The Lazarus War: Legion (26 page)

“Is it over?” Kaminski asked. Like me, he was bathed in sweat, and uncharacteristically for Kaminski he didn’t seem to be smiling.

“I think so,” I said.

The admiral was still looking over data from the display. He rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

“Those ships could have been part of a larger fleet,” he said, slowly. “And who the fuck sent that transmission?” He turned to one of his comms officers. “Do we have a trace on it yet? I can’t believe one of my crew would be stupid enough to send a transmission during a dark order.”

“Whoever it was, they must’ve been in a damned hurry to get information off this ship,” Martinez whispered. “Weren’t comms supposed to be shut down while we are in the Maelstrom?”

“You remembered the safety briefing…” I said.

“I try,
jefe
,” Martinez said with a shrug.

There was a brief pause while the comms officer worked.

“Status on the trace is a positive. It was an encrypted neutrino transmission, sent from somewhere in the lab deck. I have a fix on the terminal location.”

Loeb read something from his command console. His face remained fixed, but I could see that the findings concerned him. He glared at me again.

“I’m retiring to my quarters. Major Harris, Captain Williams – your presence is requested.”

Then he stormed out of the CIC, scattering officers and service personnel in his wake.

I’d hardly noticed the Warfighters throughout the incident. They stood at the bulkhead door to the CIC, all cockiness and certainty drained from their faces.

The Krell changed everything.

They always did.

The arrival, and subsequent disappearance, of the war-fleet could only mean one thing: that they were looking for something. Damascus Space was a dangerous pocket of the Maelstrom; as perilous to the Krell as to Alliance forces. It was surely not an area regularly patrolled by the Krell. So, the question remained: what were the Krell doing out here?

Loeb prowled the edge of his stateroom, tossing his cap onto his desk, then dragged out a chair. He noisily threw himself into it. I stood in front of his desk, a Navy lieutenant on one side of me, Williams on the other.

Loeb’s answer to the Krell problem was blunt and uncomplicated.

“We’re pulling out.”

“Impossible,” I said. “We have unfulfilled orders. We can’t leave yet.”

And more than that, Elena is waiting for me inside the Artefact
. It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t been able to touch her with my real body; that our only contact had been simulated. The idea that she might be stolen away from me, that Loeb might abandon the mission, made me feel sick to the stomach.

“Get me a scotch on the rocks,” Loeb barked.

The lieutenant jumped to action, pouring liquor from a decanter and
clink-clinking
ice cubes into a glass. The sound alone gave me a thirst.

“Our mission was to secure the Artefact,” I said. “And there is no way I’m leaving Damascus Space until we’ve achieved that objective.”

“Things have changed,” Loeb countered. “My orders were to provide Naval support to this operation. I’ve dutifully executed the same.”

“Then I’ll overrule you. I’m mission commander.”

“I know exactly what you are. I’ve read the damned debriefings. We’re out of communication with the
Point
. Considering your impaired psychiatric condition, I could have you detained for further evaluation. I’m not going to do that, yet, but I am calling time on this operation.”

“You can’t do that!”

“I can do whatever I damned well please, Major. This is my ship, and I am fleet commander of the Damascus battlegroup. Don’t make me pull rank on you. I have a duty to inform Command of what we’ve just seen. The only way to relay that information is to jump back to the
Point
and deliver the news in person. Given the circumstances that is the only method that we have available.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” I said. “It has nothing to do with method.”

Loeb had made plain that he’d wanted off Operation Portent from the start. I remembered our conversation in this very room, only a few days ago. Loeb had been looking for justification to withdraw from Damascus Space and now he finally had it. The arrival of the Krell war-fleet was perfect.

Loeb saw the way that my mind was working. “Sending a tightbeam communication to the
Point
from inside the Maelstrom is too risky, what with that Krell war-fleet roving around the galactic neighbourhood. No; going back in person is the only way.”

He gave a self-satisfied, smug smile. If someone inside Command did have the gall to investigate his decision, he’d already planned his defence.

“We’re on the verge of cracking the Artefact. I just need a little more time!”

