The Genius Asylum: Sic Transit Terra Book 1 (23 page)

Singh shook his head. “Not transparent. If Spiro were transparent, he would be blind, and we haven’t heard him screaming, have we?”

Holchuk could think of many possible reasons for not hearing Gouryas scream. Before he could share any of them, however, Ruby got on the comm.

“Spiro, are you all right?” she demanded urgently.

“I’m fine,” he assured them. “Still seeing purple. Has there been any change out there?”

“You might say so,” Singh replied. “From our perspective, the Zoo is invisible. A purple flash and it was gone.”

“Are you serious?” Gouryas demanded excitedly. “Our theory was correct? Excellent!”

“Actually, it was
my
theory,” Singh corrected him.

Smith was visibly losing patience. “Would one of you be good enough to let me know what the hell is going on here?”

“The color purple was the key,” Singh explained. “Back on Daisy Hub, I hypothesized that the generator would create a field around Zulu, and that the paintbrush would establish its parameters,” said Singh. “Apparently, I was right. The paintbrush creates its palette of colors by altering the refractive index of whatever it’s aimed at. If the refractive index is such that it bends light around the affected surface, then the color becomes—”

“—invisible!” Smith’s face lit up with understanding. “So it’s an invisibility field. And we can recreate it on Daisy Hub?”

Singh nodded.

“Not so fast, Jason,” warned Gouryas. “Invisibility may come at a price. Remember what the paintbrush did to our bulkheads? Let’s see what happens when I disconnect it from the generator.”

Chapter 36

Teri Martin
was still a star. The transformation from resident wildcat to visiting celebrity that Drew had witnessed on Zulu had been no more than a tantalizing glimpse. Onstage, in a succession of sequined and feathered costumes and spotlighted against a cleverly designed moving set, she was clearly in her element. Teri Martin glittered. She sparkled. She sang and danced and joked and strutted. She radiated an energy that was positively contagious. And for two and a half hours, she had fifteen Rangers and thirty-three of her crewmates eating out of her hand.

In AdComm, Drew, Lydia, and the Doc watched the show by remote vidcam. Even on a forty-centimeter surveillance screen, it was impressive. Quan might suspect that the invitation was part of a con, but he would still have to admit that Teri’s performance that evening had been worth the trip.

She had planned to do one encore. As it began, Lydia sent a signal to the incursion team. They would have to coordinate their return to Daisy Hub with the departure of the Rangers’ shuttles in order to remain undetected.

Ten minutes later, Teri’s encore was over. As she took her final bow, the audience rose to their feet, applauding enthusiastically. All but one — Nestor Quan. Major Cisco remained firmly seated, arms crossed over his chest, an expression of mild annoyance on his face.

“He’s just a ray of sunshine, isn’t he?” Drew muttered, only half to himself. “We feed them, we entertain them…”

Beside him, the Doc snorted, “He’s probably upset because there really was a stuffed toy rat in the show.”

“You said earlier that they were research partners, Doc,” said Drew thoughtfully. “Equal partners?”

She nodded. “Nayo shared everything with him. He was a very generous man.”

“So the patents were jointly owned. That means Quan couldn’t have sold them by himself; Naguchi had to sign them over as well. I’m curious, Doc.”

She gave him a regretful smile. “You have many questions. I wish I had the answers, Mr. Townsend. All I know is that three representatives of the purchasing corporation paid Nayo a visit at home one evening. When they left, they had his thumbprint on a sales contract. Nayo wouldn’t talk about what had happened that night, and I would rather not try to imagine it. He meant a lot to me. One week later, he was on his way to Daisy Hub, with Yoko. I never saw him again.”

Now, finally, the pieces were starting to fall into place. “So, when you learned that Nestor Quan had been appointed as Daisy Hub’s Disease Control Officer…?”

“I knew exactly what he was after,” she said, her lips a hyphen of remembered determination. “Nayo Naguchi was deeply respected by his colleagues in the scientific community. I called in some favors on his behalf and got that little predator detoured before he could arrive here.”

Interesting. So Drew Townsend wasn’t the only one on the Hub with friends in high places.

“I would still like to know how a research scientist representing the interests of a Greater European genetics corporation ended up in command of this particular Ranger detachment. That took connections.”

“He’s using an assumed name,” the Doc reminded him. “Maybe he conned someone.”

Or maybe, just maybe, Quan’s appointment had come from the same place as his own — the covert security branch of the Space Installation Authority.
Turn him or terminate him.
Drew’s instructions had been clear. But the timing, the timing was everything.

