The Clones of Mawcett (46 page)

Absorbed in looking for the entrance to the shop she was seeking, Jenetta was totally unprepared when Cayla suddenly snarled viciously and bounded away. She hadn't even had time to call out to her when Tayna followed suit. Jenetta's initial reaction to the movement of the big cats probably saved her life. As she leaned into a running position from an upright walking position, in order to race after the cats, a laser shot passed over her right shoulder. Jenetta identified the location of the shooter just in time to avoid being hit by a second shot that barely missed her head as she dove for the ground. A third shot went wildly into the ceiling as Cayla reached the shooter and leapt upon him. Her hundred-sixty pounds, magnified greatly by the momentum of her charge, were more than enough to knock the shooter to the deck. Before he even landed, Tanya was also atop him. Only one more shot was fired, but because Tanya had already clamped her powerful jaws around his right forearm, snapping the bones like toothpicks, it too went wild.

Seeing that the shooter was down, Jenetta jumped to her feet and raced the fifteen meters to where the cats were fighting with the attacker. Touching her SC ring, she said quickly, “Security, shots fired, Concourse, B Street between Third and Fourth Avenues. Carver out.”

It was likely that security had already seen the commotion on their monitors and dispatched Marines, but the call would alert them if they had missed it. Jenetta picked up the weapon from where it had fallen when Tanya broke the attacker's arm, and called to the cats.

“Cayla, Tayna, release him,” she commanded loudly.

As if the cats understood her words, they immediately calmed down and released the shooter, who had already ceased struggling. Shoppers, climbing to their feet now that the shooting had ended, looked on with horrified expressions as the cats rose from the prone body and padded calmly towards Jenetta, blood dripping from their muzzles. A half dozen security personnel arrived just as the cats took up their usual positions at Jenetta's side. Blood was pooling quickly around the attacker's upper torso as Jenetta handed the weapon to one of the Marines.

“Have you called for a corpsman?” Jenetta asked the staff sergeant who appeared to be the senior NCO at the site.

“They're on their way, Commander. What happened here, ma'am?”

“I was walking along when the man on the floor over there opened fire. I assume I was the target. My cats took him down, but he got off four shots before they stopped him. You'd better check to see if anyone's been hit.”

Two medical corpsmen arrived as the security people spread out and started querying the crowd to see if anyone had been wounded. The corpsmen worked furiously for a few minutes before determining that the attacker was beyond any help they could offer. They relaxed noticeably for a couple of seconds then stood up. As one covered the attacker's upper body with a thin piece of white material, the other approached Jenetta.

“He's gone, Commander. He was as good as dead when we arrived.” Looking down at the bloody muzzles on the cats, he said, “One of your cats ripped out his throat. It appears his larynx was crushed and the neck snapped. His heart continued to pump out blood for a few minutes, but he was beyond help by the time we reached him.”

“Okay, Sergeant,” Jenetta said, “see that the body is delivered to the morgue and tell them to perform a full autopsy.”

“Yes, ma'am. Would you like me to have a look at your cat's foreleg?”

Jenetta hadn't noticed until then that Tayna was holding her right front leg in a slightly raised position. She immediately dropped to her knees and lifted the leg for a look.

“It looks like she was hit by a laser shot,” Jenetta said. “It's a deep graze, but the wound was cauterized by the laser. I imagine it's painful.”

“I have something that will help,” the corpsman said.

Retrieving a pneumatic injector from his kit he kneeled down and reached for the leg. Tanya snarled a warning and he stopped.

“It's all right, baby,” Jenetta said. “Let him fix your leg.”

Looking at Jenetta, the corpsman asked quizzically, “Do they understand Amer, ma'am?”

“I know very little about their species, no one does, but they always understand whatever I say to them. She'll let you touch her now.”

When the corpsman reached out again, the cat didn't resist or growl a warning. She allowed the corpsman to examine the wound, clean it and spray on a bandage, and then use the pneumatic device to inject an antibiotic and mild anodyne.

“It's not serious, Commander. As you said, she was just grazed. She'll be all right in a few days.”

“Thank you, Sergeant.”

“My pleasure, ma'am,” he said, smiling. “I'm always happy to help a hero, regardless of their species.”

As Jenetta stood up, she said, “Yes, I guess they saved my life.”

The senior security man returned and said, “No one was hit by the laser shots except you, Commander. Three shots were terminated by walls, and one shot terminated in the ceiling.”

“I wasn't hit, Sergeant.”

“Yes, ma'am, you were. Look at your right shoulder.”

