Fracture Lines (The Glass Complex Book 2) (2 page)

“I’m Lieutenant Carson, Imperial Security. I have some questions for you.”

Steg tried to focus on the officer. His vision was blurred and his eyes watered. “Yes?” His voice had not improved.

“Tell me about your uniform. We do not have its design in our records.”

“Wha—” He did not hide his confusion.

“Your uniform. Where did you get it?”

“Issued—to me.”

“By whom?”

“Imp—Imperial Intelligence Agency.”

“There’s no such agency.” The questioner’s voice held a challenging tone.

Steg’s eyes closed again. His awareness faded as he lost consciousness and he did not hear the conversation that ensued when Dr. Yi entered the ICU.

“Lieutenant, what are you doing here?”

“Doctor, this is none of your business.”

“If you interfere with the well-being and recovery of one of my patients, it certainly is my business. Now get out of this unit.”

“You can’t order me—”

Although Dr. Yi was diminutive, her fury compensated for her tiny build. She arm-twisted the ImpSec officer and marched him to the ICU doorway. The doctor held the rank of colonel and she was not going to be lectured to by a green lieutenant, even if he was wearing ImpSec colors.

“You can’t do this to me. I’m Imperial Security,” protested the young officer, rubbing his wrist. His expression was petulant. He straightened his cuff, shaking out the crease resulting from the surgeon’s grip.

“Lieutenant Carson, you’re banned from all wards where I have authority. In future, if you wish to interview one of my patients, you must submit a written request for me to consider. Also, you will need to be accompanied by your senior officer. Understand?” Dr. Yi dusted her hands and turned away—she had concluded their conversation.

The ImpSec lieutenant left, futilely attempting to slam the air-cushioned ICU doors, all the while vowing, under his breath, revenge for his humiliation. He was far more accustomed to a different reaction; his typical target was some young and naive recruit, easy to both bully and browbeat. His report to his commanding officer would detail this encounter with Dr. Yi as an unwarranted assault on his person and as an insult to Imperial Security. He was annoyed at having his intentions frustrated by those whom he considered beneath him. His was an Alutan family and house failing, although he did not recognize it as such.

In the meantime the surgeon had stepped back into the ICU and checked the vital signs of her patient. He had been out of the tank for less than a day and was not yet in any condition to cope with questions, let alone unnecessary ones from ImpSec with their rough approach and automatic assumption of guilt.

Dr. Yi was pleased with the results of her medical treatment. The young captain was making progress. Oh yes, she thought, he has an ugly scar on the side of his face; the discoloration would fade with time and if necessary, Fleet would arrange surgery to reduce or remove any residual facial disfigurement. Her real concern was the possibility of some memory loss or impaired mental functioning as a result of the impact to her patient’s head. She would not know if her concern was real until he was further along his recovery process. She recorded her observations at the ICU workstation.

Steg sensed the presence of someone and tried to open his eyes. His eyelids flickered. At last he was able to hold them open. Judging by her uniform and shoulder tabs, a medical colonel was standing beside his bed, observing him.

“Good morning, Captain de Coeur,” said the colonel. “My Name’s Yi, Dr. Yi. How do you feel this morning?”

“I’m—not sure.” His voice still croaked.

The doctor checked the monitoring readouts along the top of the ICU bed. Her patient was recovering, much faster than she had anticipated.

“Your life signs are good. Your condition is improving.” She held his wrist. She intended the gesture to provide comfort and reassurance; she had already observed her patient’s pulse on the readouts. “What are you able to remember? Can you tell me what happened to you?”

Steg thought for a moment and frowned. “It’s all blank. I don’t know. Where am I?” He tried to raise himself off the pillow.

“Gently, don’t agitate yourself,” the doctor cautioned as she pushed him back. “You’re on
xTaur
, an Imperial hospital starship. You’ll meet my nursing team later. We’ve been treating you for almost four weeks now.”

“A hospital starship? Imperial?”

“Of course. Now tell me about yourself. I need to make notes for our medical records. Who’s your commanding officer?”

“I report to—to—Colonel—Denke. My CO is—General Boston.” His eyes closed and his voice faded.

