Until the Dawn, page 26
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Down in the Lab wing Greg verified that their arrival point was correct, then pushed his chair back from his desk and sighed with a relieved sigh. He put his head into his hands and then wiped sweat from his brow as he continued to breathe deeply for a precious moment. The room erupted with a roar of spontaneous applause from the staff surrounding them – all of whom had been furiously working alongside them throughout the battle. Greg glanced over at Trey and couldn't help but laugh at the triumphant expression on the kid's face.
"You are one smart boy, Trey," he said. "Did you know that? If those guys had managed to board the Waywardsman we would have had a serious disaster on our hands."
"What can I say?" Trey replied jubilantly, smiling from ear to ear through his freckles. "Not only am I charming and charismatic, but I'm intelligent, too. My only flaw is that I don't handle extreme stress very well." Coming from someone else such a statement would have sounded arrogant. From Trey Rem it sounded just plain hilarious.
"That was about as extreme as things can get and you did just fine," Greg pointed out.
"The time off has done me a lot of good," grinned Trey. "After all, I've been lying on my couch for the past couple of weeks with a purring cat sitting on top of my chest. You have no idea how much negative energy that can purge!" He paused to listen as the Captain activated the ship's all-call system.
"Everyone can stand down from General Quarters," Norris stated. "But all on duty officers and pilots should remain at high alert, since the enemy has demonstrated the ability to track us through transit. I doubt they can follow us through a 1,000 light year leap, but you never can tell…" Finished, he let the overhead speakers go quiet.
"That's another thing that has been bugging me," Trey said, raising his right index finger for emphasis. Swiftly, he punched up a number on his Comm-link and waited until he heard the Captain's voice.
"Great job down there, guys and gals. You saved the ship!"
"Thanks, Captain," said Greg. "You should have seen Trey roar in here right in the middle of everything. He showed up barking orders and never let up until we were safe."
"Captain, about that PTP thing you just mentioned," Trey said enthusiastically. "I don't think the enemy can track us through transit… Aaron is incorrect on that one particular detail." He paused for a moment and laughed when he heard his brother's astonished voice.
"I am? They can't?"
"No, they can't," Trey said confidently. "Right before I came down here I was monitoring all of the communications channels, including the telemetry from Dashboard's shuttle patrol." He flashed Greg a quick smile. "Since everything hit the fan as soon as they returned from their scouting patrol, it sure seemed that the enemy could track us at the time. I know your command team hasn't had a chance to talk to the pilots yet or analyze the recorded telemetry since you were all so busy defending the ship."
"Okay… you've got me curious. How did they find us?" Norris asked. "I hope you're not suggesting that they just showed up at such an opportune time by random chance?"
"No they didn't," Trey agreed. "But I think Dashboard will be the first to tell you that there's a hidden passive communications station on that blasted out planet we were sitting next to. It detected our presence, waited until the planet orbited away from us and then sent a quick data burst with our coordinates through a tiny PTP window. So we know they do have that tactical capability, at least – even if their weapons and guidance systems basically suck."
"We're very fortunate that their guidance systems 'suck' and that we got away," decided Norris. "I also think we proved our theory that there's an all-out war going on in that region, and can definitely log the location into the computer catalogue as very dangerous and off-limits for future visits."
"I would appreciate it if you would," Greg decided, wiping more sweat from his forehead. His comment started Trey and the other members of the Laboratory staff laughing, cheering and applauding all over again. He waited until the noise died down and then cautiously asked "How much damage did we take?"
"Very little," William reported. "As I said we were extremely lucky. Jeff reported in to let us know a few stray shots hit the Garden and Livestock wings but they didn't penetrate the inner shielding. As soon as we verify this spot as quiet, Mad Dog will have a crew out on EVA duty to patch up the holes."
"Well, we've got five magnetic grapplers hanging on our side of the ship with their severed cables dangling," Greg commented. "I'd really appreciate it if you'd have the EVA crew remove those for us, too!"
"I'll have them add that to their list," Norris said. "I have one last question for Trey. Your brother up here is confident that the 'universe diagram' transmission we received was not sent to us by any of the factions in that war zone we just left. Would you agree with that?"
"Absolutely I agree with him," decided Trey. "The ship that came after us was a dreadnought in the finest tradition of our original naval sailing vessels. I would speculate that their typical strategy is to board their target like they tried to do with us. If they can't their next effort is to pull alongside their enemy and open fire with all weapons at point blank range in the same manner that our old ships did. If guns fail, their last resort is to try and ram. The winner in that type of all-out cannon battle is the one that doesn't sink."
"I wouldn't exactly define that as winning," the Captain replied. "But it is nice to know that the mystery transmission was sent to us by somebody else – hopefully a very friendly somebody else. Jillian also agrees that the war zone combatants are a definite no. So you can expect that we will call for another Council meeting soon and decide where we're going to travel to next. For now, I think we should let the deck four passengers return to their quarters and give everyone on board a chance to catch their breath."
