”

Rames snorted. “You know that they’ll be an inquiry, right? You don’t just turn up with a ship lost for fifty years and a sob-story and expect to walk away. You and your companions will be grilled seven ways from Sunday. Chances are some of them will crack under examination.”

“I know. But what else can we do? We start babbling about aliens and one of two things will happen. Firstly, if Walsh didn’t make it back, some fool is going to send a ship out to that world and dig up the rest of his alien compatriots. Secondly, if he did get back here already, then it’s going to tip him off that I got back and force him to act. At the moment, if he’s here, he’s none the wiser.”