Degrees of Wrong (6 page)

At that point, I’d taken the time to survey my surroundings. To my surprise, I found a two-sided conflict—black versus khaki. I couldn’t tell who was prevailing—lifeless uniforms from both sides freckled the road and surrounding fields. The living multitudes kept fleeing to the village, searching for a refuge, searching for loved ones, searching for mercy. Still, I stayed the course as shadows cast by the sun started to change direction. It was in the late afternoon that I stumbled, literally, over Blue Eyes.

“Ow,” he said when I stepped on his hand—and then he laughed when he saw my kit. “Some doctor you are.”

Immediately, I knew his life could be saved, that I could be of use to this one person out of so many I had failed today. And I was jubilant. I looked for a place to hide him and spotted the horrible little hut a short distance away. He saw my intent and laughed again.

“That’s an outhouse, Doc,” he protested. But I was too excited to care. I peered down at him—then gasped. Blue eyes were replaced with brown ones, blond hair with black. Captain Marek sat at my feet, his tattered uniform exposing the cut physique I’d felt through his shirt. He held his hand up to me, just as Blue Eyes had done, but instead of letting me help him up, he pulled me down to him.

Brushing my hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear, he traced a finger along my jawline, pressing my body into his with his free hand and drawing me closer. “What’s your name, cadet?” he murmured on my lips.

I had no answer…

Chapter Four

I thought I heard someone clear their throat but couldn’t be sure, so I didn’t look up.

“Morgan?”

I knew that voice. That voice belonged to a man I had recently met and decided to despise. As far as I remembered, he wasn’t very happy with me either, so the tone of concern didn’t make sense. I pulled my head from my knees.

Captain Marek stood in the doorway of the restroom, hands folded behind his back, perfect brow furrowed in…worry? “Are you well?” he asked, striding toward me.

Is he serious?
“In what context?” Did he not, more or less, send me to this bathroom himself?

“Are you ill?” He lowered himself on his haunches in front of me. My resting heart rate flatlined when he lifted my chin with the crook of his finger, turning my head side to side in his examination.

“No.” I swatted his hand away, disappointed at the new heat swirling in my stomach.

This sobered him up. I saw the exact moment it registered on his face. Not ill, not injured—just insubordinate. Again.

He stood up, his creased brow straightening too. “I see you must have finished your task, then.”

He could see I had not.

It occurred to me that I had just swatted the captain of the ship within hours of head-butting him, and in the meantime, had disobeyed one of his officers. There was also a pretty good chance I drooled on his bathroom floor while doing it. So much for first—and second—impressions. On the positive side, he’d probably avoid me after this, so I wouldn’t have to worry about forgetting my name again or amputating someone’s head instead of their toe.

Feeling confident that this would be our last encounter, I hoisted to my feet and stretched. “Actually, Captain, you run such a tight ship, there was nothing more I could do. It’s spotless. So I’ve been here waiting for further instruction.”

He frowned, but despite his efforts, still looked glorious. “Dr. Folsom has boarded. I’ll take you to her.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

I followed, in much better spirits after my nap—at least the nightmare meant that I had slept. He led me down the hallway, our boots clicking on the hard floor in disharmony, his long strides forcing me to keep an urgent pace. We stopped in front of an elevator whose ocean-blue doors opened in our presence.

“Admiral Rudd’s office,” he commanded, and the elevator jolted me to the left, indicating our speedy travel to the right instead of up or down.

Voice prompted.
That would be advantageous to me while I fumbled my way around this ship.

After a few seconds, gravity forced me to the floor—we were moving up. The elevator stopped, and Captain Marek turned around, as if to say something. A door behind us opened, and he exited without a glance in my direction. Of course, I followed, but considered making a face at his wide back. Again, hand gestures crossed my mind.

Trying to keep up, I realized with dismay that this hallway was a carbon copy of the last hall and the one before that. No signs or symbols adorned the walls, nothing to guide a person to their destination. Was this a defense strategy of some sort, to slow the progress of invaders or trespassers—
if
they could penetrate it in the first place?