“Maybe. And maybe he ran the con because after five years of trying, he finally realized that Nestor Quan was being actively prevented from reaching Daisy Hub,” Drew remarked. “However he did it, Doc, he’s here now, and he’s given us a major problem.”

“Drew!” Lydia cut in excitedly. “We just received a commburst from
Devil Bug
. The team found Captain Bonelli on Zulu, gravely wounded. Ruby managed to stop the bleeding, and they’re bringing him back here for treatment, but she’s afraid he may not make it. Before losing consciousness he told her that a ninja tried to kill him.”

So much for taking the “spy and traitor” back to Earth for trial.

Drew and the Doc exchanged a meaningful look. “You know,” he said, “if Quan does have the authority to search the station, we’re going to have to find another hiding place for Yoko, and probably for Steve Bonelli as well.”

“First things first, Mr. Townsend,” she advised him. “First, I have to get some of Bonelli’s stem cells out of cryo and save his life. Then we can worry about hiding him from Nestor Quan.”

Behind them, Lydia cleared her throat. “Our guests are leaving, Drew, but Major Cisco is hanging back.”

“Waiting for the host to say a formal goodbye, no doubt,” he sighed, heading for the tube car. As the Doc had said, first things first. First, they had to send the ninja back to Zulu so that the mission team could return, hopefully undetected.

Quan was waiting for him on A Deck, either unaware or unconcerned that he was being closely watched by ten burly men and several surveillance vidcams. As Drew stepped out of the tube car, the little man bowed and said, “On behalf of the entire detachment, I wish to thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Townsend. It was a delicious dinner and a very entertaining performance. Please give our compliments to your crew for a fine evening.”

He certainly knew the right words to say. It was a shame that was all they were to him — words.

“We’re glad you enjoyed yourselves, Major.” Automatically, the rest of the formulaic response rose into his mouth — ‘Please come back again soon.’ — but Drew bit down and swallowed it.

“The next time I visit, I’ll come alone so that we can conclude the business that remains between us.”

“There is no business between us,” Drew corrected him pleasantly.
And
therefore no need to visit.

Quan began again, in a sterner voice, “The people we both work for—”

“Wrong again, ‘Major’,” Drew informed him coldly. “I answer to the Space Installation Authority, and I can’t imagine you working for anyone but yourself.” Behind him, he sensed Orvy Hagman and his men, sniffing trouble and forming up once again to head it off. If necessary, this guest would be bodily delivered into the airlock of his ship.

The ninja spent a moment considering his options. Drew could practically hear him mentally checking them off. Then, “What a shame that such a cordial evening must end on a discordant note,” sighed Quan. “Good evening, Mr. Townsend, gentlemen…” And he wheeled and stepped through the docking archway.

First things first, Drew reminded himself. First, get Quan off the station and on his way back to Zulu. Get the mission team back on the Hub and Bonelli into Med Services. Later, there would probably be hell to pay. Right now, however, Townsend had other things to worry about.

As the archway door slid shut on their final guest, Drew heard noisy exhalations behind him.
And the dominos keep
falling.

Chapter 37

Lydia spun
in her seat as Drew stepped off the tube car in AdComm.

“They’re away,” she told him. “And
Devil Bug
is on its way back home. Ruby sounded excited. They must have discovered something besides Captain Bonelli.” A pause, then, “You look tired, Drew. It’ll be a three-hour wait, at least. Why don’t you go grab a nap? I’ll let you know the second they dock.”

He didn’t even have to think about it. Sleep? Not a chance. When Quan returned to Zulu and discovered that Bonelli was gone, he would put two and two together — and probably get twenty-two. Lydia might have to send that mayday to the Nandrians after all.

“I think I’d rather grab a java,” he decided. “Have the shuttle dock first on A Deck — Bonelli may not have the time it’ll take for the Meniscus Field to cycle.”

It had been a very long day for everyone on Daisy Hub; and for anyone involved with Teri’s show, it wasn’t over yet. K Deck had to be transformed back into a storage area. All those seats had to be returned to the caf. If Fritz and his assistants had been in Teri’s audience, they still had to clean up after the buffet dinner and prepare the kitchen for breakfast. Fortunately, Drew was the boss and could ask for a cup of java whenever he wanted. Of course, he would probably have to drink it standing up, but under the circumstances, standing would probably be easier for him.

Drew stepped out of the tube car on D Deck, thumbed the enter switch beside the caf door, and stood poised on the threshold, blinking in confusion.

This late at night, the caf should have been empty, or close to it. Instead, the room was full of people, sitting in groups of three and four around Fritz Jensen’s round tables. Many of them were holding java mugs. All of them had fallen silent and turned curious eyes on him the instant he appeared in the doorway. For an uncomfortable moment, all he could do was stare back at them. Then one of the dockworkers — Racine? Kowalski? — jumped up and wordlessly offered him a seat.

