Metal Boxes - Trapped Outside (3 page)

SIX

Stone was still baffled by the sudden turn of events as the meeting ended. His dataport beeped, reminding him of his appointment in medical. The time was long past immediate, but it didn’t matter. A navy commander had delayed him, if medical didn’t like it, they could complain to Butcher.

Ryte followed him from Butcher’s office into the corridor. She glanced over his shoulder at his dataport, checked her own dataport, and slipped an arm through the crook of his. “Gosh, Midshipman, I mean, Ensign Stone. I have to go to medical, so we might as well walk there together.” Her grin was more predatory than sexy.

Arriving in the medical corps section, he was greeted by yet another new doctor. Since all three of the military commands used Lazzaroni Base as a transient point, his medical records had ping-ponged around to half a dozen doctors passing through on their way to somewhere else. This doctor met him in the waiting room, not even bothering to let him sit and wait. She didn’t seem to care if anyone waiting for appointments heard her or not.

“I’m Lieutenant Senior Grade Doctor Menendez, your new physician for the time being. Where the hell have you been, Midshipman Stone?” She stared at his medical file, flicking through dozens of pages and charts. She glanced back at the rank tabs on his shoulders. “Dammit, are these the right files?” She shouted at no one in particular.

Stone was about to reply when Ryte interrupted, “Ensign Stone was promoted just a few moments ago, Doctor.”

“No one tells me anything. Who the hell are you, Petty Officer?”

“Tammie Ryte, sir. I’m from communications and I have data requiring hand delivery to you about your next deployment.”

“Next—? I was told I would be here for—never mind.” She shouted at a corpsman. “Get Doctor Triplett back in my office. She’s around somewhere, just stepped out for coffee or something.” She waved for Stone and Ryte to follow her. “That woman is a real pain in my…” Her voice faded away as she realized where she was and who was with her. “Civilians! What are you going to do?”

Stone was soon completely lost as they wandered through dozens of corridors, turning every direction until he would either require a guide or his dataport to tell him how to get back to the navy section of the base. When they arrived, an elderly civilian woman in a long white lab coat already occupied the tiny exam room. The woman was obviously annoyed, but refused to look up from her reader.

Stone wondered why he needed to be seen by another doctor, a civilian one at that. This woman must be a specialist of some kind called in to consult with the Military Medical Corps. She was too old to be military, but had the lean, wiry look of a long distance runner despite her shoulder length grey hair.

Ignoring the woman in the room, Menendez ordered Stone to sit, pointing at the exam table,. He didn’t mind being examined with multiple people in the room. He was often examined, poked, and prodded by groups of medical corps and researchers, each claiming he was ill, whether he said he felt fine or not. Still, PO3 Ryte had followed along and he wasn’t comfortable even talking about his medical issues with a low ranking communications NCO in the room, certainly not a pretty, sensual one. He couldn’t say why she made him more nervous than the others, she just did.

Menendez gestured toward the civilian woman in introduction. “This is Doctor Triplett. She is the Empire’s preeminent xeno-biologist and the leading expert on your drascos.”

Stone snorted in derision, not even bothering to cover up his mockery. This civilian could claim to be an expert, but he was the only one who had lived with drascos in close quarters for more than a year. He knew things most scientists studying drascos could only guess at. Even Danielle Wright was more of an expert having been the only person to autopsy a dead drasco. Triplett could only review Wright’s files.

Menendez turned to Ryte. “Give me the files and get out.”

Ryte nodded, opened her dataport display, tapped a few files, and with a finger, flicked the files at the doctor’s dataport. She said, “I also have some special files for Doctor Triplett.” She threw files at Triplett’s dataport, turned, and disappeared down the corridor.

Menendez flicked through the files she’d received, scanning them quickly, and said, “Ensign Stone, I expected to have more time reviewing your case to see if we can find something my colleagues might have missed. In that regard, I requested Doctor Triplett’s assistance.”

Stone smiled. “Yes, sir. I assume Doctor Triplett has made a study of drasco spit’s analgesic properties?” Triplett nodded and he continued. “Your next question is ‘how often have I let my drasco’s put their spit on a cut, scrape, scratch, or any other open wound’. Well, my answer is, I don’t know. I guess about a couple of times a week over the past year.”

Menendez shook her head. “It shouldn’t work.” Triplett nodded in agreement, still not looking up from her reader. “Different planets evolve using different DNA strings. At best, drasco bodily fluid shouldn’t have any effect on a human. At worst, it should have killed you long ago.”

Stone poked himself in the chest. “Nope. Still here.”

Finally looking up, Triplett said, “This is no time to be flippant, young man. Those drascos need to be turned over to me for study. I have been put in charge of a new team to investigate them.”

