Dark Vengeance (13 page)

“No problems, sir. He’s just about completed the transfer.”

“We will be staying right here with you, Lieutenant. Keep us informed.”

“Yes sir.”

It was a good thirty minutes before we felt the ship shudder from reverse engine emissions. The effects from that kind of deceleration are always quite odd. On a ship the size of Star Seven, you can stand upright through the entire process, but you continuously have the feeling you are falling forward even though your eyes tell you that’s not happening. As the declaration subsides, the effect changes to a feeling of weightlessness, even though you continue to experience normal gravity the entire time.

Most unsettling of all to me is the sensation of being completely stopped in empty space, the kind of empty space that is not affected by a gravity field from any nearby stars. Veteran flyers have nicknamed it, “dead air.” Normally you are cruising through the galaxy in a bubble of space-time traveling at light speeds. The ship flexes and vibrates with life. There is a subconscious sound to it, something that tells you you’re going somewhere. But, when you find yourself at “all-stop,” within a vast vacuum of darkness, there is a stillness to it that cannot be simulated on Earth. It is as though the ship has taken a breath and is holding it. The reassuring subsonic feel is no longer there. You are spiritually aware of being nowhere, and going nowhere. You have a persistent little urge to go find the person responsible to tell them to get moving.

We waited around, and when the dead-air stillness finally took hold Captain Mars led us down a narrow hall to a small lounge designated for flight crew and engineers. We sat with coffee to mull things over.

“The purging of the flight deck must be done very slowly to preserve some of the more delicate instruments there,” he said. “It may be several hours before I can decide exactly how to proceed.”

“It worries me that they haven’t found anything else in aft engineering,” said R.J.

“Yes, we dare not open the undocumented container. When they begin the internal scans of it, we may know more. Captain Tarn, perhaps we have a moment here to review. Is there anything else the saboteur said to you before he died?”

“As a matter of fact there was something. R.J. and I have been considering it. Perhaps you can enlighten us, Captain. He made reference to something called a Gaglion. Ever heard that name?”

The Captain thought. He shook his head. “No. I’ve never heard of such a thing. But you’re certain that’s what he said?”

“I heard him too, Captain,” said R.J. “He said the Gaglion would be coming. I couldn’t tell if it was plural or just a single Gaglion.”

“I’m hoping it’s an alien reference to a person’s conscience, mine in particular, Captain. It’s possible he was expecting me to be tormented by guilt,” I said.

“I wonder what our chances are of finding a reference to that name without subspace communications. We’ll have to try,” suggested Mars. “Perhaps the medical database will come through again.”

“I’ll pick that up as well, Captain,” said R.J. “My own laptop reference collection might have something.”

“Gentlemen, the three of us were up all night. This might be a good opportunity for the two of you to get some rest, if you can. I will contact you when the flight deck purge is complete, or if aft engineering comes up with anything new.”

“What about you, Captain?” I asked.

“I must remain on duty until we have some resolution on these problems. There will be a flood of inquiries from the guests and crew. The doctor will give me something to keep me going for a bit more. You two should take cover in your quarters and rest. I have no doubt you’ll be needed.”

I reluctantly followed R.J. out and down the lift. In the grand gallery, life aboard the Star Seven was in full swing but it was anything but routine. More guests or their aides were traversing the concourse looking annoyed. Staff members were en route to their duties with a greater haste than usual. It was very obvious people were more than just nervous and dissatisfied. Word we were dropping out of light had spread like wildfire. Dead air now left them feeling trapped, the most dangerous of crowd mentalities.

As we walked, I could feel foreboding from R.J., a sentiment I shared. He spoke without looking at me.

“That was one hell of a holomatter generator lizard man was using,” he repeated, almost to himself.

“So you’ve said. Professional equipment for a professional,” I replied.

“Did you catch the irony of his sad end?”

“What do you mean?”

“A man pretending to be a hologram was captured by a hologram pretending to be a man.”

“Wow, in my relief I missed that.”

“You know, you left out some of the finer details of lizard man’s deathbed statement when you talked to the Captain about it.”

“To what do you refer, although I’m trying to forget?”

“When you asked him why he committed suicide, he said it was the only way left for him to kill you.”

“Now I remember. That’s the part I was trying to forget.”

“Quite a telling statement, don’t you think?”

“Not unexpected. For hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee?”

“But it meant that by dying and triggering his end of life monitor he felt assured of killing you.”

“You’re trying to reassure me the worst hasn’t come yet.”

“Then there was his respect for the Gaglion, whatever that is. He implied that he preferred death rather than being here when it showed up.”

“So what is a Gaglion?”

“I would be willing to give odds that we have one in aft engineering.”

“Along with two engineers back there, sealed in by automatic quarantine.”

“I’m going to search the ship’s data base and see if there’s any way to get those men out of there.”

“And abandon aft engineering, the only place we have control of this ship?”

“You’re playing devil’s advocate, but you agree with me, don’t you?”

“Yes, although the devil seems well represented aboard this ship already.”

“We can’t get into aft engineering, and nothing can get out. If we could somehow remove those two men, we might have enough ship stores to wait out a rescue.”

“With our Gaglion neatly trapped where hopefully it could do no harm.”

“So why didn’t you tell the Captain about the finer details of lizard man’s death confession?”

“Are you kidding? Have you quantified what I’ve done to that poor man already?”