Jenetta felt at her shoulder, then pulled at the fabric of her tunic so she could see the area. Her insignia of rank had been neatly sliced in half, and a burn crease extended across the epaulet. “Hmm, that first shot came closer than I thought.” Looking back at the security man, she said, “Clean up here, Sergeant. I'm going to the security center.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Twenty minutes later Jenetta was seated in the security center watching replays from the concourse vid cameras with the duty officer, Lt. Blumenthal. She had taken time to wash the blood from the faces and paws of the two cats.

“Here's the assailant,” the lieutenant said, pointing to the screen. “He appeared just a few minutes before you arrived, and took up a position against the wall. He must have received information from a confederate that you were headed his way since you say your shopping trip hadn't been planned.”

Jenetta watched the tape several times before saying, “It certainly appears that this was a planned assassination attempt, but they couldn't have known what store I was headed for.”

“How do you suppose your cats knew he presented a threat to you, Commander? He didn't pull the pistol out from under the jacket draped over his arm until after the first cat started to race towards him. If your cats hadn't spotted him, he probably would have waited until you were much closer. He couldn't have missed you once you were only a couple of meters away.”

“Either they noticed him staring at me, or they're even more intuitive than I suspected. I'm surprised that he fired at me at all once Cayla started towards him. If he was smart he would have either run away or fired at her.”

“Perhaps he was firing at her, but she was moving too fast,” Blumenthal offered.

“No, he was definitely firing at me. I didn't see him fire the first shot, but I marked him before the second, and he was watching me all the way. After seeing the vid record I'm more sure of that than ever. He completely ignored the cats until they were practically on him.”

“He must have felt they didn't present much of a threat. Perhaps he thought they had just gotten away from you, like ill-behaved pets. The other people on the concourse didn't appear to be afraid of them.”

“That will probably change now. The expressions on the faces in the crowd when my cats climbed off the attacker's body spoke volumes.”

“Oh, I don't know. Everyone knows that the cats only attacked someone that was attempting to assassinate you.”

Jenetta nodded absently. “If our assassin had a confederate, we might be able to spot him from the vid logs. In fact, there might have been several assassins, since my destination was unknown. Scan all the logs for ten minutes before I arrived on the concourse, looking for anyone suspicious who might have been tailing me. If you spot anyone, backtrack their movements and see if they met up with anyone else.”

“Aye, Commander.”

“Let me know as soon as you learn the identity of the attacker, and find out how he got on the station.”

“Aye, Commander.”

“I think that I've had enough shopping for tonight. I'm headed for my quarters. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, ma'am.”

By the next morning, several reports about the attack were waiting for Jenetta in her computer. After making a cup of coffee, she read each carefully. The cause of death was officially recorded as severe trauma to the neck and spine. There was evidence of both suffocation and cardiac arrest, compounded by a severe loss of blood. Tests revealed that the assailant had probably felt little pain because of the high levels of narcotics found in his system, most of which were illegal substances. The broken right arm was listed as an incidental injury.

The attacker had been identified, and traced to a freighter that had arrived the morning of the attack. A search of his quarters aboard the freighter and his possessions revealed nothing. The movements of several other Terrans on the concourse had been labeled as suspicious, and a search for them had commenced immediately, but each of them had left the station within an hour of the attack and their whereabouts were unknown. Their images had been added to the 'wanted for questioning' files, and if they entered any Space Command base in the future, they would be immediately arrested for interrogation. Since all were Terrans, the images had been sent to Earth in the hope that they could be identified.

With the attacker dead, and all of the other suspects gone, there was little more that could be done. The case would remain open until all of the suspects were found and interrogated, or Space Command was sure of their deaths.

The_Clones_of_Mawcett

Chapter Twenty-Two

~ October 23rd, 2271 ~

Almost exactly one year to the day since being appointed as Base Commander, Jenetta received a visit from a Space Command officer who had just arrived aboard the GSC Destroyer Havana. Captain Carlton Desmond eyed Jenetta's big cats suspiciously and nervously as he accepted the offer of a chair. They eyed him as well as they languidly rested against the outer walls of the office. Their open eyes and an occasional flick of their tails were the only indications that they weren't sleeping.

Desmond, having been born and raised in Buenos Aires, was a graduate of SHSA, the Southern Hemisphere Space Academy, class of '30. Dark Latino features belied his Anglo name. His black, wavy hair was beginning to silver slightly at the temples, and Jenetta wondered if he touched up the narrow moustache that graced his upper lip. Twenty-six years Jenetta's senior, the disparity of ages was amplified by Jenetta's appearance as a twenty-one year old, even though she was chronologically thirty-six now.

