Redemption Protocol (Contact) (30 page)

“This is the tettraxigyiom contamination. She’s suicidal. It's amplified her feelings. This is wrong.”

“Goodbye,” Hwan said.

Stephanie hugged her.

“I’m so sorry, Violette.”

Shuttle One’s vibration dissipated as the atmosphere thinned but the g-forces were still brutal as they decelerated and turned. Havoc didn’t care. He was giving it everything. Stone slumped forward in his harness, unconscious. Havoc monitored Stone’s lifesigns to make sure he wouldn’t suffer permanent damage.

“About a minute out,” Novosa said.

Silence. They waited for the sound of a kinetic shot.

And waited.

“I’m sorry,” came Hwan’s voice, sounding far away, “can you please... help me?”

Weaver clapped her hands over her mouth.

“Eugh.”

On the radar screen the two dots repeatedly converged then leaped apart as the resolution of the distance scale increased. They were close.

“Twenty seconds,” Novosa said.

Havoc kicked it up a notch for the final burn.

Weaver passed out, shortly followed by Novosa.

Hwan emerged back into the cabin carrying the pistol.

Havoc released his suit, rushed back through the cabin and scrambled into the lock. Their shuttle was still curving to match the vector of Shuttle Two. The lock sealed behind him.

In Shuttle One, Karch pointed up at the cabin camera.

“Could you state for the record that you want me to do this, Hwan, and that you don’t want any action taken against me for helping you.”

Karch was covering all her bases, Havoc thought, as he willed the lock to open.

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

“Ok. Thank you.”

Karch gestured for Hwan to go into the other cabin then followed her through.

The lock opened in front of Havoc. Space hit him. The other shuttle was there, improbably large, startlingly close; they were closing fast. He fired a wire over to an attachment point by the nearest lock on Shuttle Two. The wire rattled into the cone and locked into the fixture at the back. Havoc leaped forward as he deployed his jetpack, reeling in the line and flaring from his suit at the same time. The moment he did so, he ceased the brutal deceleration of Shuttle One to allow the crew to regain their senses.

The wire wasn't yet taut as he glided past Shuttle Two, still carrying the relative momentum of Shuttle One. The wire arrested him brutally. He played it out to stop it from breaking while his suit jets blasted on full burn. His jetpack propelled him ahead of the wire.

In Shuttle Two, Hwan and Karch stood in the middle of the rear cabin. Hwan knelt down on the floor. Karch turned toward the camera and switched off the feed.

~    ~    ~

In Shuttle One, Weaver and Novosa blinked awake almost the moment the deceleration reduced.

Weaver saw Havoc jetting toward Shuttle Two. It was painful to watch, he looked so slow. The outer lock of the middle cabin opened as he neared it.

“Come on!” Novosa shouted.

Stone lifted his head groggily.

Weaver balled her hands.

“He'll do it. He's so close.”

Havoc crashed into the lock and hauled himself inside.

Weaver lifted her hands to cover her entire face below her eyes.

“Come on. Come on.”

The lock closed behind Havoc.

Weaver and Novosa willed him on.

“Come on!”

~    ~    ~

Havoc stood in the lock as it re-pressurized, banging on the door to let them know he was there. The inner door opened.

He immediately shouted, “stop!” and jumped forward, rolling upright in the artificial gravity provided by Shuttle Two’s acceleration.

Stephanie punched him hard as he hurtled through the middle cabin.

“You bastard!”

He hauled himself across the room to the doorway as Stephanie flew away from him. Kemensky sat with his head in his hands. Stephanie screamed from behind him.

“Why are you so late?”

Stephanie screamed again in frustration.

Havoc leaped through the door. Karch was standing to one side with a pistol in her hand. She looked strangely vulnerable.

Hwan was kneeling at Karch’s feet, leaning forward with her arms crossed and her hair drawn back neatly over her ear.

She was alive.

Hwan looked up at Havoc, then slowly around the cabin. Her head sunk onto her knees and she curled into a ball.

Karch slowly lowered her weapon. Her eyes were wide and lost.

“I'm not the one to comfort her, am I?”

 44. 

Havoc sat next to the scientists in the Hub Hab.

The atmosphere was a strange combination of opposing emotions. On the one side, fear and uncertainty, and on the other, anticipation and excitement, particularly amongst the scientists. The room oscillated unpredictably between the two. At random intervals, from an otherwise morbid silence, an excited conversation would spring up on the nature of the ideograms, or what appeared to be a map inside one of the towers, or what Weaver thought might be mathematics in another.

Hwan had gone to lie down after being sedated by the remarkably chirpy Chaucer. Not only had Hwan nearly died, she’d also admitted to murdering her family to save herself on their journey to the Alliance colony of Cuurvolt. It was dark, Havoc thought, painfully dark.

Humberstone spoke from the next table as the leadership team filed in.

“Karch’s actions present a fascinating legal dilemma. One cannot doubt her good intentions but still...”

Karch sat stony faced as Humberstone speculated on her aborted execution. Abbott was incensed as he approached.

“Violette Hwan nearly died you little parasite. Don't you understand that?”

Humberstone twisted in his seat, startled.

“Well, yes, of course, but I see no need to––”

Abbott cut him off.

“Just leave it, Humberstone.”

Havoc didn’t like the implication of Humberstone’s comments.

“Karch wouldn't have killed Hwan any more than the rest of us. The saboteur would have been responsible, no one else.”

