Test of Magnitude (The Torian Reclamation) (40 page)

Brandon paused again for effect before continuing.

“Hey, we all make mistakes, right? I mean, back home on Earth, as a race we have done some things we regret as well.

 “We were told Earth was expected to undergo a polar axis shift which would destroy much of the life on it, and so in a sense could consider our abductions a rescue of sorts. But to be kept in cryonic preservation against our wills is not a rescue any of us would welcome. Our freedom is important to us. It seems the Torians value their freedom as well.

“Jack’s final wish of returning to Earth someday is something not terribly difficult to arrange with the technology the Torians currently have. I just came from an interstellar journey myself. If wrongs are to now be righted, especially in light of the cooperation we have shown our hosts, perhaps we will be given the opportunity to return to Earth and take our chances.

“First things first, of course. The immediate priority is freedom for the remainder of our population here.

“And now I feel I must apologize for turning this occasion into one of political lobbying—but I am certain Jack would approve.” Brandon could see objects in the sky approaching from behind the seated crowd. It was the expected squadron of conventional fighters. Brandon turned towards Jack’s coffin.

“Goodbye, my friend.”

He stepped back from the podium to resume his place at the head of the line of dignitaries. The formation of fighters roared over the hilltop, so close everyone could feel a slight vacuum in in the air as they passed.

The metallic column holding up Jack’s coffin then turned bright yellow. In another moment, Jack’s coffin was engulfed in flames and a tall trail of smoke wisped skyward.

Absolute silence.

Everyone watched the coffin incinerate, until there was nothing left, whereupon the cylindrical tower turned back to a silver color. Jack was gone.

Chapter Nineteen

“Where are they? Why are we alone?”

“I don’t know,” Mip7 said. He checked the time on his lightpad. “We weren’t late. Maybe they were early. We’ve waited around out here long enough. Our transmitters have been given clearance, so let’s just go back. They must be there already.”

Brandon was uneasy as the two of them rode the giant escalator down behind the Science Complex entrance. “I’m getting a bad feeling,” he said, “and I must admit this place still frightens me.”

“It’s a rational fear,” Mip7 said. “I never told you, but just after you left here that director started talking like he wanted to put you and Derek back to sleep—and I believe he did.”

“Markin1?”

“Yes. Professor Yob3 and I had some real problems with him last time I was here as well, when you were at Landen. His actions were questionable.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some of the subjects chosen for resuscitation were taken aside and marked unstable by Markin1 and his assistants. Markin1 told us there was a problem in their environment, some breach of equilibrium, which made them unsafe for processing. He had them separated out from the network, though, as if he were going to terminate them.”

“Terminate them?!”

“We can’t be certain, but we had our suspicions. Yob3 ran a diagnostics on the ‘problem subjects’ when Markin1 was away, and then adjusted some things. He managed to get them stable again, so we revived them, successfully. Markin1 was livid when he returned. Yob3 later told me it was a simple test and correctional procedure a first year cryonics student could have performed. And there was no rational explanation for the instability of those tanks not having been discovered prior to their removal from the network.”

“You think it was sabotage?”

Mip7 looked Brandon in the eye and lowered his voice. “I do.”

“By Markin1?”

Mip7 began to nod, but then changed it into a shrug.

Brandon was suddenly anxious to get to RL-71. There was a real danger now to his fellow humans. But where was their help? Mip7 and Brandon by themselves were no match for Markin1 and his assistants. Hopefully, the party that was supposed to meet them was already there.

Traffic inside the Science Complex was light compared to the last time Brandon was here, when he and Derek were unceremoniously rushed out. Today it seemed there were not as many Torians moving about. Maybe that was a good thing. Using the various ground transportation methods necessary to get back to Research Lab 71didn’t take long.

The RL-71 lobby was empty. Brandon had the same feeling he did out at the Science Complex entrance that something was wrong.

Brandon and Mip7 approached the reception desk. The two administrators behind the desk paid them no attention. They didn’t even look up. They were busy playing a game.

It was polwar.

Brandon felt sick to his stomach. This was the infection. It was no longer just being played by off-duty military personnel. What had happened to the Azaarians could happen here. It was already beginning.

“Tulros,” Mip7 said to the Torians behind the desk.

No response.

“You shouldn’t play that game,” Mip7 said in a louder voice. “It will destroy you.”

Now they looked up. “Yes?” one of them said. He was obviously annoyed at having been interrupted.

“Please tell Professor Yob3 we’re here to see him.”

“Wait for him in the lobby, please.”

Brandon and Mip7 sat down.

“If that game is out in public now,” Brandon said, “both your worlds may end up like Azaar, or even worse. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. If everyone here is poisoned by that thing, no one will work, and we won’t be able to get the rest of the humans revived.”

“Don’t panic just yet,” Mip7 said. “The Science Complex is where this thing germinated and multiplied. I’m sorry to recall how I played a significant role in that, as I’m the one who dropped the original Azaarian copy off here to be analyzed. So I’m not all that surprised to see it being played here. It doesn’t mean the game is loose on the general public yet.”

“If not, it’s only a matter of time,” Brandon said. “Probably a short amount of time.”

Mip7 nodded. “I’m afraid you may be right about that. We’ll get your people revived before then. Worse comes to worse, I have enough experience at it now that I can almost handle the procedure myself.”

“Almost?”

“I just need the help of one or two of the scientists. That shouldn’t be too hard to arrange.”

“So you say. If they’re playing it up front, they might all be playing it in back, too, which could mean no one with enough sense to help us is left.”

“Don’t say that,” Mip7 said.

An uncomfortably long time went by, so Mip7 went up to the desk again—where he had to yell at them to break their concentration from the game.

