The Expendable Few: A Spinward Fringe Novel (17 page)

“He died while Doctor Marcelles was trying to reprogram the neural net Intelligence installed,” Doctor Anderson said as he looked up from his reader.

“Yes, Sir,” Remmy replied quietly. He took a seat across from him, feeling guilty at his enjoyment of the plush seat. His friends were still on Uumen, in squalor. “Doctor Marcelles tried everything, but the Freeground Intelligence safeguards did too much damage.”

“Well, the evidence confirms your report from one end to the other,” Doctor Anderson said. “Except there’s a current status statement missing.” He seemed at the same time disappointed and saddened by what he’d just experienced second hand.

“That’s why I’m here instead of Mary Reed, Sir,” Remmy replied. “She wanted to transport his remains herself, but someone had to stay behind and monitor the mission on the ground. I also thought it would be good for her and Isabel to build goodwill.”

“So you’re in negotiations with Doctor Marcelles?” Anderson asked. “He left the ship and went to Uumen?”

“After we told him how bad things got for his former crew mates and the rest of the issyrians down there he felt he needed to help them find a way to re-purify the planet.”

“Is that even possible? The scans you took make the new forests on that world look more like an aggressive fungus,” Doctor Anderson said.

“He seems to think he can fight fire with fire,” Remmy shrugged. “Doesn’t change the fact that he’s not interested in paying the Sunspire a visit, or returning to Freeground unless you give him your support with the issyrians. He’s re-defined the term ‘gone native’ I think.”

“I’d say so. I wish we could get involved in this, but even the proposition is problematic,” Doctor Anderson said, standing and crossing to the window. “Captain McPatrick and Freeground Intelligence Oversight agree that a policy of non-involvement is best for the Sunspire and everyone back home.”

“You don’t think so,” Remmy said with a smirk.

“I can’t engage in that conversation, Ensign. What we’re saying right now is going on record, and I can’t let it be mentioned that there is any consideration for the option. We’re both bound by their decision in this,” Anderson retorted. “Tell me Mary hasn’t done anything to ally herself with the fighters down there.”

“Mary hasn’t done anything to ally herself with the fighters,” Remmy replied, straightening up and repeating the words mechanically.

“So, how are Mary and Isabel continuing their negotiations with Marcelles and pursuing a goodwill mission if they aren’t joining their cause?”

He knew this question was coming, and how important it was that he offer the right answer. There were ears listening in live, there always were. “Mary is assisting with the maintenance of their weaponry and fortifications. Isabel is helping them patch together a couple old transport ships. They’re making themselves useful when Marcelles is busy researching the forest Regent Galactic is using to convert the planet.”

“Is that all? He’s that focused?” Doctor Anderson asked.

“Nothing I saw indicated that there was anything else cooking, Sir,” Remmy replied. “At least, nothing he’s directly responsible for.”

“He’s not trying to directly cure the issyrians?”

“Not that I saw, but I didn’t stay for long after we got back to Uumen, I was hot to get back up here,” Remmy replied.

Doctor Anderson sighed and shook his head. “What about defeating framework technology? Did you get us anything on that?”

Remmy removed an old fashioned two centimetre long data chip from his pocket and flipped it on Doctor Anderson’s desk. The silver chip landed almost in the middle and bounced low, stopping near the edge. “There it is,” Remmy said with a grin. “He didn’t seem to care much about that info. It was almost as if he was sure someone would figure it out any day.”

Doctor Anderson walked to his desk and tried to scan the chip. “No receiver node on it,” he commented. “A little paranoid about getting scanned at a distance?”

“Wouldn’t you be?” Remmy replied. “Imagine if some orbital monitoring satellite picked up data on defeating frameworks as we were on our way away from the planet. I’d be having a completely different kind of briefing with some Regent Galactic hard ass.”

“Actually,” Doctor Anderson started as he plugged the chip into his command and control band. “They’d probably hook you up to a neural scanner and take you on a guided tour of your recent memories by asking you pointed questions.”

“Wow, they don’t fool around these days,” Remmy said. “Have you seen one?”