Dr. Yi entered the brief details supplied by her patient. The ship system did not find a match to the officers he had mentioned. The surgeon frowned, wondering if perhaps she had misheard the names.

“This is an official enquiry, Dr. Yi,” reminded Colonel Richmond, the senior Imperial Security officer presiding. It was ten days after Colonel Yi’s run-in with the young ImpSec lieutenant. The colonel, together with two other ImpSec officers, both majors, was sitting behind a courtroom-like bench. The three men wore the green fatigues of serving military officers. Dr. Yi stood before the tribunal. She had dressed in her white uniform, with all the medals she had earned on the battlefield. It was an impressive collection, reflecting, amongst other awards, medals for her bravery in treating wounded personnel while under fire and for her dedication to her patients. She doubted the ImpSec officers would appreciate their symbolism.

“I’m aware of ImpSec and its enquiries,” said the doctor.

“So you should be familiar with our wide-reaching powers.”

“Your powers don’t allow ImpSec to question my patients and possibly endanger their recovery without my consent and my presence. The law’s well established. If you want, I can quote the Imperial Articles of War and supporting legal decisions, for your records.”

“No, it won’t be necessary, thank you. We are trying to discover how your patient, this de Coeur—managed to board
xTaur.
There is no record anywhere of his presence, until you commenced his treatment.”

“You’re not correct,” replied Dr. Yi. Her expression did not waver from its professional mien. “I received a MedSys notification, a standard medical alert, on my workstation, which included reservation of my ICU. This was timed at fifteen minutes prior to Captain de Coeur’s arrival at my ICU. Also, the gurney’s AI had established an initial diagnosis of his injury, some seven or eight minutes before the patient reached the ICU. So ship system records existed prior to my commencing treatment of the patient.”

One of the two ImpSec majors spoke up. “Agreed, Dr. Yi. We checked the medical alerts, and yes, one was delivered to you, at the same time the ICU was reserved. However, we don’t know—”

The colonel interrupted. “So, Dr. Yi, you contend you had no prior knowledge of this patient? None at all?”

“You are correct.”

“Do you know anything about this so-called Imperial Intelligence Agency?”

“I know nothing about the agency.”

“Yet you entered the details into the ship system?” interjected the other major.

“Of course. I entered the details advised by my patient.”

“So you enter anything your patients tell you?”

“Why not? I don’t have in-depth knowledge of all the Imperial military and quasi-military structures. I’m a surgeon and, may I remind you, a senior officer in the Imperial Medical Corps.”

There was silence for a long moment.

“Thank you, Dr. Yi. That will be all, for now.” The ImpSec colonel made a file entry.

Dr. Yi turned and exited the ImpSec office. She did not salute. She was more than irritated by the questions and the attitude of the so-called security tribunal. ImpSec had a problem, and it was obvious that its officers were reaching out to find someone other than themselves to blame for their security issue. When she reached her office an anxious nurse was waiting for her.

“Dr. Yi, they’re arresting Captain de Coeur,” she said.

“Come,” commanded the doctor, heading to the ICU. It was only a hundred yards from her office, and she reached the unit as an ImpSec team was preparing to move her patient from the room. She stood in the doorway, effectively blocking the exit.

“Lieutenant Carson.” Dr. Yi identified the ImpSec officer. She noted her other ICU nurse was holding a bruised wrist. “Please return my patient to his bed. You’ve committed at least one offense under Imperial Articles of War, and I intend to submit charges and arrange for your arrest. Do you understand?”

Without waiting for an acknowledgment, she turned to her senior nurse. “Nurse Rowe, please contact the SPs; the duty officer is Major Reid. Tell him we need his presence here, urgently. Tell him ImpSec, in the person of Lieutenant Carson, is attempting to kidnap one of my patients. Quote Articles of War section 3015, subsection 25. He’ll understand.” She did not add she had discussed this possibility with the major after Carson’s first foray into her ward. The doctor turned back to the stunned ImpSec team. “Well?”

“Sir, we’re following the lieutenant’s orders—” a young ImpSec sergeant attempted to explain. Lieutenant Carson remained silent. His plan to remove the patient while the tribunal questioned the doctor had totally unraveled.