"That sounds fine with us," said Trey, shutting off the Comm-link. He was totally caught by surprise as Greg got to his feet and hugged him gratefully. "Thanks for your help kid. It's great to have you back."
"Oh I'm not back on a permanent basis. I still have to drop by the Observatory now and then," Trey said, grinning. "They have a really cute brunette girl over there, and I think she really likes me. That kind of unexpected surprise never happened around here, you know."
Greg laughed out loud and lightly whacked Trey on the shoulder with the back of his hand. Both of the marines standing next to the hatchway removed their helmets and came over to shake Trey' hand. "I've never seen anybody run as fast as you did kid," one of them said. "I'm Private Michaels and it's great to know you."
"Where did you learn to run like that?" asked Jacobs, his partner.
"In school, where do you think?" Trey said. "Kids like me have to be fast or they get beat up by really big guys like you." Jacobs grinned and rubbed Trey' head, severely ruffling his hair. Everybody continued laughing as their emotional pressure lessened even more.
Greg decided that it felt really great to be safe again.
Dark Matters For Discussion
UNTIL THE DAWN
Chapter XV: Dark Matters for Discussion
* * *
Dr. Cassie Simon smiled enthusiastically at her two patients. On one side of the room sat Peter Wrangler, their captured Brotherhood spy. Wrangler tentatively held a piece of white sterile gauze to his nose to verify that her attempts to stop the bleeding had worked. He looked very embarrassed and understandably so, since this was now the fifth violent incident he had been involved in. He sat casually in the center of her Medical Ward still wearing his restaurant uniform and bus-boy apron. He pointedly refused to look directly at the person seated opposite him, completely ignoring the man's hate-filled stare.
Cassie carefully checked the bruised left eye of her second patient, Jon Komm. He continued glaring at Wrangler as she carefully verified that none of his cheek bones had been broken in the earlier scuffle between the two men. Unlike Wrangler, Komm was still fuming and red-faced, looking ready to continue his part of the fight at the slightest provocation. The deterrent currently keeping him in check stood firmly near the room's exit… both men wore marine uniforms and looked very annoyed at this latest disruption to ship's security.
"Why don't you try and settle down, Mr. Komm," Cassie suggested. "I don't think anything is broken, but you'll have to deal with the pain for a day or two until the bruise on your eye begins to heal."
"Can't you give me something for the pain?" Komm asked unpleasantly.
"Oh, I think a tough guy like you can take a little discomfort," she replied nonchalantly. "Or you wouldn't be starting fights, now would you?" She carefully touched a fresh, cold cloth to the darkening bluish-black bruise under his eye and he flinched.
"You're a member of our new Council," growled Komm. "So this is as much your fault as anyone. You're supposed to be leading us and yet you allow a known enemy to walk freely among us."
"He is not a free man, Mr. Komm," Cassie said. "And he has you for a neighbor. From your attitude I would guess that means he's under a careful neighborhood watch… whenever you're at home, anyway."
"Are you mocking me?" he snarled.
"No," she replied with a smile. "I'm not mocking you… or your faith." He flinched again, this time at her remark and not from the injury.
"What do you know about my faith?" he demanded.
"Oh, a lot actually," she commented. "You've been telling everyone on the ship what a deeply religious person you are and how your God is great and everyone else's is false. There are only 897 people aboard, so word gets around… especially when you make your points so often and so loudly." He started to say something but one look from her quieted him. "Me," she continued, "I'm a healer, so I spend most of my time listening to people. Life and experience have both taught me that you can get a much better sense of just who a person is by what he does as opposed to what he says he does."
"Oh really?" Komm said snidely.
"That's right," she said, carefully placing a large gauze bandage over his eye. "I checked my work station when you were brought in. This is your tenth trip to our Medical Ward in the two months that we've been out in space." She glanced quickly at the information on her console. "Headaches, upset stomach, lower back pain from hauling the heavy equipment in the hangar bay, etc. etc."
"It's a really tough job down there, especially when we were bringing all that mineral rock aboard."
"Oh, I'm sure," Cassie said. "But there are dozens of other people working right alongside you and I haven't had a single visit from any of them." She grabbed him firmly by the chin and glared into his good eye. "That tells me you like taking full advantage of the free health care offered on board this ship. Your loud-mouthed complaining about other peoples' faith tells me that you're insecure about your own. And… your claim to be a devout religious person tends to fall a little flat when you're brought in here injured because you tried to start a fight in a restaurant with one of your peers."
"He's a member of that Brotherhood!" Komm said, pointing at the man sitting quietly across from him. "His people annihilated ours. For God's sake, how can you…"
"I'm a member of the new Council, remember?" she pointed out, letting go of his chin. "That means I'm someone who can and will bear witness against you for unprovoked, aggravated assault should this incident go to a trial."