“Welcome to Dixon Space Port, Captain,” Jenetta said in greeting.

“Thank you, Commander. It's a pleasure to meet you. I was admiring your operation as I walked here. The base looks clean, efficiently organized, and well run.”

“Yes sir, we've come a long way in the past year.”

“I sort of feel guilty about taking over after you've worked so hard to establish this base and get it operating so splendidly.”

“Pardon me, sir? Taking over?”

“Yes, Commander. Here are my orders.”

Jenetta accepted the data ring that he held out and touched it to the spindle in the media drawer on her desk before handing it back. The table of contents only listed one message and she tapped the play button to view it. An image of Vice-Admiral Raymond Burke, the director of SC Base Operations, appeared on the com screen. He ordered Captain Desmond to proceed immediately to Dixon Space Port and assume command of the base. The data ring and message was verified as being genuine.

“I'm speechless, Captain,” Jenetta said, clearly bewildered.

“Weren't you informed of my pending arrival?”

“I was told a year ago that I would be relieved as soon as a permanent replacement could be found. I suppose it took them a long time to find the right individual, but I've heard nothing about anyone actually coming to take command.”

“You should have been informed of my imminent arrival. I've been on my way here for six months. I guess somebody messed up.”

“Well, you're here now, sir. I'll move my things out of the Base Commander's quarters today and you can move in tonight. I'll move my personal effects from this office to an empty office down the corridor this afternoon.”

“There's no need to move out until you're ready to go to the ship.”

“The ship, sir?”

“Yes. I'm not here to take command and push you into a supporting role, Commander. You're to proceed to Higgins on the Havana, leaving in about seventy-two hours. That will give me a couple of days to become acclimated, before I officially assume station command. I'll move into temporary quarters for the time being. I can tell you that I'll sure be glad to get out of the ship. I was getting more than a bit claustrophobic after six months on board.”

“Very well, sir. Our VIP suites are well appointed, and quite spacious. I don't think you'll feel cramped in there. Are your bags still aboard the Havana?”

“Yes.”

Jenetta lifted the com screen and pushed a button. When the image of her aide appeared, she said, “Jason, Captain Desmond has arrived with orders to take over command of this station. Please arrange quarters for him in the VIP section until I can vacate my quarters. His bags are still aboard the Havana. Arrange with housing to have them picked up and brought to his suite.”

“Take command, ma'am?”

“Yes, Jason. He's to be the new Base Commander of Dixon.”

“Yes ma'am.”

Jenetta pushed the view screen down. “Captain, would you like me to give you a tour of the base now?”

“Yes I would, Commander. I've really been looking forward to it.”

The big cats rose as Jenetta stood. Turning towards them, she said, “Cayla, Tayna, stay here.” Both cats immediately sank to prone positions again.

“They seem very well behaved, Commander. Are they for your protection?”

“I acquired them from an Alyysian trader that I arrested. He couldn't very well take them to prison, and wouldn't have wanted to anyway. They were just trade goods to him. I originally kept them as companions, but they did save me from an assassin recently.”

“An assassin? On the base?”

“Yes, he attempted to end my career in Space Command with a laser pistol. My cats somehow sensed his intentions and terminated his career instead. Tayna broke the arm holding the weapon while Cayla ripped out his throat. He was dead in minutes.”

Captain Desmond's face immediately adopted a sickly look and color, and his right hand went involuntarily to his throat. He swallowed hard as he listened to the story. “Where did this happen; near your quarters?”

“No, the assassin could never have reached my quarters, or even this office, with a laser pistol. The energy signature from the power pack would have set off alarms at a dozen different points. It occurred on the shopping concourse, because that's the only place he could have carried the pistol. He never would have gotten it onto the base on his person, so it must have been brought in by a merchant, secreted in legitimate cargo.”

“Aren't incoming shipments checked?”

“They are now, but originally we weren't able to check as thoroughly as we would have liked. I'm sure that some weapons and contraband slipped through in the early months when we were so terribly shorthanded.”

“Of course.”

“We've installed sensors on every block of the concourse since the attempt, so you can't carry a weapon's charged power pack more than fifty meters without setting off an alarm. The new sensors also detect gunpowder and explosives.”

“Who was behind the assassination attempt, Commander?”

“We don't know, but I imagine it was a Raider operation.” Smiling, Jenetta added, “They don't seem to like me very much.”