“You, Sir, are not to blame for the sins of the world.”

“Oh boy, I sense another lecture coming.”

“Later. Let’s each mount our information centers and see if we can save those men.”

“There’s not a single thing in this tiny, marooned world I’d rather do.”

Chapter 8

There was a way. A password to the ship’s classified data provided by Captain Mars gave us what we needed. There was one single, absurd chance to remove two engineers from aft engineering despite the automatic contamination lock down. Besides qualifying as absurd, it would break every rule in the book since anyone possibly exposed to a contaminant should never be allowed a chance to infect those around them. Ironically, as idiotic an idea as it was, I and a dear friend of mine had already tested the idea, once upon a time.

Nearly all large ships have a coolant flush system. During certain maintenance cycles coolant is flushed from the engine systems and replaced with fresh coolant. The old coolant is simply blown out a vent into space. The flush tubes are big enough for a man, and have access ports for inspection and maintenance. Along with this unintended pathway to an outer door, all engineering sections also keep a variety of self-contained maintenance suits not intended for, but temporarily suitable to, the cold vacuum of space. Explaining to the two engineers that they should don their best possible self-contained heated suit and blow themselves out a coolant purge vent would be a tricky errand at best. Explaining to the Captain that we should immediately use such an asinine sounding plan to abandon aft engineering, the only facility left that could control the ship, promised to be a degree or two more difficult. If we could actually sell such insanity, we would then need to add that two of us in standard space suits would need to be out there to retrieve the engineers since they possessed no maneuvering units with which to reach an airlock.

We wasted no time in heading back to the flight deck ready room where Captain Mars was still maintaining vigilance. The crowd of staff around him had grown slightly. When he finally turned to find us petitioning his time, he appeared worse for wear, a man overwhelmed with loss and foreboding. He was surprised to see us and not necessarily pleased.

We did our best to make our plan seem palatable, though it was not. By the time we had finished taking turns trying to sell it, we both realized there was just no way.

“Gentlemen, I appreciate the insights you’ve offered, but really, you must know what you are suggesting is based completely on speculation, violates every rule in the book, and is preposterous at best. I do not understand why you believed I would consider such a dangerous idea.”

R.J. intervened. “Captain, one of the three of us sitting here has already done this escape successfully.”

The Captain looked at us with doubt. “Normally I would laugh you off this level, Commander.”

I gave it my best, “Captain, the alternative is to leave those two men trapped in a compartment with a Gaglion.”

“Captain Tarn, you do not know what a Gaglion is. You know absolutely nothing about it. It could be a meaningless curse that the lizard man believed in. Right now the men are safe. What you are proposing they do is not.”

“Captain, have there been any more developments in aft engineering?”

The Captain paused. “The seal on the suspect container has continued to deteriorate, but there have been no problems whatsoever. We are in the process of subjecting the interior of the container to a super definition scan.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’d do that, Captain. That imparts high frequency energy into what ever matter is inside that container,” said R.J.

“Ignorance is more dangerous than caution in this case, Commander.”

“You could at least give those men the option, Captain,” I suggested.

Captain Mars rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “Yes. I cannot order them do to such a potentially life-threatening thing but if the situation worsens I will mention this as a possibility to them. You should expect they will dismiss it as ludicrous, however.”

“Then if the situation does become more volatile they at least will have it as an alternative,” said R.J. “Suggest they set up so that it could be implemented quickly if the situation does become threatening.”

The Captain rubbed his forehead.

“Captain, just when do you plan on getting some rest yourself?” asked R.J.

The Captain looked away as though it was a fair question he did not care to address.

“If there’s anything we can do to assist Captain, we are at your disposal,” I added.

“Thank you, Gentlemen. I will retire to my stateroom where my staff can keep me apprised as things develop. I’m just waiting for the scan on that container to be completed.”

A voice called out from behind him. “That data is just coming in, Sir.”

We followed the Captain and looked over his shoulder as he read the information displayed on a monitor. The engineer conducting the analysis spoke. “There’s no thermal bonding compound in that container, Captain. It’s something organic, and it reads… multidimensional!”

R.J. spoke out of turn. “Engineer, would you explain multidimensional?”

The engineer looked at his Captain. The Captain nodded. “We don’t really know. It suggests the material occupies more than just one dimension. Our analytical computer is suggesting something we’ve never seen before.”

Mars said, “Gentlemen, once again may I suggest you really do go and get rest yourself. We may be in for a long day. I promise to keep you informed. Now please, go.”

We bowed out and returned to our staterooms. The evening interior had already set up. I fell backwards onto the bed and again began to search for answers.

A shrill, irritating sound awoke me. The display on the night stand suggested I had slept for four hours though it could not have been that long. R.J. came staggering through the door mumbling, “Well, that didn’t sound good. Did I fall asleep?”

I pushed myself up and together we headed out to the concourse. Just outside the door, we stopped in surprise. To our left, a crowd was forming. They were staring up at the exterior overhead windows. We squinted upward and wandered over to join them. Shock set in.

An engineer was outside in a maintenance suit hugging the curvature of windows, staring down wide-eyed, his mouth open in what was probably a scream for help. It looked like Azur.

The sight woke me all the way to panic. My legs took off running before my mind had time to catch up. I was yelling, “R.J. I’ll need you,” but it sounded like someone else’s voice.