Karch looked over at Havoc, seemingly surprised at his support.

Touvenay walked back toward them. Touvenay had set up a wall screen to commemorate Marsac. The display presented four pictures of Marsac surrounded by a black border. Underneath the pictures was written, 'Honor his service'. Havoc studied the pictures of the largest member of the crew, alone on the wall.

“What about Hwan's family?” Bergeron said.

Havoc sighed and he wasn’t alone. The two lawyers couldn’t leave the Hwan situation alone; they worried at it like jackals over a corpse.

Weaver folded her arms.

“I think we should leave it. Violette was delirious.”

Novosa nodded.

“She'll be up soon, we need to move on.”

“Who'll assess her mental state?” Stephanie said.

Everyone understood that the thrust of Stephanie’s question was less about Hwan and more about Leveque, their crew psychologist. Leveque sat alone on the far side of the Hub Hab with the ship's cat on her lap. She was sitting stroking the cat and watching family holos in full immersion. Expressions of joy crossed her face at random intervals. It was tragic.

There wasn't anything they could do for Leveque. If they froze her she would degenerate anyway, and it seemed inhumane to do so while she still took pleasure in remembering her family. She didn't seem to be a threat to anyone. Everyone was conscious that they could be in Leveque's position shortly. The feeling of ‘treat others as you would be treated yourself’ resonated in the hab.

Chaucer looked over his shoulder.

“The system can assess her.”

Whittenhorn stood as Hwan entered the Hub Hab.

“Miss Hwan, are you sure––”

Hwan lifted a hand.

“Yes.”

Whittenhorn looked like he was searching for an appropriate form of words.

Hwan sat down at the back of the group.

“I need to do this.”

Whittenhorn nodded. He turned to address the group as a whole.

“I just wanted to point out that Mr Touvenay has put up that...”

“Tribute wall,” Touvenay said.

“Thank you for doing that,” Abbott said.

Touvenay looked uncertain.

“I don't think we should include Brennen.”

Abbott nodded.

“I agree.”

Whittenhorn stood shifting his weight from foot to foot. He clearly felt like he should say something.

“He's not dead yet.”

The room winced at the remark. Whittenhorn turned, red cheeked.

“Colonel Tyburn would like to discuss the security situation.”

Colonel
Tyburn now, Havoc thought. He felt something pricking his subconscious again. He wondered if Whittenhorn was getting to him. Political appointees always pissed him off. They got people killed and cared more for covering their ass than their team. But he didn't usually find it so disorienting. Could it be some Morvent Academy adaptations kicking in? More likely, was that tettraxigyiom shit starting to peel his mind apart?

Tyburn stood and assumed a suitably commanding posture.

“It would be easy to give in to fear and paranoia at what appear to be two acts of sabotage.”

Not exactly morale boosting but points for honesty, Havoc thought.

Tyburn looked toward Hwan.

“I just want to point out that what the saboteur did with the shuttle was, while very sophisticated in its execution, actually very limited in its effect. And we've taken steps to ensure it can’t happen again.”

“Can you imagine how hard this is going to be if we can’t trust our instrumentation?” Kemensky said.

Jafari turned to him.

“I've checked the rest of the vehicles. They're ok.”

Touvenay’s expression was sour.

“Assuming we can trust you, Jafari.”

Jafari looked hurt. He was wearing a T-shirt that said 'I'm available' on it. Not entirely appropriate, but Havoc thought Jafari probably didn't notice what was written on his clothing any more.

“We're engaging in a full sweep and scan, top to bottom,” Tyburn said.

“I'm surprised you didn’t do it before,” Stephanie said.

Tyburn bristled at the implied criticism.

“I am investigating. I've been through your cabins and may have to do so again.”

There was a general bustle of indignation. Tyburn looked at Whittenhorn.

“I gave my permission,” Whittenhorn said.

Tyburn nodded.

“The reality is that there were so many opportunities to insert code onto the shuttle that we’re unlikely to identify our spy from that action alone. Instead, I would ask you to be vigilant and cast me privately if you have any suspicions. And I mean anything, no matter how trivial.”

Tyburn raised himself to his full height.

“I would reiterate to everyone that it is my strong opinion that this is now a military mission.”

There was a general sigh. Abbott shook his head.

“Why don't you show you can catch one saboteur before you try to run the whole mission? Is there anything else?”

Whittenhorn nodded.

“There is indeed.”

Oh dear, Havoc thought, as Whittenhorn turned to glare at him.

“Mr Havoc consciously disobeyed a direct order.”

“And we got valuable information.”

“You've already assaulted an officer,” Whittenhorn said.

“You mean when I stopped you from disobeying your Commander and running away?”

“You have shown a flagrant disregard for––”

Abbott roared as he banged the table.

“We need a leader, not a school teacher!”

Whittenhorn looked stunned.

Abbott stood up. He turned his imposing figure toward Whittenhorn and pointed at him directly.

“I remind you of what we know to be true, Commander Whittenhorn. We do not have much time. It is solely as a result of Mr Havoc's
decisive action
that we have so much data to study. The question is what we do with this information before the other ships arrive, not how we descend into petty squabbles while we squander any slim advantage that we may yet have.”

Havoc brightened. He’d had a worrying feeling Whittenhorn was about to try and clap him in irons.

Weaver nodded.

“We should analyze what we have and determine our priorities.”

There were various nods. Whittenhorn sensed the mood of the room and looked questioningly at Weaver.