“Have you told Professor Yob3 we are here?”

“Sir, you need to sit in the lobby and wait for him.”

Mip7 returned with a look of disgust. “Brandon, I don’t think these guys even announced us. Let’s just go on back and find him.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” a voice in the corridor behind Mip7 said. Mip7 spun around and Brandon stood up. A figure emerged from the hallway. It was Director Markin1. Three large Amulites followed him into the lobby. Nobody was smiling.

“Director,” Mip7 said, “I’m glad to see you. I think you know why we’re here. Today we begin large-scale resuscitations on the Earthlings. Is everything ready?”

“The only thing ready for the two of you is the exit door,” Markin1 said. “Any further resuscitations will be handled by my department alone, and on our schedule—no one else’s.”

 Mip7 began furiously tapping on his lightpad and said, “Director, we have clearance on this project—”

“Indeed they do, Director,” a voice from behind boomed. Brandon and Mip7 turned back around. It was Commander Olut6, just come into the lobby. He was backed by eight Torians who all looked military. The cavalry had arrived.

“You have no authority here, Commander,” Markin1 said.

“Wrong, sir,” Olut6 replied. “If you care to make a few calls, you’ll discover I have more authority here than you could possibly anticipate. Step aside, Director. You…” he pointed to one of Markin1’s assistants, “take us back to the Earthling network.”

Markin1’s three assistants suddenly didn’t appear so menacing. They looked to Markin1 for confirmation, but he was already on his way to the station behind the reception desk.

“I’ll make those calls, Commander,” Markin1 said.

“I expected you would.” Olut6 turned back to the confused-looking assistant he had picked out and said, “Now.”

The assistant shrugged and turned to walk down the hallway. The other two did the same. Brandon, Mip7, Olut6 and his entourage all followed.

“Nice timing,” Brandon said to Olut6.

“Sorry we’re late, Brandon. You wouldn’t believe the trouble I’m having with military communications right now.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with a game, would it?” Brandon asked.

“I saw it,” Olut6 said. “Up front there. Playing it here, too. Unbelievable, isn’t it? To think a race of beings would start toying around with something from an enemy, something that is destroying an entire enemy race, no less. We must take action to stop this, or the words you spoke at the funeral will prove prophetic. Extat, divisions are already forming. That’s not your problem, though, son—not today, anyway. Today, I’m here to make good on my promise to you.”

“I appreciate it, Commander. I was starting to get worried out there.”

Markin1’s assistants led them by a glass wall which revealed a room where a number of Earthling cryonic chamber tanks had been separated out from the network, at least twenty. Brandon could see they were all currently occupied, still hooked to machines, and many were also hooked to each other. By the look on Mip7’s face when they passed, Brandon got the feeling something didn’t look right there.

The next room was more welcoming. Professor Yob3 and his assistants were working on half a dozen humans, all out on rolling tables next to their empty, open tanks. Markin1’s assistants led everyone into this room. When they were inside, Brandon saw that the six Earthlings being worked on were all females, mostly on the younger side. They were also all attractive—but then again, Brandon hadn’t seen an Earth woman in a very long time, and these were all currently in their underwear.

Yob3 looked up and smiled widely when he saw Brandon and Mip7. He stopped what he was doing, gave some instructions to an assistant, and came over to Brandon.

“So good to see you! You’ve kept yourself occupied since we last parted, haven’t you? Well, I think you’ll like what we’re doing in here.” He pointed to the ladies, who were all still unconscious. They had intravenous tubes connected from portable machines, and small fresh wounds on their necks behind their ears. “These are ready to be transported to their white room.”

“Fantastic,” Brandon said. “Yes, good to see you again, Professor—especially looking so …energetic and attentive. This is wonderful news.” He looked down at the tables and saw two women he thought were especially pretty. It was also interesting to note the difference in style of women’s undergarments from different decades.

Yob3 turned to his assistants and instructed them to move the subjects. They disconnected the tubes from two women and wheeled their tables through a door in the rear corner of the room. Yob3 turned back to Brandon and Mip7.

“We have four functional resuscitation facilities. They are currently wholly dedicated to the Earth subjects. We will revive them in groups of six in each facility. With our current staff and resources, we feel this is maximum operational capacity. Each group should take between three and five days to be habilitated to the point where they can be moved to the Earth colony on C3.”

“Why only six?” Mip7 asked. “Last time we did groups of eight.”

Yob3 shook his head. “And we had some problems with groups that size, remember? We feel six is a more manageable batch size, less likely to inspire disruptive confrontations.”

Mip7 nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. Well, that’s twenty-four every 4-5 days. At this rate, we should be able to get them all revived within ninety days’ time. Assuming no problems.”

“Unfortunately,” Yob3 said, “that may be a big assumption. It will certainly help if we have …assistance.” He eyed Olut6 and his company.

Olut6 spoke. “Well, I can’t camp out here for weeks on end, but these boys can.” He waved an arm towards his eight subordinates. “That’s what I brought them for. I can have a rotating crew here with you for as long as it takes.”

Yob3 nodded and seemed to be appreciative, but Brandon thought he still detected a fair amount of concern from him.

“Professor,” Brandon said, “who are the ones in the room next door?” He pointed to the first room they had passed by. “You have a lot more than six in there. Is that like a line or something, ones you guys pulled that are in preliminary revival maybe?”

Yob3 exchanged grim expressions with Mip7 and then placed a hand on Brandon’s shoulder.

“Those are ones we are having trouble with. Their environment has destabilized, so it is unsafe to revive them at present. We will do what we can, but it may require considerable time and research to recover them, if we can do it at all. I’m sorry.”