Stone all but shouted, “No. I have talked to enough lawyers in the past six months to know you can’t take them without proof they are a danger to everyone, not just me. Such a confiscation is a direct violation of my chartered rights. Besides, all you want to do is dissect them. So, no.”

Triplett said, “They are a danger. One of them actually bit a researcher. I have the report by Doctor Emmons.”

“I don’t blame Peebee one little bit. I would bite you too if you poked me in such a sensitive area without my permission.”

Triplett shook her head in absolute denial. “Be that as it may, you have a serious medical condition made worse by your constant contact with those creatures.”

“I’ve heard about my medical issues. I know somehow the drasco spit has rapidly mutating DNA and I have drasco DNA strands in my system.”

Menendez said, “Fortunately, the alien DNA isn’t making any attempt at this point to combine with your human DNA. It remains free floating.”

Stone said, “So, no harm, no foul at this point.” He’d been scanned by every medical device on the base and one doctor had actually gone so far as to take an actual blood sample rather than trust the scanners.

Menendez shook her head. “Not exactly. We don’t know what’s going on. Drasco DNA is wildly flexible. Surely, you’ve seen this in their own rapid growth. Something has caused them to become larger than our database indicates they should be and their DNA is designed to enhance said growth.”

Something caused Jay and Peebee to grow stronger and larger than their mother. He had his theories and doubted DNA was the entire culprit. He thought maybe their current environment triggered something in their system, some internal growth mechanism enabling them to overcome the size of their most predominant challenger. Suited marines most often challenged his drascos on Lazzaroni Base. Their growth to such an unusual size in such a short time may have been from exercising with a squad of combat armored marines after lunch, their nitrogen enriched meals, or this was just normal and his experience with drascos on Allie’s World was too limited to know any different.

No one knew much about drascos, his was the only known pair anywhere in the galaxy except those found on their native planet. All scans indicated they both had drasco-sized wombs filled with both fertilized and unfertilized eggs. As a species, he and Danielle Wright had discovered drascos shortly after discovering Allie’s World. Wright, a veterinarian, noticed that drascos were born ready to give birth even if there weren’t any male drascos nearby to impregnate them. While trapped on the new planet, he and Wright only encountered one male; a huge, angry, mindless, beast bent on killing. Stone didn’t want to ever repeat that meeting.

Yet, his drascos were far beyond the size he thought they should be. He had to remind himself, they were still only a little over a year old and he didn’t have any clue how big they would get, except for his memories and Doctor Wright’s videos of their mother and her size. Those videos were proving more irrelevant by the day.

Their growth couldn’t be due just to the competition. Marines were tough competition, but their native planet, Allie’s World, was a nightmare, where all plants and animals were covered in spikes, thorns, claws, fangs, and needles. A casual stroll through the jungle would shred a human. Native animals needed tough skins to survive. His drascos also wore human-made armor protecting their most vital parts, including covering those tender soft spots, from inadvertent contact. Their home planet was beyond tough, and should have made Jay and Peebee’s birth mother grow larger than she had if growth was determined solely by competition.

He admitted he also overfed the girls, giving them carbon dioxide infused vegetation whenever they were hungry. Their replicators had long since synthesized the golden ooze bars the girls loved and gobbled down like candy with abandon at any opportunity. They exercised at least once a day and didn’t appear fat. Mass or weight wasn’t the only change; they were taller and longer than their mother had been.

Menendez said, “Doctor Triplett advises you to separate yourself from those drascos to avoid any continued exposure. I concur, however—”

Stone interrupted, “However, this has been suggested before and has been overruled as being just guess work. I already have their DNA in my system.”

Menendez said, “I was going to say, this free floating alien DNA isn’t the biggest issue we face. Some moron of a medical corpsman thought the way to fix your issue would be to upgrade your military nanites.”

Stone smiled. “Doctor Menendez, I’ve never felt better.” His new enhanced nanites coursed through his system, keeping him healthy, even healing scrapes, scratches, or cuts faster than drasco spit ever did. He could pack on muscle without much exercise. Ice cream no longer settled around his middle. He no longer grew tired in the middle of an afternoon, an abundance of energy constantly coursed through his body, and yet he slept at night more soundly than ever before.

Triplett said something under her breath about stupid military mindset; both Stone and Menendez ignored the comment. Academics and researchers were often dismissive of the military and looked at them as substandard. It didn’t matter that the officer ranks of all three military branches were populated by men and women with advanced degrees. Their rampant contempt for anyone resorting to physical force for any reason was more than evident on most educational campuses.

Menendez said, “Ensign Stone, how you feel isn’t the problem! The corpsman gave you a full treatment of marine combat nanites, the best the empire has to offer. They should simply overwrite your navy nanites, flushing the less enhanced nanites out of your system. However, something has interfered with the programmed flush. The nanites have combined in your system. The marine nanites have subverted the navy ones to their own uses and instead of attacking the drasco DNA as they should any invading virus, they have begun to combine and mutate.”