“Time is the one thing that we don’t have,” Loeb said. “The
Point
needs to be informed immediately—”

“Then send a single ship back. Repurpose one of the freighters! The
Northern Pledge
has a fast Q-drive.”

Loeb’s eyes were steely cold: he’d already made up his mind. “The War is on again,” he said. “The only way to crush this problem is a full-scale show of force. Not cloak-and-dagger tactics, not reliance on new-fangled technologies, and certainly not through exploiting the remains of some aeons-old xenos’ wreck.”

He thrust his finger at the view-port, at the Artefact outside. I had to consciously avoid looking at it, because even the suggestion of the Artefact made my data-ports ache. Tired as I was, I wanted to be back out there all over again.

Williams fidgeted uncomfortably beside me.

“I agree with the admiral,” he said. “I’m sorry, man, but I didn’t sign up for this.”

“What exactly did you sign up for?” I shouted.

Williams had demonstrated that he was no Legionnaire. His words to me, when we’d first met, echoed in my mind: “I’m only interested in the glory work.” Sailing through the Maelstrom, in the midst of a Krell fleet of such magnitude: there wasn’t much glory in that.

He pulled a face. “Just not this. That was a big fleet, man. Got to be a serious security risk. The
Point
should know about it.”

Loeb took in the exchange: savouring the animosity between Williams and me. “There’s more, and maybe worse,” he said. “Much worse.”

Worse than leaving Elena aboard the Artefact? Worse than abandoning her in deep-space for a second time?

“Saul is part of the problem,” Loeb said. “Professor Saul sent that transmission.”

His words shook me from my pit of frustration. He slid a print-out in front of me: I scanned it, but couldn’t focus on the contents. Transmission logs – encrypted messages being sent from the
Colossus
.

USER NAME: SAUL, ASHAN (PROF).

I guessed what was coming. Fought to stay standing.

Compromised
. That was Elena’s word.

Loeb went on: “Saul has sent several communications through the lab deck. He’s been using the FTL transmitter, employing an encryption algorithm used by them.” Loeb’s face looked almost smug as the words tripped off his tongue. “Saul is Directorate. He has been sending his research to an unknown receiver somewhere beyond the QZ.”

“That fucking bastard…” Williams muttered in disbelief.

This was too much. How could it be happening again? The Asiatic Directorate seemed to have agents everywhere, always one step ahead of me. Always under my skin. In some terrible way, it made sense – was completely explicable. This was Dr Kellerman all over again. Sci-Div seemed to be the vulnerable underbelly of the Alliance military complex: an easy target, filled with little men and their personal schemes.

“And so, you see, even if I wanted to continue this operation, I have no choice. I’m ordering the arrest of Professor Saul. Don’t make me add your name to the detention warrant, Major. We’re taking Saul back; he can be Mili-Intel’s problem.”

“I want to speak with him,” I said. “I need to know what he has been doing out here.”

“Once he’s in custody, by all means. Preparations for launch back to the
Point
will take some time. You have two days to undertake whatever further investigations you want. But I’m prohibiting any further expeditions to the Artefact.” Loeb looked at me levelly, predicting my response. “Don’t try anything silly. We can all walk away from this with some dignity.”

The hint of a smile played at the edge of Loeb’s lips, but I didn’t see anything funny in what was happening.

“Dismissed. Both of you.”

I stormed out of Loeb’s quarters, in the blackest mood I’d experienced since our arrival in Damascus Space. Williams followed behind me.

“Maybe this is for the best,” he said, with a tone bordering on joviality, like the news was a relief to him. “It’ll be good to get back to
Liberty Point
. Maybe I’ll buy you a drink—”

I turned on my heels and grasped at the collar of his fatigues. In a single motion, I lifted him off his feet and pushed him hard against the wall.

The pounding in my head was becoming overwhelming. It was all I could do to keep my rage in check; not to take it out on the worthless trooper. Williams scrambled and gasped. I enjoyed the look in his eyes – the realisation that even old and skinless, I was a force to be reckoned with.

“Shut the fuck up, Williams, or I’ll finish what Kaminski started.”

