Infinity's End: Books 4-6, page 72
“The Athru?” Volf asked.
“It’s what they call themselves,” Cas replied. “They’re down on the planet. Or at least…they were.”
“We haven’t spoken to the Coalition, but there’s another, more serious problem,” Volf said.
“Which should wait until we have gathered everyone,” Zenfor said. “I don’t want to repeat myself on this subject.”
Cas caught Volf wince slightly, but she nodded in agreement. “Yes, very well. The captain, is she—critical?”
“The captain…” Cas began before stopping himself. He hadn’t decided what to tell people; he’d been too concerned with getting off the planet and back into space. And now that they found themselves on a damage-free ship that was ready to rocket back to the Coalition he wasn’t sure what to do. He needed time to think about it. “She suffered some head injuries down on the planet. I don’t know how much longer she’ll be out. In fact, I should go check on her.” He peeled off toward one of the access corridors.
“Where are you going?” Zenfor asked. “The hypervator is this way.”
Cas stopped short. “Right. I guess I’d just gotten so used to taking the corridors everywhere. It’s only been a day or two since this ship was falling apart around me.”
“Now I really wish I’d gone down with wave one,” Volf said.
“If you had access to the stasis units—” Cas began.
“—how come I look so much older? Not all of us stayed inside the entire time. We had more crew than stasis units, so we had to keep switching out. And in those early days when the ship still couldn’t generate a stable life support system we were in and out of enviro-suits a lot too. But the longer time dragged on, the more repairs we ended up doing, mostly to keep us busy. I didn’t want to stay in one of those stasis units and wake up fifty years later to find myself in the exact same situation. Most of us didn’t. And once we had large sections of the ship repaired life on board got easier. I stayed out a total of seven years.”
“Seven years, two hundred and twelve days,” Zenfor corrected.
Volf rolled her eyes. “Some stayed out longer. Others shorter. It depended on the person. And after we lost the four space in the stasis units became less of an issue.”
They reached the hypervator and the doors opened immediately. “I’m guessing you didn’t take any time inside.” Cas grinned at Zenfor.
“Eighteen years for me is like two for you. I enjoyed the solace.” She didn’t grin as she said it. That was more like the Zenfor he knew.
The doors opened on level fourteen where sickbay was located. Cas stepped off as Volf and Zenfor attempted to follow. “Actually, I need you guys to gather the senior staff.” Until he decided what to do, the fewer people that saw Evie the better. “I’ll speak with Xax about the captain’s…condition. I’m sure we have a lot of confused crew members on this ship right now and we need to give them as much information as we can all at once. Get the staff together, then we’ll join you in—”
“—the conference room.” Volf said.
Right. Because everything was fixed. “Yes, in the conference room in about fifteen minutes. Make a ship wide announcement that we’ll be informing the crew of the situation shortly.”
Volf hesitated then stepped back inside the hypervator. “Yes, sir.” Zenfor gave him a strange look but then the doors slid closed and they were gone. Cas let out a breath of relief he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He turned and jogged down the corridor to sickbay. But before he got inside he could already hear the commotion.
The doors opened to reveal nurses running about with patients on beds and yelling for some relief. Cas spotted Box across the room as he was hunched over a crewmember, his one eye still dark and his arm useless at his side. Even damaged he was still committed to providing the best care he could. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad doctor after all.
Strong arms encircled Cas and compressed his entire body together to the point Cas thought he might crack a rib. The arms let go and spun Cas around so he was face-to-face with Dorsey Ryant, one of the few spacewing pilots who hadn’t gone down to the surface. Ryant had been scheduled to go down with Wave Three.
“It’s been so long amigo!” Ryant said, holding Cas by the shoulders. He was a good ten centimeters taller than Cas, and despite the age Cas could see on his face and in his eyes, he still had those damn flight goggles perched on the top of his head. “You must have some really good genes,” he said, looking Cas over.
“No it’s just the—”
“Time-dilation, I know,” Ryant said with a grin. “Jann already told me. I was just messing with you.” He motioned over to the bed were Jann sat, her legs prone out in front of her, both ankles encased in a machine emanating a blue light. Cas glanced at Box who seemed engrossed in his care. He didn’t see Evie on any of the beds. He could spare a few minutes.
“Can you believe it?” Jann asked as he and Ryant approached. “Eighteen years.”
“Well, not for all of us,” Ryant replied. “I’ve only been out for a collective four years. Gotta keep that youthful glow.” He motioned to his face.
“What glow?” Jann said. “You just look more curmudgeonly to me.”
“Ha. Ha. I’ll have you know I spent most of that time practicing my dogfighting skills. I bet I could do circles around even you,” he said.
“Yeah? I’d like to see you try.” Jann moved to get up and the machine repairing her ankles buzzed loudly. She settled back into her original position. “After.”
“After,” he agreed.
Cas heard the sickbay door open and close again, but didn’t think much of it until Jann narrowed her eyes. He turned to see Chief Diana Rafnkell, leader of the spacewing squadron standing beside him, glowering at the three of them. She was covered in dirt and grime, and her blonde hair was matted and hanging in her eyes, but she seemed not to notice.
