Blood and Fire (11 page)

“Aye, Captain. We'll have to pull a direct line. I don't want to risk transferring the orange box. We'll dump it into a transmitter.”

“Do it,” she ordered. “Now.”

Back on the Bridge of the
Star Wolf
, the mood was grim. Nobody had to say it. No one believed the mission team would return from the
Norway
. They were watching dead men. Five dead men and one dead woman.

Unless and until the chief medical officer determined what those wavicles really were, they
couldn't
be allowed to return. The
Star Wolf
couldn't risk being infected.

“Captain?” Commander Brik's voice was low and gruff.

Parsons stepped to the forward railing of the Command Deck and looked down at Brik's workstation. “Yes, Mr. Brik?”

The Morthan security chief pointed at the schematic view of the
Norway
on his display. Parsons saw what he was indicating and her expression hardened.

“I think you should take a look at this. These readings are very ... strange.”

Almost simultaneously, HARLIE said, audible on both vessels, “Mr. Korie—something is moving toward you. Multiple somethings.”

On the
Norway
, Easton was studying his scanner. “I'm reading it now too.”

Beside him, Bach, Wasabe and Hodel drew their stingers.

Easton looked up from his display and pointed aft and upward. “It's coming from—”

Before he could finish the sentence, the hatch on the Command Deck popped open, and a desperate figure came clawing through it, a crewman in torn uniform, gasping and choking, floundering like a drunk, his face blotchy and deformed. He came flying—stumbling forward in a cloud of sparkles; he careened off the captain's chair, bumped into the forward railing and tumbled headlong over it, thumping heavily to the deck below, releasing an even greater spray of twinkles and lights. They splashed through the air, they skittered across the floor.

As experienced as they were, the members of the mission team were startled. The security officers took cautious steps backward. Only Berryman approached, his medical training outweighing his instinctive fear. He stepped forward quickly, instinctively bringing his scanner up and focusing it—stopping himself only at the last moment. He tossed
the scanner aside and bent to the affected man—he was twisting and moaning across the deck, sending out wave after wave of sparks. His name-badge identified him as OKUDA, M.

Berryman grabbed Okuda's wrist, feeling for his pulse. The man's heart was racing, his pulse-rate was frightening. His skin was twitching as if there were things moving around just beneath the surface. Flashes of color moved over his body as he coughed out his life. “You're too late! They're all dead! Everyone is dead! You'll see! You're next! You're next!”

Korie's face remained expressionless, but beside him, Bach recoiled; even Shibano flinched.

What they saw was relayed directly to the Bridge of the
Star Wolf
. There, the reaction was less restrained. Tor's hand went to her mouth and an involuntary “Oh, my God!” escaped her lips. Parsons looked ashen. Williger mouthed a word that was inappropriate for the Bridge of a starship. Jonesy closed his eyes involuntarily. Goldberg's expression tightened—he was clenching his teeth behind pursed lips. Only Brik remained dispassionate. He had seen worse—but he would never say so.

Parsons took a sideways step and touched Williger's shoulders gently. “What is it, Molly?”

Williger shook her head, a silent reply. She didn't want to say. She didn't even want to guess. And even if she could guess, it wasn't something she would say aloud. Not here. Not now. Not where it might be overheard.

She watched grimly as Berryman began checking Okuda's vital signs without the benefit of a medical scanner. She could tell he felt at a loss, as he moved his hands from the man's heart to his neck. Berryman didn't know what to look for, and he wasn't sure what he could do in any case. He'd never seen anything like this before. Shaking his head uncertainly, he reached for a sedative-injector.

“Berryman?” Korie asked.

Berryman shook his head, a gesture that could have meant anything from “I don't know” to “He's dying,” and probably included both. He touched the injector to the man's neck. A soft hiss sounded. “Here,” he said gently to Okuda. “This will ease the pain.”

It didn't work. Okuda wasn't eased. Instead, he started twitching and shuddering even more frantically, desperately trying to escape. “Oh, no! It's happening! Oh, please, no—” He looked desperately to Berryman. Seeing no hope there, he twisted toward Bach and Shibano. “Kill me! Oh, God, please kill me!” He jerked suddenly across the floor as if something
was dragging him—from the inside. He pulled himself up, almost standing again, pushed himself off, as if he were continuing on his desperate journey, but before he could get any further, he clutched his belly and screamed—a dark red stain began spreading across his torso. Bright flares of firefly twinkles shot out from his body. “Kill me! Quickly! God damn you!”

Bach took a step backward, to keep out of his way. Somehow she had detached herself from the horror—long enough to say, “
Star Wolf
, your mysterious life forms are here. An injured crewman.”