“One of their scanners?” Doctor Anderson said as he reviewed the contents of the chip on a screen of projected light. “I’ve only seen the versions Intelligence finished testing last year. Freeground is set to start using them officially next month.”

“Then I guess I picked a good time to leave,” Remmy said. “Even though they’d probably just get a stream of disappointing nights out and increasingly disturbing porn if they scanned me.”

Doctor Anderson couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. “In that case, I’m glad they didn’t do a neural profile on you.” He ejected the chip and put it in a desk drawer. “You’re right, everything we need to make framework killer weapons is here. That’s mission accomplished for you and your team as far as I’m concerned.”

“So you don’t need us to bring Doctor Marcelles here?” Remmy asked.

The hatch slid open. Captain McPatrick and a short intelligence officer with pin-prick eyes entered. “Ensign Remmy Sands, I’m not surprised you fell short,” the Fleet Intelligence operative said. “Call me Shannon. I am here to bring you back down to basics. You don’t have the luxury of failing, especially now.”

Remmy didn’t bother standing or offering her any sign of respect. If she hadn’t come in speaking like she was a dissatisfied slave owner he would have stood at attention, but she was immediately the most irritating thing he’d ever seen.

Shannon went on, looking straight through him with those beady eyes. “I’m calling bullshit on all the details of Clark Patterson’s death and everything that follows. I also don’t believe your team spent next to no time discussing politics or complaining about your place in the Sunspire’s mission while you were still aboard. I smell an editor in this report, Ensign, and if we had time I’d charge you with tampering.”

“The whole report is taken from his neural recorder. The one you guys implanted and didn’t tell him about,” Remmy barely concealed his irritation. “How could I modify a recording taken by tech I don’t understand? Hell, not even Marcelles could figure out how to reprogram it without killing him. Want more details? Then get to the morgue and scan his corpse,” Remmy spat.

“The events of his death aren’t as important as what I suspect was omitted from the record,” Shannon insisted. “What about political discussions? You can’t tell me that you spent weeks between missions without talking about Parliament in detail, or complaining about your situation.”

“Patterson wasn’t a very political guy,” Remmy said. “And you speak about him with respect. He died because of something your people did to him. He was in the service all the way.”

Shannon snickered. “He died because of tampering which Doctor Anderson should take responsibility for. He knew Doctor Marcelles wouldn’t leave Patterson wired, so he sent your team to get him fixed. We knew it, so we let it happen just to see if Marcelles could do it. He may have failed, but there’s evidence that Marcelles has technology we want.”

“Yeah, and I just delivered it,” Remmy said. “You want to kill frameworks almost as fast as you can kill anyone? There’s the step-by-step on how it’s done.”

“The Intelligence Oversight staff and I are positive that whatever you’ve given us is only the beginning, especially if Marcelles has become an issyrian-human-framework hybrid. We’ve never seen anything like that before, never even simulated it,” Shannon replied. “That kind of advance can’t be ignored.”

“So you want him more than ever,” Remmy said half to himself. He expected something like that to happen, but hoped it wouldn’t. The last thing he wanted was some new team following him back to Uumen.

“We’re sending Lieutenant Samuel Davi with you this time. He and three of his team will go along, monitor your progress and take over if they see it is necessary. If you fail, your contract will be terminated and you will be on your own. You may leave, Ensign Sands.”

“Oh, please, oh please drop my leash and let me go into the wild,” Remmy said with an impish grin. “On a world where humans get free meals, board and good pay. That would be just terrible.”

“We’ll have your citizenship revoked,” Shannon said slowly. “I doubt you can come up with one hundred thousand credits for a new one before one of their machines gets to you.”

Remmy’s mood turned sour. “You people have no sense of humour.”

“Get us Marcelles,” Shannon said. “Then I’ll show you my pleasant side.”

Doctor Anderson watched Remmy retreat from the room. It was like watching himself, only a few people alive knew him when he was that young, when he had a wandering, active mind and a sense of humour that he used to hide behind. Don Quixote would have been proud of the youth Carl Anderson was, and disappointed with the man of productive schemes and hard focus that Doctor Anderson became. Remmy brought memories of his first stint in Intelligence back, and wondered if Remmy survive to meet his own Jessica Rice.