“Saturina, Dorsey. All right?”
“Sure, Chief,” Dorsey said, hesitant.
“Just getting my legs patched up,” Jann replied.
Rafnkell turned to stare at Cas a moment, then walked away, leaving sickbay the way she came. Something had been off about her ever since they’d caught up with wave one down on the planet. Laura had said she’d been uncharacteristically quiet down there, and Cas still couldn’t figure out why.
“That seem odd to you?” Ryant asked.
“Yeah,” Cas replied, still watching the door, half expecting her to come right back through.
“Oh good. I thought maybe it had just been so long—”
“If you guys don’t mind, I need to go check on the captain.” Ryant nodded while something like a shadow crossed Jann’s face. Cas couldn’t be sure, but she didn’t know anything, did she? They’d been at one of the spacewings, attempting to get it up and running when Box had sent him a comm, telling him what Evie had done. And by the time they got back to camp, it was all over and Evie was unconscious on the ground as Xax tried to save her victims. Not that Xax knew either. Box had assured him there had been no witnesses.
Cas shook the thoughts from his mind, he needed to take care of this right now, before it got out of control. He flashed a quick and disingenuous smile before leaving them to find Box.
As he reached his old friend he got a very good view of just how much he’d been damaged. Things had been so chaotic on the surface, not to mention they’d been running for their lives half the time and the other half they’d been inside a dark temple where he couldn’t half see his hand in front of his face. In addition to being blind in one eye and a useless arm hanging at his side, Box had multiple dents, scratches, and injuries. Two of his primary servos on his neck had been severed when Evie had hit him inside that temple. And his other arm still sported the makeshift bandage Cas had used to stem the flow of fluid leaking from his system. He was looking over one of the security personnel who Cas could only assume had gone toe-to-toe with the bear-things on the surface, as he had multiple gashes and contusions across his body.
“How is he?” Cas asked, approaching them.
“The crewman here will be fine,” Box said, “As long as he doesn’t move and we get him into surgery as soon as we can. I’ve placed him in a stasis field for the moment.”
Cas glanced around, there was no one else close to them. “What about Evie?”
“She’s in the back. The doc wanted to take a look at her after she finished with Zaal.” Box didn’t take his eyes from the screen.
“Is he going to be—”
“Too soon to tell. It will be close.”
“And Martial?”
Box finally turned to look at him. “In one of the stasis units in the morgue. I sealed it off with my personal security code.”
Cas nodded. He needed more time before Xax examined Evie. If Xax woke her up and Evie remembered everything she did… “I need you to move Evie and all her…victims…into the stasis units as well,” Cas whispered.
“Why?” Box asked.
“Just trust me, okay? Do it before she gets a chance to get a good look at any of them. We don’t have time to argue.” He didn’t mean to sound so frantic, but he knew that’s how it came out.
Something within Box made a clicking sound. “You need to tell me why.”
“Trust me, I’ll explain everything later. Just get them in there, fast. Tell Xax you found they were contaminated with something.”
“You realize she already examined Laura’s body, right?” Cas gritted his teeth. He’d forgotten.
“Okay then, just lock up Evie, say she was contaminated. It’s not a lie.” But it was a stretch. And Xax wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t like she’d never seen injuries from swords before. Box might not go for it.
“For how long?”
“Just a few hours. I’ve got a senior staff meeting. I’ll be back down to explain everything later.” Box hesitated. Cas didn’t like it either, but if they told everyone Evie killed seven crew members with her own hands without a reasonable explanation, there would be a full-on mutiny. “As a favor to me.”
Box dropped his metal shoulders. “Fine. As a favor to you.”
The adventure continues in INFINITY’S END BOOKS 7-9. Available March 2021
THE INTERVIEW – AN INFINITY’S END SHORT STORY
Author’s Note:
This story takes place during the events of Book 3: DARKEST REACH, between chapters five and six
“I don’t see how this is a good idea, Zyrr.”
The slender Yax-Inax waved off the Commander’s concerns. “Gather yourself, Donovan. This is fine. The people will want to know, especially when word gets out.”
“Word will not be getting out.” Donovan’s face contorted into a snarl.
Zyrr tsked. “You’re an idiot, Donovan. You can’t keep something like this secret forever. Someone, somewhere, will let word about the Tempest slip and everyone will be clamoring to know what’s going on. Wouldn’t you rather we have something to give them rather than let them make up their own narrative about a possible secret Coalition mission to deep space?”
Donovan kicked at the ground. “The Admiral won’t like it.”
“Let me deal with the Admiral,” Zyrr replied. “He won’t say no to me. You just keep our interviewees on schedule. I want to try and get through as many of these as possible.”
Donovan surveyed the wide, bright room while Zyrr adjusted her equipment. She’d picked this location specifically, as the artificial light in here made it look more like they were on the surface of a planet rather than in one of the natural parks in Starbase Eight. According to the research, natural settings made the audience more sympathetic, though in this case that probably wouldn’t be necessary. If she could spin this thing right the entire Coalition would be behind the Tempest story before it was over.