Brik's reply was immediate—and disconcerting. “I'm not talking about the crewman. The life forms are still moving toward you.”

Korie looked to Bach. She looked back at him, startled, then looked to her scanner—it was relaying the readings from the Bridge of the
Star Wolf
.

This was all the distraction that Okuda needed. He leapt sideways and grabbed the stinger pistol off Hodel's tool belt. Hodel twisted to stop him, but he was too late, and his turning motion helped Okuda more than it hindered him. He staggered backward, clutching the weapon to his chest and—as they turned in horror—he
disintegrated
in a multicolored burst of heat and fire.

The sound of it was loud enough to knock them all backwards. The flare of the stinger expanded like a fireball and became a cloud of sparkling wavicles, all pink and gold and brightly flickering. They spread out quickly across the Bridge, alighting on consoles, chairs, and bulkheads—and the starsuits of the mission team—flickering briefly before disappearing into nothingness.

Korie spoke first. “
Star Wolf
, did you get that?”

His headphones replied with silence. All their headphones were silent.

“
Star Wolf
, acknowledge.”

On the Bridge of the starship, Captain Parsons massaged her temple wearily. She knew she had to acknowledge Korie's request; she just didn't know what she could say. Or
should s
ay. Finally, she took a breath and said softly, “We saw it.”

Korie's voice was unnaturally calm. “We have to assume the whole ship is infected. Some kind of—we don't know. Did you see the wavicle burst?” And then, after a moment, he added, “We must also assume that the entire mission team is contaminated.”

Parsons didn't acknowledge that. She was too preoccupied—upset. She pulled off her headset and tossed it onto her chair, then stepped curtly across the Command Deck to Molly Williger. “What about a biofilter?” she asked quietly.

Williger, noting the captain's actions, switched off her own headset before replying. “It won't filter out wavicles. Half-wave, half-particle, they'd slip right through.”

Parsons half-turned forward, looking over the railing that separated the command deck from the lower Operations Deck. “Mr. Brik?”

Brik's tone was ... different. As if he knew something. His voice sounded unusually gruff. “I have to agree with Mr. Korie.”

From the
Norway
, Korie's next words sounded like the voice of a dead man. “We can't come back,” he said. “We can't risk infecting the
Star Wolf
. Captain, do you agree?”

Parsons looked from one to the other. Her eyes met Williger's first, then Brik's, then finally came to rest on Tor's. The astrogator's face was pale—a reflection of her own? She knew that she was looking for an answer that she wasn't going to find. Her Bridge crew was as bereft of ideas as she was. Finally, surrendering, she nodded her head, regretfully picked up her headset and put it back on. “Yes, I agree,” she said. Without emotion, as if she were quoting directly from the regulations, she added, “The safety of the
Star Wolf
has to come first.”

Korie turned around slowly, meeting the eyes of the rest of the mission team. An odd little phrase was lurking in the back of his head, but he resisted the temptation to say it.
You knew the job was dangerous when you took it
.

It wasn't necessary. Clearly, the team already understood that this was now a one-way mission. The realization showed in their eyes.

I'm dead.
He realized it himself.
I'm dead. I just haven't fallen down yet. I'm still walking around, but I'm dead. What a curious feeling.

Korie shook his head. He tried to blink it away, but he couldn't.

I should be scared, but I'm not. I'm ... pissed as hell. I'm not done. I didn't get to finish. I wanted to be captain. I wanted to beat the Morthans—

Parsons' voice cut into his thoughts. “Get the log from that ship, Mr. Korie. Find a working access. I want to know what happened over there.” And then she added, “Maybe there's something useful ...”

Korie didn't say what he was thinking. Instead, he uttered a curt “Will do.” He motioned to his team. “Hodel. Let's go get that goddamned orange box.”

On the Bridge of the
Star Wolf
, time had collapsed and lay in broken shards all over the deck. The officers looked from one to the other, each hoping that someone else would have an answer, would know what to say or do. The moment stretched out painfully.

Finally, Brik turned quietly—as quietly as any Morthan could move—to Captain Parsons. He caught her eye and she looked at him questioningly. He looked to Dr. Williger, she nodded her agreement. “May we speak to you please?” He inclined his head aftward and Parsons realized he was asking for a private conference.

The captain nodded. She led the way aft, through the hatch into “Broadway.” The first cabin aft of the Bridge was the Communications Bay; the second was a tiny conference room that doubled as the Officers' Mess. As she entered, she pulled off her headset, made sure it was off and tossed it on the table. Brik entered the cabin after her, stooping to fit. There were few places in the starship where he didn't have to crouch, this wasn't one of them. He stepped over to a work station and scrunched down before it. He punched in his code and brought up a display for her to see. Dr. Williger stepped up beside them both.