“Since when does a lieutenant outrank a colonel?” Dr. Yi demanded. “Are you refusing to obey my lawful command? We’re still in a state of war, and your court martial—and yours, Lieutenant—will make media headlines. You’ll know, of course, the maximum sentence for this offense—as we’re not on an active battlefield where it would be execution—is life imprisonment.”

The sergeant signaled his men, a corporal and two privates, who were holding Captain de Coeur. The doctor watched from the doorway as they returned her patient to his bed. He was almost unconscious and was in no condition to be removed from the ICU. While she was watching, she heard, behind her, the arrival of Major Reid and his team of Starship Police. She did not move from her position and turned her head to address the new arrivals.

She said, “Major, I want to charge Lieutenant Carson for refusal to obey a lawful command, for conspiracy, and for breaching Articles of War regarding removal of a patient under treatment of an authorized medic. His team members are to be charged with conspiracy and, similarly, for breaching Articles of War. I suspect they assaulted one of my nurses and if so, that deed is to be added to their list of offenses.”

Reid moved forward and Dr. Yi stepped out of his way. His men followed crowding into the small room. Two nurses checked their patient while the doctor waited for the results of their appraisal.

“Dr. Yi, are you certain?” asked the major.

“Yes. I warned this officer, I gave him a precise and clear order. I have a recording; everything is recorded in our ICUs. He disobeyed my order. I cannot, as a senior officer in service of the Emperor, ignore an outright refusal by a junior officer to obey a lawful command. His men may not have known of my order; however, they’re aware, or should be aware, their actions were unlawful.”

“Very well. Lieutenant Carson, I’m placing you under arrest. Are you carrying any weapons?”

“I’ll have you broken for this, Yi,” snarled the lieutenant. “And you too, Reid, if you proceed with this farce. Now back off, and let me and my team go. In case you didn’t notice, I’m giving an order, a real order.”

“It’s time to realize,” Reid said, “this time your bullying tactics won’t work. Either co-operate, or I’ll order my men to treat you as a hostile offender. Your choice.”

This will mean another appearance at an ImpSec tribunal, thought Dr. Yi, as Major Reid arrested the lieutenant and his team. She was confident ImpSec would not condone the activities of this junior officer.
Of course,
she mused,
they could, in future, place barriers to hinder my career, in which case retirement would be an attractive and welcome option
.

“Good morning, Captain de Coeur. How’s my patient today?” Dr. Yi smiled as she reached for Steg’s wrist. Five days prior she had authorized his release from the ICU and continued to be impressed at the speed of his recovery. Steg now occupied a standard hospital ward, and while it was designed to hold four patients, currently he was the only occupant. The furniture was utilitarian, the beds were basic and clean, and the walls and ceiling were painted a light blue. The floor was highly polished. There was a slight odor of hospital disinfectant. She had not checked but she was confident there was no dust anywhere in the room; the crew and staff on-board
xTaur
ensured its reputation for clinical cleanliness was never at risk.

“Improving, thank you.”

“Very good. Yes, I agree, all your signs show a steady improvement.” She tugged her compad out of a deep pocket and sat on the chair beside his bed. “Now, are you up to answering some questions for me?”

“Yes.” Steg was cautious.

Dr. Yi continued to portray reassurance. “Oh, I’m not nearly as aggressive as ImpSec. Remember, I can’t guarantee how long I can hold them off.”

“I understand—at least, I think I do. Can I ask questions, too?” Steg had enough core memory to realize there was knowledge to be gained that would aid his recovery.

“Of course. Now I have you listed as Captain de Coeur. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“First name and planet of origin?”

“Steg. I’m from Homeworld; it’s located in the Centaur Belt, Rimwards.” He had recovered general memories of his home planet and its capital, Castlehome.

“Good. Now we get to the interesting parts. How were you wounded?”

“I—I recall someone warning me about a blaster. The warning was followed by agonizing pain, and then everything went black. When I regained consciousness, I was here, on board your hospital starship.”

“Where were you when you were shot?”

Steg’s expression reflected his anxiety. “I—don’t know. I’ve tried to remember. I can recall general things—names of star systems, for example. But when I try for more pertinent details—personal details—everything is a blank.”