No one had mentioned this to Stone before. He shook his head. “I don’t understand. I’m going to mutate into some kind of marine drasco?”

Menendez shook her head. “Don’t be silly. DNA doesn’t work that way, neither will a broad spectrum nanite. All we know is that you should be sick or already dead.”

SEVEN

Stone gave a little internal shiver as LCDR Butcher shouted at him for the umpteenth time since leaving Lazzaroni Station. He should be used to Butcher’s tirades during their daily conferences by now, but he wasn’t. He didn’t appreciate being yelled at for things beyond his control and he didn’t imagine anyone ever did. Every time the man lost his temper, he directed his anger at Stone. Shouting was only the first stage of the commander’s anger. The man would quickly change into stomping around a room, spittle flying, eyes red, and fists clenched. The next step involved throwing things, never at anyone, just throwing anything not welded onto the deck.

The XO, LTSG Bhutros, seemed to sleep through Butcher’s fits of rage as if they weren’t happening. The planetary staff attending the conferences politely ignored the tirades. No reports of his temper tantrums ever made it into the daily logs. Someone even thoughtfully and carefully scrubbed all video records. Stone’s only proof of how he was harangued was located on his personal assistant. Recordings were running constantly since he and his drasco’s had boarded the UEN Vasco de Gama.

Stone understood Butcher’s assignment frustrations. Neither he nor the commander was happy about going to Allie’s World. An explorer third class wasn’t a combat vessel and Butcher hadn’t earned his combat command red stripe. Butcher far outranked the lowest ranking ensign in the navy, yet having said ensign wear a combat command stripe while you didn’t, might drive a normal person to the ragged edge of rage. But, it wasn’t right to take it out on him.

MCPO Thomas had caught him filling out an official complaint and stopped him. Thomas explained Butcher’s anger wasn’t all about the red combat command stripe, some, but not all. Butcher’s first ship command had been a higher rated vessel than the Vasco de Gama. Taking command of an explorer third class was a step backward. Backward meant Butcher’s career, while not over, had peaked. The man couldn’t take his frustration out on the enlisted, not his own crew or the crew in transit to Allie’s World. As a ship commander, Butcher couldn’t exercise his emotional overloads on the other ship’s officers. They were in his chain of command and he needed a close working relationship with his XO and his chief engineer.

All the planetary staff was under Stone’s authority, as was 1LT Hammermill, the marine platoon officer, so Butcher certainly couldn’t vent his frustration at any of the sixty-four marines on board or the civilian scientists. Dr. Mohamed, a planetologist, was in charge of the scientific staff and acting as his assistant was Dr. Triplett, the xeno-biologist intent on dissecting his drascos. Both of the civilians already evidenced a remarkable distaste for all things military. A naval officer verbally berating any Emperor appointed scientist would evaporate Butcher’s career.

Stone was shocked to learn his orders made him the overall ground commander on Allie’s World, not for just the navy, but the civilians, the medical corps, and the marine security contingent—a full company of marines, 260 men counting officers. Three of the four marine platoons were already on Allie’s World, the fourth platoon led by 1LT Hammermill was with him in transit. Once on the planet, he would have to file all reports through his communications staff led by none other than the overly sexy PO3 Tammie Ryte to the Vasco de Gama and LCDR Butcher in orbital overwatch.

Butcher wasn’t his supervisor, just the channel for his reports. Stone’s direct supervisor was the commander-in-chief himself, the Emperor. He couldn’t blame the Emperor for scrubbing away the tradition navy chain of command. Stone had done it to himself. Upon discovery of the planet, he’d taken a sixty-five percent ownership, giving twenty-five percent to Danielle Wright and offering only ten percent to the Emperor. The Emperor wasn’t a dummy. He may be the minority owner of Allie’s World, but he’d managed to place himself in overall control of the exploitation of the world by putting himself in command of the majority owner.

They were still a week away from jumping into hyperspace and jumping out again into the area near Allie’s World. Butcher’s rants grew louder the longer they delayed the jump into Allie’s World’s solar system. People were crowded, stacked, and racked in every nook and cranny of the tiny ship. Stone could only wonder how bad Butcher’s frustration might become on-board the ship once Stone went down to the planet and the man didn’t have anyone left to yell at.

Butcher shouted, “What the hell do you mean you never caught a clear picture of these night stalker creatures during your first time on the planet? All we have is this fuzzy picture of a half dozen of them stalking some house-sized tree-eating shit-making monster. Those were high-resolution shuttle cameras, right?”

“Sir, we never managed to record them again. We did record in the highest resolution possible, but those things, whatever they are, are still fuzzy no matter how you tweak the recording. Frankly, the only time we saw them was at dusk and we tried to be locked up tight before nightfall. We didn’t want to go looking for those things.”