“Yeah, man…I…understand—” he stammered.

“That’s just it: you don’t understand. You don’t understand at all.”

“C…copy you, man,” Williams managed. “I mean – sir.”

“You done?” came a voice behind me.

I held Williams for a long second. Let the anger drain out of me. I eventually let him go. He slid down the wall, to his feet.

“Just about,” I hissed.

Jenkins stood at the end of the corridor. She gave me a disapproving look.

“If you boys have finished…” she said.

Williams ducked out from underneath me. He smoothed his fatigues, ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll see if I can help with that arrest,” he said. “I’ll let you know what the Marines say, sir.”

“You do that, Captain,” Jenkins said. “I’ll take care of the major.”

Williams disappeared off down the corridor, shaking his head.

“Was any of that really necessary?” Jenkins asked me.

“I’ve had enough of that asshole. Captain or not. Cole promised me the best; instead I get unmotivated fuckers like that.”

“Yeah, well. Seems like I pick them.”

“Loeb is pulling the plug. We have two days to wrap things up. No more expeditions to the Artefact.”

“I know. He sent a directive a few minutes ago. Figured you might need someone to talk to.”

She meant well, but there was nothing that my crew could do to help me. What could I really do? Mutiny was a fleeting, fantastical possibility. But even if I skinned up, even if I managed to persuade the rest of my team that this was the right thing to do, Loeb still controlled the
Colossus
.

“Is she all right?” I said.

“You mean Mason?”

“Of course I mean Mason.”

“Nice of you to ask. Seems like your priorities have been elsewhere recently.”

“Don’t start with me, Jenkins.”

“Mason hasn’t been right for a long time. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“I mean it,” Jenkins said. “She’s been struggling.”

“So what’s her condition?”

“She’s in a coma; possible neurological feedback. The medtechs think she needs proper attention back at the
Point
.”

“She’ll live,” I said. “She is no reason to leave.”

“She
might
live. No promises, but she’s stable for now.”

“Aboard the Artefact,” I asked, “did you see her? Did you see Elena?”

“I thought that this was about Mason, not Elena,” Jenkins tutted. But she knew that response wouldn’t be enough for me, and added: “I was behind you, and my bio-scanner couldn’t reach so far into the structure—”

“Did you see her?” I asked again, my voice rising to a near shout.

She shook her head. “There was nothing there, Harris. My scanner was empty.”

I followed Jenkins to the mess hall, where the remains of the Lazarus Legion waited.

Kaminski and Martinez occupied the recreation room, just off the main hall, and Jenkins had abandoned a half-eaten meal in one corner. When I entered the hall, the rest of the team stopped: eyes on me. A couple of Navy officers darted out of the door. Eager to avoid me.

“It’s over,” I said. “Loeb wants to recall the fleet.”

“That was expected, after what we saw today,” Martinez said.

He was talking sense; but I wasn’t interested in sense. I was interested in results.

“We heard that Saul is in custody,” Kaminski said. There was no surprise in his voice and the words were spoken with an undercurrent of disappointment, like he had always expected someone on the team to be a traitor.

“With Mason in the infirmary,” Martinez said, “maybe, just maybe, this is for the best. She needs help.”

I pulled a chair from under the table, slumped into it. Put my head in my hands. I wanted a drink now more than ever: needed something to numb the pain in my head, my heart and my data-ports. Beneath all that, my rage flowed like the tides of the Maelstrom. Jenkins’ eyes flashed towards Kaminski; a barely perceptible gesture that spoke of joint concern. The idea that they might’ve been talking about me, might’ve shared worries, made me even angrier.

I shook my head. “Elena was concerned that I’d been compromised. Maybe the operation was compromised from the start…”

“Leave it, Harris!” Jenkins said. “We gave it our best shot. It’s over.”

“Elena wants out,” I said. “I can help her. She wants me to activate the Artefact. I’ll do it with or without your help. I’m not leaving this place.”

The Legion said nothing. I sat back in the chair, looked into the eyes of each of them. I realised then that I didn’t care any more whether they believed me or not.