There were noticeable differences between Doctor Anderson and Remmy, however. Remmy faced greater challenges at a younger age and rebelled in grand fashion. He also saw the politics in the Intelligence community for what they were: a constant power struggle. People like Remmy Sands got caught in the middle, often crushed underfoot. That brought his thoughts back to Commander Patterson and his fate. “Doctor Marcelles can’t resist an interesting patient. That’s why I sent Commander Patterson’s team to him.”

“Wasteful,” Captain McPatrick said. “If he finished a couple more missions I would have started giving him time on the bridge. Out of all the rejects and malcontents we’ve taken in for this tour he was one of the few I could see myself endorsing for re-entry into Fleet proper.”

“Which would have led to you flipping the switch, turning off the suppressor Fleet installed and setting his grief loose on him,” Doctor Anderson said. “He would have never gone back after facing the death of his sister.”

“It would have been done gradually,” Shannon said. “Especially since the grief therapy was slipping. The neural latticework was the only way to stabilize his personality, to get him in shape for our needs.”

Doctor Anderson looked to Captain McPatrick. His expression was stony, he didn’t like forced conditioning, cybernetic or not. He believed a soldier should be able to stand on their own, think on their own and manage themselves. Old school, the kind of thinking Doctor Anderson didn’t always like, but found easy to understand and respect. Shannon was from the new school of Intelligence. “So, if I start improvising are you going to slip nanobots into my food? Have a latticework built in my brain so you can pull my strings?”

“Your failure would be costly, but your mission on this ship isn’t so important that I couldn’t turn it around myself. I’d just present my report to Parliament as another failed New Liberal initiative.”

“And let all the work I’m trying to do to connect Freeground with the galaxy go to waste,” Doctor Anderson said with a sigh. He leaned back in his chair, sparing a glance at Captain McPatrick.

“Don’t look at him,” Shannon said. “He’s under Fleet Intelligence oversight just like you. The return from retirement is conditional for you both.”

“So you’ve reminded us more than once,” Doctor Anderson said. “So, other than hijacking my operations on Uumen and restricting me from going down there myself, what special instructions do you have for me today?”

“Nothing else. I just wanted to make sure Ensign Remmy Sands was given all the right details.” Shannon turned on her heel as if she were a statue on a turntable and left.

Captain McPatrick was about to follow when Doctor Anderson cleared his throat. “Doctor?” He asked, stopping.

Doctor Anderson waited for the hatch to slide closed behind Shannon before saying; “starting to understand how your nephew felt when he was commanding the Sunspire yet?” Doctor Anderson said. “Oversight wrapped around one leg dragging you down?”

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to break away from the fleet and abandon Freeground,” he replied in a low growl.

“Give it another month. No one can carry an Oversight officer on their back forever.”

“I hate dome cities,” Coral said, looking up at the expansive transparent metal and support beam dome above. The dark surface of Longshadow VII filled the airless sky beyond the dome. Small clusters of light marked cities on the surface, a stark contrast to the pitch black sections where there were pits large enough to see clearly from their distant orbit.

“Why? Is it the thought of getting sucked into space if one of those panels break loose, or is your claustrophobia acting up again? No, wait, you’re getting the spins whenever you look up because all you see is the surface of Longshadow Seven and your brain keeps telling you that you should be falling, or that you’re upside down,” Kipley offered.

“They call that vertigo,” Judge added.

“Don’t help,” Coral said. “Either of you.”

“If we could have taken our C&C units with us this trip, you’d be medicated by now,” Kipley said. “Can’t believe a chick like you is letting a case of the spins get her all out of joint. I thought you were rough-and-tumble tough.”

“Never sleep again, Kipley,” Coral growled.

“Why? What’s she gonna do?”

“You might wake up on the wrong side of an airlock,” Judge replied with a too-wide grin.

Longshadow VII’s third moon was the settling place for the builders of Longshadow prison. This was where they retired to when the dark planet below was ready to open its doors. The moon base, called Preacher’s Landing, served as an observation and supervision site for the prison planet.

The blood on the walls had been washed away by her new owners. The holocaust virus struck long before Davi and his team arrived. An entire Order of Eden battle group orbited the moon, never far from the city-base.