“Then how the hell is anyone supposed to defend against them?”

“All we had were survival knives. Most shuttles are not stocked with tactical nukes.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass, Ensign.”

“Sorry, Commander Butcher. We never saw them in packs of less than six. One looked too dangerous to go up against with only a knife. We were concerned more about survival, not doing a flora and fauna study. I don’t know if we can defend against them. Maybe they’re fuzzy in the pictures because they’re out of phase with the universe, vibrating in and out. For all I know, they can phase through shields, ship’s bulkheads and marine armor.” Stone noted how both 1LT Hammermill and Dr. Triplett made notes about such a possibility.

Dr. Mohamed was in this meeting, yet he rarely spoke. His contempt for the military was even more evident than Dr. Triplett’s. After repeated attempts to be put in charge, but having no way to overrule the Emperor’s fiat putting Stone in charge, the man sat and sulked, his hulking frame hunched over his dataport display. The man was older than his assistant, but no less fit. While she appeared to be a long distance runner, Mohamed looked like a weightlifter.

After Stone’s first meeting with the pair and their dismissive attitude toward his leadership, MCPO Thomas told Stone to ignore them as their manner was common on educational campuses throughout the empire. Thomas let slip about his master’s degree in engineering that he’d earned it at the Navy’s Non-Commissioned Officer College on Strathmore Upon Drumme. Even 1LT Hammermill ignored their constant jibes at the military, only mentioning in passing that he’d earned his degree in mathematics through the Marine Corps online college. Stone knew he would have to earn a degree to get promoted past lieutenant junior grade. Military educations were dismissed by civilian scientists across the empire as being somehow beneath their own.

“Yes.” Butcher tried to take a deep breath to calm his jangled nerves. He failed, rounding on Stone again. “And control your marines, dammit. That corporal, what’s her name? Tuttle, has tried jumping every swinging dick on this ship. It’s a small ship, but it isn’t that small. Get her under control or I will have her locked up for the betterment of moral.”

Stone wanted to say morale always seemed to improve when Corporal Tuttle was around. Morale improved especially for the men, but even the women with boyfriends and husbands didn’t seem to mind much since Barb never tried to steal their men, just borrow them for a little friendly bedsheet mambo, quickly giving them back better than she found them. So far, Stone managed to avoid her advances, in spite of that he often wondered where she found privacy on the overly crowded ship. He was a guy, so wondering about Tuttle and Ryte was a daily occurrence, yet Allie still occupied his mind.

Stone wanted to say that, but he didn’t. “Yes, sir. I will speak with Lieutenant Hammermill and with Lance Corporal Tuttle personally about her conduct.”

“Just get her to dial it back or at least, try to get her to be discrete, Ensign.”

Stone glanced at Hammermill. The marine tried not to smile. His eyes rolled as if he knew getting Tuttle to be discrete was like trying to ask her not to breathe for an hour or so.

Butcher continued in a calmer voice, “We only have one week before exiting out Brickman’s Station space and entering into hyperspace. Navigation assures me we will achieve orbital insertion around Allie’s World a few hours later. We only have three small personnel shuttles and one freight shuttle for debarkation. It will take half a dozen trips each to get the planetary contingent off my ship. Hell! Even our freight shuttle can’t take any more than your two pets at one time.” He glared at Stone as if the size of his command was his fault.

“Yes, sir.” Stone couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“You will provide me with a load out schedule by the end of the day.”

For the first time in days Dr. Mohamed spoke, his voice booming as if he were no less used to having his commands obeyed than LCDR Butcher. “Ensign Stone, my team must go to the planet first. We have work we must begin as—”

1LT Hammermill interrupted, “With all due respect to the good doctor. My marines should go first.”

Mohamed said, “Your marines may be more cramped than my scientists, but that isn’t any reason—”

“It’s got nothing to do with space. It’s about security.”

Dr. Triplett spoke, her voice old, reedy, sure, and confident. “I understand there are already three platoons on marines on the ground for our protection.”

Hammermill replied, “Sure, but—”

MCPO Thomas said, “Ladies and gentlemen, as ground commander, protocol demands Ensign Stone and his personal staff debark first.”

Stone blanched at the thought of going outside again. He was saved from commenting by Butcher shouting, “Enough squabbling, I don’t need to hear this. Stone, get it figured out.” He stormed out of the room.

Everyone started talking the minute the door closed behind him. Stone listened to the babble and tried to diagram the debarkation to meet everybody’s wishes. He was hopelessly fouled in minutes. No matter what he did, he wasn’t going to make everyone happy. The last time he had taken command of a ship, everyone was happy except him—well, him and those who ended up being arrested. He smiled. This time he would make himself happy.