Angry Ghosts (15 page)

O’Kai’s face is unchanged. “The flight data recorder on their virus ship, along with the A/V recorders on their helmets, will show all the facts of the incident. Then we would like your corroborating evidence. I’ll send Major Ralla to collect you. Until then, rest or be free to explore our facility. Colonel Shao-Lo can provide you a guide if you wish.” O’Kai stands and strides off purposefully while Keller and his crew stare after him.

“This way to your quarters,” Shao-Lo says politely. The colonists stand uneasily and follow the colonel
through the nearly emptied hall. They enter the same elevator as before, yet the lift halts at a lower floor.

Shao-Lo leads the colonist officers
through polished metal corridors with regular, branching intersections, then into a large room that appears recently altered. Five lockers beside five bunks stand against three of the room’s four sides. There is no decorative interruption of the metal walls, save a small touch panel near the door. Shao-Lo points at it.

“This panel is for communication, room lighting, and temperature regulation. If you need assistance, touch here, and one of us will attend to your needs.” She pauses and fully faces them. “It is very good you are here.” The tall woman smiles
sincerely and departs. When the doors swish closed, Keller’s officers begin loudly talking at once.

“
Please
! Please, one at a time!” Keller insists.

“These guys a
re gonna get tossed by their own kind?” rants Gregor.

“Didn't think you'd mind,” Sharon says
.

Gregor shoots Sharon a sour glance,
then frowns at the fairness of her comment. “When Thompson told me he was gonna confess, I thought he was full o' shit. But he did. And Goddamn, they had the real heroes’ welcome, you know? Whole crowd just loving them! But he straight up said it."

"Must've really been needing to," Sharon offers.

"Yeah." Gregor looks down at his wedding ring. He closes the hand to a fist. "My head's spinning right now, but this...I don't know. Just feels
wrong
."

“What can we do?” Sharon
asks. “The star chamber is forming.”

“They
did
ask for our testimony...” Ortega notes.

Keller thinks hard then looks at the counselor. “Do you think it’ll matter?”

The counselor puts his hand to his chin, returning his captain’s serious gaze. “We’ll have to
make
it matter.”

Keller nods when another thought occurs to him. “Whatever we do, we have to be in
total
agreement. Gregor, are you
absolutely
sure this is what you want?”

Gregor searches deep, his eyes staring into another time and place
. “I remember everything… I’ll never forget. If it were up to me then”—he raises his hands with both index fingers pointing in a row—“I would’ve drilled all three,
bam, bam, bam
, and not lost a wink of sleep.”

He thinks some more, dredging up the aftermath of it all. Recalling the agony of having
to live without her, believing that life was never going to be worth living again, blaming the three for ruining his hope. Yes, blaming and hating them so intensely it was killing him. He looks at Keller.

“Remember when you ordered me to their quarters, said I had to look them in th
e eyes? When I got there, they were sleeping.
God!
I wanted to waste all three of ’em right there. I picked up Thompson’s rifle and took a bead on him first, savoring it. As I looked at him, he was sweating rivers: and he was twitching…mumbling something. He sits straight up out of his bunk, and I tuck the stock in tight to my shoulder, just
begging
for him to say something I don’t like. But instead, he just looks at me. He isn’t afraid. I can see he wouldn’t stop me. He looked, just,
tortured
. Like, if I had triggered, he would’ve thanked me. He hated himself more than I did… and
never once
did he try to make any excuses. I thought about that for months afterward. Months. And I’m sorry I wouldn’t talk to you about it, Counselor. I know you were trying to help.”

The couns
elor nods modestly.

Gregor breaks off, letting his arms droop to his sides. “No, I don’t think I’ve forgiven them yet, but I can’t hate them anymore.”

Sharon and Ortega nod soberly in agreement, and the five share a moment of silence, feeling its weight.

“They worked their
asses off on the ship...” Keller recollects.

“No question, there,
” Sharon chimes.

Ortega
smiles, adding his own two bits. “Remember when we invited them to dinner that first time?”

Sharon laughs out loud. “They show up, throw back some cup full of goo, and leave. They weren’t even there two minutes!”

“That’s their way. They never stop moving except for a little sleep.”

“And they’re tough
cabrones, too,” Ortega adds. “Remember when Argo and Maiella were working on the intermix manifolds?”

“Oh yeah,” Keller says
. “They shut the inflow off, but the conduits were so corroded, they exploded from back pressure. Argo gets up, shrapnel sticking out of his chest and legs, and he hauls Maiella away to safety. He fixes her up then starts pulling the pieces out of himself
by hand, no anesthetic
! I’ve never seen anyone do surgery on themselves like that, and he barely even groaned.”

“I remember they wouldn’t let any of us in
the room that day,” Gregor adds. “A few of the engineers thought they were gonna push past him; but Argo scoops all three of ’em off their feet, carries them outside, and locks the door! They were bitching to me about that the whole morning! Then the conduit explodes, and they realize he probably saved their lives. They shut up fast.”

Sharon shivers, thinking about Argo pulling the hot metal from his own body, having to be his own surgeon there amid the sweltering machinery. “We tried to keep him in sick bay, but he wouldn’t stay.” She swells herself up as much as she can, dropping her voice, jutting her lower lip for her best impression of the big man.

“I have higher priorities.”

The group laughs fondly and Sharon lets the laugh turn to a warm smile. “After awhile, I felt safer having them around.”

“Yeah,” Gregor continues, “like, who cares if the lizards find us? These three’d go
right up their ass
!”

The group murmurs their enthusiastic assent. Again, a quiet descends
.