Captain Marek halted in front of the only door in this hall. As he stood at attention, a matrix of red light roamed over his face. Peering around him, I found the source over the door—a small laser, no bigger than the eraser of a pencil. Despite its size, it projected the light over his entire face like a net.

“Captain Nicoli Marek,” he said, startling me.

The laser then moved over my own curious expression, and a high-pitched siren began to wail, “Intruder! Intruder! Intruder!”

The lights went dark, except for a red strobe, a robotic accuser shrieking in alarm. Biting my lip, I looked to the captain for a directive. He rolled his eyes. Again, a well-executed hand gesture seemed appropriate. I refrained.

The chaos stopped, and the older man who appeared at the door raised a brow at Captain Marek.

The captain saluted. “Her in-processing was…interrupted, sir. She’s not in our system yet.”

The man returned the salute, studied me in apparent amusement, then stepped aside, motioning for us to enter. The room’s size and decor suggested a tenant of high rank. I was both surprised and pleased to see real books lining the shelves on several walls. A huge desk dominated the space in front of a massive bookcase. The other side of the room hosted a large metallic table surrounded by six matching chairs. The small sitting area in the middle—complete with gray sofa and a pair of armchairs—hinted at casual meetings, but none without appropriate protocol.

Dr. Folsom was seated on the sofa.

“Elyse.” She almost broke into a run to reach me. When she embraced me, I fought back the urge to cry. She’d been my mother’s closest friend, the one who most reminded me of her.

After a final, hearty squeeze she pulled away, still hugging me with one arm. She grabbed my chin with her tiny hand and lifted it, although I was taller than she. Examining me with her big blue eyes—in the same way my mother would have—she said, “You look tired. Has everyone treated you well?” She all but pointed at Captain Marek with her glare, who offered an almost-indiscernible shrug.

She turned back to me. “Well, don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll get you settled in and comfortable. Then we’ll worry about your research.”

The older man cleared his throat.

“Oh,” she said. “Introductions! Of course, you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Captain Nicoli Marek…” at this I narrowed my eyes at the one and only, “…but you haven’t met Admiral James Rudd.” She motioned to the older man.

Admiral Rudd was still handsome for his age. Though gray had overtaken his hair, he had all of it. Wisdom and kindness crinkled his eyes in a smile when he extended his hand to me. As I accepted, he brought his other hand up to enclose mine.

“It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Dr. Morgan,” he assured me, and I believed him. “If I can be of assistance to you in any way, please do let me know.”

“The pleasure’s mine, I’m sure.” I couldn’t say I was happy to be here, but this man was sincere and deserved my respect.

“Forgive the interruption, sir,” Captain Marek interjected, “but I feel I’ve been misinformed as to the reason for her presence on this ship. For instance, I was unaware that she is a doctor of…?”

“Medicine,” Dr. Folsom completed for him.

I took certain delight in the captain’s astonishment. He turned to the admiral. “I thought she was here for witness protection, sir. However, Dr. Folsom mentioned something about research?”

“I didn’t have time to tell you before port, Nicoli,” Admiral Rudd said. “I didn’t know myself the exact arrangement until this morning. What I told you yesterday was what I believed true until a few hours ago. She isn’t here under witness protection. She’s been commissioned by the UN to try to find the cure to the Black Death. We’ll be providing her room, board and a laboratory for the duration of her research. Not to mention protection. Dr. Folsom will be assisting her with her research.”

“Protection from whom, sir?” The captain’s eyes locked on mine.

The admiral snorted. “One can only imagine who could be looking for her at this point.”

I shivered under the captain’s scrutiny but couldn’t look away. His gaze was like the red laser, only probing me for the truth through my reaction. “Dr. Folsom will be assisting
her
, Admiral?”

I wouldn’t let myself be provoked by the doubt in his tone.

“I can assure you, if there’s anyone capable of creating an antivirus, it’s Dr. Morgan,” Dr. Folsom said. I appreciated her confidence—mine had gone missing.