With a nod of thanks, Drew took it. At the same time, a cup of steaming hot java seemed to materialize in front of him. As he eased himself wearily into the chair, Drew swore he could hear the entire room exhale.

“Any word, Mr. Townsend?” called out an anxious female voice.

Still not daring to believe what was apparently happening here, he replied, “They’re on their way home, and so far the Rangers haven’t detected them.”

“No news is good news, then,” declared the man across the table from him. A second later, Drew recalled who he was — Mossman, External Hub Maintenance.

Drew lifted his cup halfway to his mouth, then changed his mind and said, “Don’t take this the wrong way, people, but… What are you all doing here at this hour?”

Nervous laughter rippled through the room. Across the table, Mossman flashed him a grin. “Waiting for the young’uns to get home from their date, of course,” he said. “We wouldn’t be able to sleep until we knew they were back safe.”

Of course. He should have known. And if Drew’s teen years had included such ordinary things as going on dates and returning home late to concerned parents, he would have known. Mustering a responding smile and forcing lightness into his voice, he asked, “Are you going to do this every time someone goes out on a mission?”

“That depends,” came the reply from somewhere behind him. “Are there going to be more missions?”

Drew was spared from having to answer by the sound of the caf door opening. Teri Mintz strolled into the room, fresh-faced and clad in a dressing gown. The entire caf burst into spontaneous applause, prompting her to take a couple of bows.

“Great show, Teri!”

“Encore, encore!”

Beaming, she sashayed over to Drew’s table, where Mossman had pulled up another chair for her and someone had produced another cup of java. Teri took and savored a sip of Jensen’s brew, then said quietly, “So now we wait. Is everyone all right?”

“What she really means is, is Gavin all right,” declared Lu, triggering a chorus of whistles and catcalls as he broke into an off-key rendition of ‘That Man of Mine’.

Teri’s eyes were dancing. Turning to face him, she got to her feet and, chin elevated in a parody of royal dignity, announced, “The peasants had better be careful what they say about a member of the Fifth Shield.”

A roar of laughter erupted briefly and subsided as she sat down again. “So, did you get to watch any of the show?” she asked Drew. “Tell me what you thought about it, honestly.”

For the next while, the Daisy Hub crew sat in the caf, chatting and drinking java and losing track of the time until Drew’s wristcomm bleeped at him.

It was Lydia. Two words. “They’re home.”

Chapter 38

Drew went
directly to A Deck from the caf, accompanied by as many of his crew as could fit into the tube car with him, and found Doc Ktumba already there. She had brought an anti-grav gurney and all the whole blood Bonelli’s stem cells had been able to generate, and was muttering impatiently under her breath as she waited for the archway doors to open.

Finally, they parted. Drew and the others stayed back, allowing the Doc to board with her medical gear. Over the years he’d spent as a field investigator, Drew had seen plenty of broken bodies. When Smith and Holchuk emerged with Bonelli on the gurney and Ktumba right behind, Townsend knew, with dreadful certainty, that the Ranger was near death.

So did the Doc. “Get this man to Med Services right now!” she snapped. Instantly, Hagman and Mossman stepped forward and took over propelling the gurney into the tube car.

Moments later, Drew was barking orders and — miracle of miracles — watching his crew jump to follow them. “I want the mission team in AdComm for debriefing in half an hour and the rest of you either in your quarters or in the caf,” he decided. “Lydia, Ruby needs to park
Devil Bug
on the primary landing deck and join us in AdComm as soon as she can.”

“I hear you, Chief,” called Ruby through the archway. “Okay, everybody out, shoo! And take your toys with you.”

Singh and Gouryas emerged, laden down with gadgets and grinning from ear to ear. Clearly, the mission had been a success. Drew waved them impatiently toward the tube car door. O’Malley was the one he wanted to talk to.

The ratkeeper was the last one out. Drew stepped forward and laid a hand on his arm. “I need you to check something in the databases,” he muttered urgently. “It’s important.”

Thirty minutes later, Drew was on his way to AdComm when his wristcomm bleeped at him again. “Drew,” said Lydia’s voice, “the Doc needs you in Med Services, immediately.”

He’d been afraid of this. Bonelli’s face had been so pale, his uniform so bloodied…. Reaching for the override button on the tube car’s control pad, Drew replied, “Tell her I’m on my way.”

“Finally, you’re here,” declared the Doc as Drew stepped into the Trauma Clinic. “Captain Bonelli regained consciousness once I’d infused him. Now he won’t let me anesthetize him for surgery until he’s spoken with you.”