“I
think I’d miss them if they were gone,” Ortega admits. Agreeing sighs join his statement.

Keller rubs
his chin, looking at his officers with determination. “Then we know what we have to do.”

* * * * *

Argo, Maiella, and Thompson sit at the edge of the same bunk, unarmored and hog-tied by short chain quad cuffs. They huddle together, knowing how little time they have left.

“There were never two finer operators,” Thompson says at last. “It is to my honor that our lives end together.”

“We were fortunate to be under your command,” Argo replies. “Your leadership used us well, and we always knew we could count on you to get us home.”

“You both warned me to hide my emotions...” Maiella recalls. “I’m glad I didn’t. You two are the only ones that could ever put up with me. I’ll never have to wonder if you died without knowing how much you meant to me.”

All three lean in close, resting their heads on each other. Despite the contortion it requires, they find comfort.

Before long,
the tromp of boots grows louder beyond the door, and the three sit up straight. Maiella sniffs deeply to regain her composure, but something compels her to look back at Thompson. Her body feels light with the exception of her heavy heart sagging inside her chest. There is an emotion that has been growing inside her for some time, but she has no idea how to express it. The cadre has no words for what she feels.

There is only a moment more to get the words out, to
tell him what she can. If only her arms were free, she could throw them around him and try to show what she means; but the restraints are strong, too strong. He can see she wants to tell him something, and he’s waiting; but the steps outside are so near, there’s no time.

“Thompson! I…”

“Yes?”

The door whisks open, and two Guns in armor stride through, taking positions on either side of the portal while Major Ralla steps to the fore. Argo, Maiella, and Thompson face front, blanking their expressions.

“Gun Thompson, Brick Argo, and Geek Maiella…” Ralla pauses to watch a single tear roll down Maiella’s porcelain face. She changes her officious tone, becoming riskily compassionate.

“Are you ready to face judgment?”

In monotone, they reply as one, “
We are
.”

The major kneels and detaches the handcuffs from the leg cuffs then removes the leg cuffs entirely. Standing back up, she looks the three in the eyes. There is no question she knows her duty and will carry it out, yet a conflict lingers. As she looks at them, she knows they are guilty by their own admission and must be sentenced; but they brought home a human ship, complete with her crew and cargo. She cannot and will not despise them for that.

She places her hand on Thompson’s shoulder, and politely orders, “Follow me.”

Ralla walks out, and the handcuffed operators follow obediently, the two Guns taking rank behind them. All six march in perfect cadence, their combined footfalls resounding solidly through the alloy corridors.

Thoughts race through Thompson’s mind.
Could I have done it differently? Is there a way I can still save Argo and Maiella?

Before he realizes it, they
arrive at the council chamber, where the Leadership Council is already assembled. At a table just to the left, Keller, Gregor, Sharon, Ortega, and the counselor look on nervously.

“Major Ralla delivering Team Spectre, as ordered.”

“Thank you, Major,” O’Kai says glumly.

Ralla steps around the table to join her fellow cadre officers.

“Dismissed,” O’Kai states to the Gun escorts. They salute and depart, closing the door behind them. Before the doors shut completely, they peer in for one last look, sadness etching their scarred faces.

“
atten-tion
!” Major Chusan declares, and the three operators stamp once, thrusting their chests out. General O’Kai glances heavily at the display console built into the table before him, sighing deeply before speaking.

“We have reviewed all of the flight recorder logs as well as the data recorders built into your helmets, and we have discovered the following:
Team Spectre deployed two hundred thirty seven years, four months, eight days ago under direction of General Dryden. Your destination was uncharted space, a region where at least one vessel had been witnessed at significant distance. In flight, the virus ship suffered a collision with an undetected object, which damaged several onboard systems. Affected systems included life support, navigation, and power. Intermittent electrical failures are recorded several times.

“Sixteen months, seven days ago, the wake-up program initialized, yet was only successful in rous
ing Gun Thompson from stasis. The program indicated multiple problems with Gun Thompson’s physical condition, including irregular neural patterns and unthawed left arm. The irregular neural pattern was determined to be the result of repeated partial thawing from power failures. The defective arm was the result of protein buildup clogging the blood replacement outflow tube, which Gun Thompson was able to repair.

“The wake-up program was initialized by a proximity sensor detecting a nearby vessel, specifically the colony ship,
Europa
. There was insufficient power to follow all protocols, so power was diverted to rouse Brick Argo and Geek Maiella. Once awake, Geek Maiella discovered the synaptic bridges had retreated from her Human/Digital Interface, again, a result of repeated partial thaws. The irregular neural patterns of all three operators stabilized somewhat as the metabolic boosters took effect, and Team Spectre proceeded with their engagement of the colony ship.

“After perforation of the hull, Team Spectre killed seventeen human crew members before halting their attack on the ship’s bridge. Here is the video from Gun Thompson’s helmet recorder.”

O’Kai taps a key on his console, and a Holoscreen opens in the air over the table. Infrared video lends false color to the swirling smoke, and glowing blobs appear though the haze. Violent reports of weapons fire erupt, and the glowing blobs lurch back suddenly. Screams fill the room from the video as the view sweeps through the ship, more blobs blowing apart and dying horribly.

For Thompson, Maiella, and Argo, it is a familiar scene that tears at them; but for Keller and his officers, it is an unexpected transport to the terror of the event. They cringe and gasp at the sounds of familiar voices groaning in agony. Gregor’s mouth falls open, quivering when he hears his wife’s screams and her rough grunts as the bullets rip through her chest. He shatters completely, turning away, burying himself in his hands and sobbing desperately.