“Seems a bit young for this kind of assignment,” Captain Marek said.

“I might say the same of you,” I countered. He couldn’t be much older than me, and the captain of a warship. He was up to his eyeballs in hypocrisy—maybe that’s why he was frowning. I smiled a little.

Admiral Rudd laughed. “She has you there, Nicoli. Two child prodigies on the same ship. Will there be enough room?”

Now we both scowled at the admiral, probably with a common thought—that there might
not
be enough room. And neither of us appreciated being called a child.

“Sir, she’s already made a mess of things, I’m afraid,” Captain Marek said.

I gawked at him. “What?
Me
?”

“Yes, Dr. Morgan, you. Boarding the ship posing as a cadet was for your protection. With your insubordination this morning, you’ve placed the entire pretense in jeopardy.”

Admiral Rudd crossed his arms. “What insubordination?”

“She almost assaulted Lt. Horan, sir.”

The admiral’s arms flew away from his chest. “She
what
?”

Even Dr. Folsom gaped at me now.

“Sir, when I reached the two on the dock, they were nose to nose in an altercation, and she was in the process of threatening him,” the captain recounted.

I waited for him to say something that wasn’t true, because as soon as he did, I would protest. So far, though, I agreed with his rendition.

“Elyse wouldn’t do such a thing,” Dr. Folsom declared. She turned to me. “Elyse, tell the admiral what happened.”

Captain Marek remained impassive, even after Dr. Folsom’s remark made him out to be a liar.

I shrugged my guilt, not meeting her eyes. “That’s about right, so far,” I admitted. “But he did provoke me.”

Admiral James Rudd guffawed. “You threatened Lt. Horan? That man’s stare can crumble granite. He makes combat-trained men cry like diapered toddlers. And you…” he pointed at me in his amusement, “…stood in his face and threatened him?”

I nodded, hoping he wouldn’t make me go back to the bathroom.

“What did you threaten him with?” Curiosity made his face seem boyish.

“I hadn’t threatened him yet. I was about to. I was interrupted.” Almost pouting, I glared at Captain Marek, who appeared unperturbed.

“What were you going to tell him?” Admiral Rudd pressed on.

“I’d rather not say.”

His bellowed laughter resonated off the walls.

“I’d rather not know,” interjected the captain. “The point is, Admiral, she was insubordinate in front of her fellow cadets. If we move her out from under Lt. Horan’s command now, it will seem as though she’s gotten her way. That her behavior was acceptable—that she’s special. That’s the last thing we want, sir.”

The admiral rubbed his clean-shaven jaw as if scratching a beard. “I’m afraid Nicoli is right. If you hadn’t given such a public display of…distaste…for Lt. Horan, we might’ve transferred you to Dr. Folsom’s command. However, as it
is
in your best interest to pose as a cadet, we have to stick with the most natural course of action. You must remain under his care. We’re already at a disadvantage, since you used your real name.”

“The man is ridiculous,” I spat. “He made me clean the bathroom with a toothbrush.”

“Admiral, is that really necessary?” Dr. Folsom stepped in. “It’s such an unsanitary practice.”

“She didn’t clean the bathroom,” Captain Marek cut in. “When I came to retrieve her, she was leaning against the wall, sound asleep.”

The man was infuriating. Intolerable. And was he now implying that I was
lazy
?

I stepped toward him. “In the past forty-eight hours, I watched people I love die. I was kidnapped from my home, forced into servitude on this miserable ship and met the most condescending man in existence—not to mention Lt. Horan. Pardon me, Captain, if cleaning your filthy bathroom with a toothbrush didn’t quite top my priority list.

“Your concern about
my
qualifications seems a bit hypocritical considering your own shortcomings. For instance, your lack of compassion makes you unfit to run a ship full of living, breathing people. Were you absent that day in captain school? Maybe you could get your money back.” I was inches from his face now, and even in the throes of anger, I could find no imperfection there—which irritated me hugely.