“Hey, Snooper,” said Bonelli, his voice barely a whisper. His color was a little better, but that was all.

“Spike,” Townsend acknowledged. “You’re in pretty bad shape. What happened over there?”

The Ranger essayed a grin. “The new commander arrived. His creds looked suspicious to me, so I checked them against the database. He didn’t like that. Used a lot of body language to make his point. Then you called to invite everybody to the concert. You asked for me, so I knew you had no idea this guy was coming, and you should have, if he was legit. Later, he caught me on the long-range comm, using that.”

Too weak to point, Bonelli turned his head and stared at the tray beside his medbed. Drew followed his gaze and saw a familiar looking black cylinder with ridges along half its length. An EIS encryption device.

“He ordered me to turn it over to him,” Bonelli continued, “and I refused. Then he mopped the floor with me.” Noticing the expression on Drew’s face, the Ranger added, “Hey, this was a major operation. You didn’t honestly believe they would send you out here all alone, without providing emergency backup?”

Actually, that was exactly what Drew had thought. Correction — it was what he’d been led to believe. But Bonelli’s question was rhetorical, so he let it go and asked instead, “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Couldn’t. Orders. Your response to me had to be genuine. I have to tell you, kid, I had no idea you were still that angry.”

“Make it fast, gentlemen,” cut in the Doc. “Captain Bonelli has serious internal injuries. I need to get him into surgery as soon as possible.” Drew glanced up, startled to realize that Ktumba had been standing there, overhearing their entire conversation. As though reading his mind, she informed him curtly, “Doctor-patient privilege, Mr. Townsend. Nothing you say leaves this room. Unless you talk him to death. Then all bets are off.”

Drew faced Bonelli again and said urgently, “You set me up, Spike. Cost me five years of my life.”

“I know. That was the plan. Ratting you out wasn’t my idea, kid. They wanted you off the street and completing your education. You were no good to them without your Eligibility.”

“Them?”

Another faint quirking of Bonelli’s lips. “You were hand-picked. So was I. So was everyone on the Hub. And the Zoo. They just don’t realize it. On the shuttle, I overheard things. They’re good people, Townsend. They’ve earned the right to know the truth. Tell them what they’re doing out here. Then figure out a way to get that ninja off Zulu. Lieutenant Rodrigues is my second. A good man. He’ll work with you until the EIS can send a replacement.”

“All right, that’s enough,” said the Doc. “Mr. Townsend, I believe you’re late for a meeting…?”

As he walked out of Trauma and toward the tube car, something that Bonelli had said stuck in his mind — for an important operation, there had to be backup. As well, as Townsend had pointed out earlier to Holchuk, tests had to be overseen, experiments observed.

The Meniscus Field generators had been placed on Daisy Hub and on Zulu to be tinkered with. Earth Council had to have placed someone on the Hub to monitor the activities of the engineers and techs. So who was it? If both entire crews had been hand-picked by the EIS, who did that leave? The station manager. And who had arrived on Daisy Hub at the same time as the field generator was being installed?

Karim Khaloub. So the ‘unlikely choice’ had been working undercover after all. That explained why he’d needed Lydia’s surveillance skills.

Bonelli had known from the beginning that Drew Townsend was a fellow EIS operative. Drew went back over everything the Ranger had said to him, recalling:

“If a real threat to security ever arose, I’d say we’re equipped to handle it.” He hadn’t been talking about security around the Meniscus Field generator installation. He’d been talking about anyone who came to the station who wasn’t cleared by the EIS.

Pieces were falling into place now. Khaloub’s death might have been an accident, but it was a happy accident. Or was it? The entire system was watchdogged — but there was someone aboard Daisy Hub who could get past the watchdogs, who had practiced in the SPA room.

Did Robert O’Malley have an EIS encryption device too?

And if everyone aboard the Hub was there because Earth Intelligence had put them there, and the EIS had ordered the hit on Karim Khaloub, then what about Gavin Holchuk? The Chief Cargo Inspector had spent years blaming the Relocation Authority for his wife’s death and his daughter’s disappearance. What if the tragedy had actually been engineered by Earth Intelligence?

Ugly questions. They left a distinctly bitter taste in Townsend’s mouth. It was too late to ask Bonelli about any of this — the Ranger would be in surgery for some time. Even if he weren’t, he might not have the answers Drew needed, since the EIS kept its operatives on a need-to-know basis. Maybe, for the sake of his mission and the ongoing security of Daisy Hub, Townsend should do the same. Bonelli had been right about one thing — it was time to tell the crew of Daisy Hub why they were there. How they had gotten there was another matter, something Drew would just have to keep to himself for now.