"Oh, come on!" he protested. "You can't seriously be saying that this murderer has the same rights as everybody else?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying," said Dr. Simon, looking very angry herself. "The Captain has ordered that rule of law will prevail on this ship. The Council and I freely voted to offer a partial pardon to this man in exchange for his future good behavior. He has also generously agreed to stop by now and then so that I can study him and learn more about the mysterious culture he comes from."
"He is not my peer!" Komm screamed.
"According to my tests, he is," said Cassie. "He's a man in much better shape than you are, by the way." She glanced over at Wrangler and gestured for him to stand up. "Peter, will you please repeat the strength test that you demonstrated for me yesterday morning?"
Wrangler had been sitting quietly minding his own business. He looked at her hesitantly and said, "Are you sure? I don't exactly see what that will prove?"
"Go ahead and show us," Dr. Simon insisted. "We have plenty of furniture here on board the Waywardsman."
Wrangler shrugged and stood up. He walked over to the back of the room and tipped over one of the heavy wooden tables set along the back wall. A few scattered papers, pens, and clipboards on the table's surface slid and fell to the floor as he did so. Peter firmly grabbed one of the table legs – the cylinder of wood was at least 3 inches thick – and pulled it effortlessly loose. Komm and both marines watched in astonishment as the cloned human carefully held up the heavy piece of wood and snapped it in half as easily as most people would break a pretzel stick. He continued by snapping the table leg into neat, 12 inch lengths and finished his demonstration by taking one of the 12 inch pieces and also breaking it cleanly down the middle. He dropped the two pieces he was holding onto the floor and silently returned to his seat.
Cassie turned back to Komm and noted his terrified expression. "The next time you decide to pick a fight with Mr. Wrangler, you might want to remember this little incident. He may not be able to control his emotions and may seriously injure you." She pointed to the door. "We're all done, Mr. Komm. If you put a clean bandage on your eye tomorrow morning, I'm pretty sure you'll live." He paused to glare with hostility at her this time. "I'd change that bad attitude of yours, and fast," she suggested, noticing his rage. "Uncontrolled hatred is going to get you into major trouble on this ship." She watched him walk out of the room and then quietly returned her attention to Wrangler.
"I'm okay," he insisted, tossing the gauze from his nose into a wastebasket. "Really, Doctor, the bleeding has stopped so I'd better get back to work. I promised the Captain…"
"Your promise was to the Council," she corrected him, easing him back into his seat. "And I seem to have to keep pointing out to people that I'm a member of it." She turned toward the marine guards. "Please, wait outside. My patient has a right to confidentiality."
"Yes, ma'am… just call if you need us," one of them said as both men left the room.
"I'm all right, really," Wrangler insisted, a little too heatedly for her taste. She reached over to activate a portable tape recorder and set it on the table next to her. Peter looked at her a bit defiantly. "Are you going to do some more MRIs and X-Rays, or do I get a day off?"
"I know the Mirikon supplements we've issued have stopped most of the hallucinations people have been having," she said, completely ignoring his sarcasm. "How about your dreams – have they stopped also?"
"Most of them," he replied. "The nightmares, at least."
She sat quietly, unsure of what to say next. "Peter, what your people did…".
"What my people did was wrong," he said. "I know that now, but I wasn't privy to a whole lot of the 'master plan' during my time on Earth. And if I had known that nuclear war was the end game, I sincerely might have tried to do something about it. That's what no one on this ship can possibly understand unless they've lived in the Brotherhood and experienced it for themselves. Some of my people have some very sinister ideas about our society and its right to control Earth, Doctor. Others don't."
"Why don't those others protest?"
"My people speak with a unified voice," he replied, looking down at the floor. "Both you and the Captain know at least part of my secret now, but you haven't seen our system actually function. The Triumvirate wants the human clones to feel and experience emotion… they monitor it very carefully, studying and processing it as raw data. We are evaluated regularly as we mature and taught to reject the feelings that don't suit the Triumvirate's purposes. What you call love, happiness, and compassion are simply emotional states that it can use to tempt us. Then we gradually learn how to use those emotions as tools to ensnare other people holding key positions."
"You still could have voiced your opinion," the Doctor insisted. "As could others."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "Like I said, you haven't seen the process, Dr. Simon." He looked at the ceiling and his eyes filled with tears. "Many of us have tried to object to our tasks and assignments, even discussed it with each other. I've had conversations with fellow Brotherhood members – almost all of whom at some point took a moment to voice dissent or even simple doubts about our plans to infiltrate other nations so that we could extort or simply take from them. After speaking to those who disagreed I've literally seen them met by soldiers and taken away to be executed… the Triumvirate eavesdrops on everything. The only reason that I survived was due to my 'top of the class' ranking. They knew I was highly skilled, and that persistent efforts to manipulate my emotions would eventually pay off. I'm telling you, the Triumvirate observes the emotional process in its clones, studies it, and then works to shut it down in the same way you would when you turn off a faucet because you've got enough water in your sink."