“I can understand that. You escaped their clutches and destroyed their base, and since then have thwarted them at every turn. Every time they've suffered a serious blow, you've either been behind it or a party to it.”

“Yes, I suppose I've given them enough reasons to dislike me. Why don't we start our tour and we can talk as we walk?”

Over the next six hours, Jenetta took Captain Desmond on a complete tour of the base, all eighteen levels. She learned that until six months ago, then 'Commander' Desmond had been the Port Operations Officer at Fallsworth SCB. He was posted to Dixon SCB as the new CO when his promotion came through. When Jenetta introduced him as the new Base Commander to the senior officers in each area, their surprise was naturally as genuine as hers had been. The normal tour of duty for a senior officer was five years, unless that officer had done something seriously wrong, necessitating recall. Rumors immediately began to circulate. Some said that she was being recalled to receive another promotion and her own ship, while others said that she must have said or done something to infuriate the Admiralty Board.

Completing their tour of the base about dinnertime, Jenetta and Captain Desmond walked to the Base Commander's dining room for dinner after Jenetta had taken the cats to her quarters and fed them. Jenetta rarely ate alone, and should have been entertaining the senior staff of the Havana tonight, but there was a great deal to discuss with Captain Desmond so she hadn't contacted the Havana's captain. She would be sure to invite him tomorrow night for her last official dinner as base commander.

Jenetta and Captain Desmond spoke for hours as Jenetta tried to prepare him for his new post to the greatest extent possible in the limited time available.

When arriving at the Base Commander's office at 0648 hours the next morning, Captain Desmond was surprised to learn that Jenetta had already been working for an hour. He stayed by her side throughout the rest of the day as she performed her duties. Things had backed up a little because of the six-hour tour the day before and they had little time for personal discussion.

At 1800 hours Jenetta finished up in her office and left for her quarters to get ready for dinner with the senior staff of the Havana. Captain Desmond left to change also.

Entertaining the staff of the Havana was just one more dinner party in a long line of dinner parties. She was once again implored to provide details about her adventures and she accommodated the officers, describing the actions that she had taken, to the delight of her audience. Having only heard rumors about the latest assassination attempt, everyone wanted to hear the details.

Jenetta spent one more day helping Captain Desmond ease into the job as Base Commander and then at 1600 hours he officially relieved her of command. Captain Desmond requested that she have dinner with him, and she agreed, although she'd planned to get an early start on her packing.

Arriving at the Base Commander's dining room, she found it empty. Even the mess attendant was absent. Expecting the Captain, as the new base commander, to call ahead and advise the dining room staff of the number expected for dinner, Jenetta hadn't performed the simple daily chore. Captain Desmond arrived a few seconds later.

“Did you call the mess attendant and tell him we'd be dining here, sir?”

“No, is that necessary?”

“I always call ahead so they know how many to expect.”

“Well, too late now. Why don't we just eat in the officer's mess?”

“Okay. It'll give me another chance to say goodbye to some of my people. Excuse me, your people now.”

Located on the other side of the kitchen, the officer's mess hall was just a short walk away. As they entered, everyone stood and began applauding. Banners expressing goodbye and good luck messages, hung from the walls and ceiling.

“Your aide asked me to bring you here tonight so the senior officers could all say goodbye,” Captain Desmond explained.

The dinner turned into a real party after the meal was finished, and Jenetta spent time with each officer thanking him or her for their hard work and loyal service. It was almost 2200 hours before she was able to get away and return to her quarters to begin packing her things.

Jenetta marveled at how much she'd managed to accumulate during the past year as the impossibility of fitting it all into her spacechest and suitcases became apparent. She only managed to complete her packing after she had several empty shipping cartons brought to her quarters. The wall chronometer was displaying 0302 when she slipped tiredly into bed. It was strange to be leaving. She hadn't formed the attachment that she'd formed with her ships, but it still felt very strange to be going away.

Up early the following morning, Jenetta prepared to leave her quarters after stacking her bags by the door. She performed a quick double-check, just to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything, and left the apartment with her cats. As she took a last walk through the well-illuminated and colorfully decorated shopping concourse, she remembered back to how it had looked when she had first assumed command. It had simply been a dim, somber, storage area then.

After her nostalgic look around, she walked directly to the Havana. At the airlock entrance, she saluted the OD and said, “Permission to come aboard?”

The lieutenant (jg) on duty eyed the big cats nervously as he saluted and replied, “Granted, and welcome Commander. If you'll wait just a minute, I'll have the housing officer come down to show you to your quarters.”