“You’re interviewing the Sil?” Donovan asked. Zyrr glanced up to see him going over her interview schedule.
She strode over and snatched it from his hands, leaving him standing there with a shocked look on his face. “Don’t get nosy. Let’s start with the lower ranked officers and work our way up. Get the first one in here, I want to burn through these.”
Donovan glanced around. “Where’s your interviewer?”
Zyrr stared at the ceiling with her six glassy eyes. “Kor, how does Dix deal with you? I’m the interviewer, you imbecile.”
“Good morning. Please tell us your name, rank and current assignment.” Zyrr smiled with her small mouth, crossing her bottom two arms while her top left held on to the recorder. She had a second, secret recorder hidden in the palm of her lower right hand, as backup. It was always a good idea to have redundancies. How many interviews had she had to splice together because one of the recorders cut out or a subject moved?
The young red-headed man before her shifted in his seat. “Uh, Braxius Tyler. Ensign. Officially my position is secondary Engineer but honestly most of my duties involve translating for Commander Sesster.”
Zyrr leaned forward. Interesting, fresh meat already. “So you’re a translator.”
Tyler grimaced. “I guess. I mean, a computer could do my job if it had to.” He paused. “Haha, no, that’s obviously—can I start over? I’m not good at this.”
Zyrr smiled, keeping her demeanor sweet. “You’re doing just fine. Now, how long have you been assigned to the USCS Tempest?”
“About a year.” He shifted again.
“And how did you come to be given such a prestigious assignment?” Zyrr asked.
“Well, it’s kinda funny…” He feigned laughter again, telling Zyrr it was anything but.
“Go on.”
His face dropped. “Well, I was only a season out of the academy and they had me on load duty here on Eight.”
“You were in waste management.”
Finally, Tyler relaxed a little, dropping his guard. “Yeah. You know how it is, brand new grunts get the hardest jobs.”
Zyrr smiled again, a little empathy went a long way. “It’s the same in my line of work. You have to work your way up. No shortcuts.”
Tyler nodded. “Except in my case, there was. I was down near the cleanouts when I heard him. Right in my mind, like he was there beside me.”
Zyrr leaned in. “You mean Commander Sesster, he spoke to you.”
Tyler fumbled with his hands. “If you’re not used to it, it can scare the shit out of you. Can I say that in an interview? Sorry, I’ve never been in the feeds before.”
She flipped her empty hand. “We’ll edit it out. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, describe the nature of the Claxians. For our viewers who may need a refresher. Or those who have never had the pleasure of meeting a Claxian.”
At this, Tyler straightened up. Ah, so he liked being asked about his expertise. “Sure. Yeah, I can do that. So Claxians, for those who don’t know, don’t have any vocal cords, or mouths. Or eyes. They communicate telepathically. But not every sentient species, or every sentient being for that matter, can hear them. Usually people like me are screened early in the academy, but sometimes the ability can be latent. And a Claxian reaching out can be what activates the latency in our systems.”
“So then, it’s possible anyone can be one of these ‘conduits’?”
His mouth turned into a frown. “Well, I mean, I guess so. But it’s a rare ability.”
“Ah, I see,” Zyrr said, feigning ignorance. “So tell us, what do you do on the ship all day?”
“Well, mostly I communicate what the Commander needs to tell everyone, and in turn, he and I work in main Engineering together.”
She needed to make this interview a little more interesting, no one would find the work of a translator compelling. “Does that mean he mentors you? He shows you how to do your job?”
“I can do my job just fine,” Tyler said, heat in his voice.
“But one could make the argument your position on the ship is somewhat redundant. You said yourself a computer could do your job.”
Tyler sputtered. “Yeah, but…I mean a computer can’t translate intention or emotion. Not like a human can.”
“I see.” Zyrr unfolded her arms. Time to bring it home, other than an interesting distraction, this kid didn’t have anything she could use. “So tell me, had you not been at the right place at the right time, where do you think you would be right now?”
Tyler stared at the floor. “I…don’t know. I guess still down by the clean-outs.”
“Would you say you were just lucky? That you were a by-product of nothing but good fortune and opportune timing?”
“Well, I mean…”
Zyrr brought the recorder back to her mouth. “We’d like to thank Ensign Tyler for sitting with us today and we wish him good luck in his translation position.” She cut the feeds. “You’re dismissed, Ensign.” All the sweetness and humor in her voice was gone. She needed a better subject if she was going to stay ahead of this thing. It was time to move on.
“Good afternoon. Please tell us your name, rank and current assignment,” Zyrr said, assuming the same posture she’d taken with Tyler.
The machine leaned forward. “Hello, yes. I am Box.” He paused a moment, staring at her as if she might recognize the name. “Medical nurse, pilot and all around nice-guy.”
Zyrr feigned ignorance by checking her notes on a small display pad. “It says here you were a mining robot.”
“I was designed a mining robot. Well, actually I was designed as a military application but once the war—”
“Ahem,” Zyrr interrupted. She’d have to edit around that. The last thing she wanted was any reference to the border skirmishes with Flexion eight years ago. That had been a P.R. disaster and it was better if they never spoke of it again. “You say you’re a…nurse?”
