DARK ORBIT: The complete series, page 27
“It’s an area that I’m interested in. It seems to have so much potential as an idea and yet…”
“At the end of the day they’re just too vulnerable to being manipulated. They were never very good at detecting when they were being lied to, for example.”
“And then there was the mindless lashing out. The seemingly random acts of violence.”
“But they’re teenagers,” Cooper laughed. “What did they expect?”
“Exactly.”
The two of them sat facing one another in mutual silence.
Then Roth started packing away his things.
“Is that it?” Cooper asked. “Are we done?”
Roth made a dismissive gesture. “For the moment at least.”
*
Cooper had expected to be taken back to his cell once his meeting with Roth was over but instead, they’d taken him to some kind of officer’s lounge where food had already been laid out. From past experience he moved past the Selenni table, the smell alone being enough to dissuade him. A lot of the Qurso foodstuffs were still alive.
There was no one around to take charge of him so he helped himself to the food. He hadn’t eaten in two days and he was hungry. Plus, the food was good and he’d learned from long experience to refuel whenever he got the opportunity.
When he was finished, he went and sat down. He was tired and begun to feel his eyes dropping when two troopers came in carrying a Colonial uniform. When he looked it over, he saw that it was a first lieutenant’s dress uniform.
They waited while he dressed himself and then they checked him over with an attention to detail which surprised him, pulling at his cuffs and straightening his collar. It fitted perfectly.
When they left, he stood around, not daring to sit down. It was an old habit. Once you had your uniform on you didn’t sit down until you were told to do so.
Eventually, an officer appeared and invited Cooper to follow him.
He was taken along through the ship to a waiting area where a group of technicians were waiting with their camera drones. They had clearly been there for some time and eyed him with annoyance. Through a doorway he could see a group of fifteen troopers getting into their chameleon suits. They had an impressive collection of weaponry. They even had their own armorer going around checking that everything was alright.
The whole atmosphere felt odd. It was more like a film set than a military operation.
After about half an hour, Edward Blake arrived. He was walking awkwardly in a pressure suit, his helmet being carried by one of the technicians.
He acknowledged Cooper but was careful not to approach him. Cooper sensed that everything here was poised on a knife edge and so he resolved not to do anything which might threaten that.
Cooper indicated the uniform he was wearing. “Do I have you to thank for all this?”
“I wouldn’t be too quick to thank me for anything, yet,” he said. “Whatever advantage I might have won you won’t last long.”
Cooper pointed to Blake’s pressure suit. “So, they’ve persuaded you to go over there then?”
Blake gave a little sigh. “That’s right. But I’m not going alone. You’re coming with me.”
Cooper laughed. “How does that work?”
Blake said, “I tried to convince them that because it’s a Colonial ship, it might be a good idea to have a Colonial officer along for the ride.”
Which confused Cooper. Why go to the trouble of making him wear the uniform if they were then going to stick him in a pressure suit?
Unless they weren’t.
“Don’t worry,” Blake stood up, trying to see how far he could raise his arms in his pressure suit. “Everything’s up and running. You’ll be fine.”
Cooper wanted to grab him and shake him, “You expect me to go over there without a suit?”
“We’ve already connected to the Elektra’s air-lock and it married up perfectly. All systems green. Which means that they already have sufficient atmosphere.”
“So, why do you need a suit, then?”
“I just think they’re being over cautious.”
“What if I refuse to go?” Cooper asked.
“Oh, I don’t think you’ll do that.”
He turned to see Roth standing there in his flight suit. They were more comfortable than a pressure suit and came with an adjustable hood.
Cooper wanted to argue but the annoying thing was that Roth was right. So long as he had the rest of his team in custody, Cooper would do whatever he asked.
Roth turned to Blake. “Doctor? Perhaps you’d like to explain?”
Blake was preoccupied with his glove. He couldn’t manage to attach it so one of the technicians came over to help him.
“It seems that in order to subvert the usual security protocols on the Elektra prototypes, my father set up a back door, if you will. He could gain access to all ships systems by providing a simple DNA sample.”
“But, he was your father,” Cooper pointed out. “Your DNA’s going to be different.”
Blake looked at Roth and shrugged. “That’s what I said. But they’re hoping that it might be close enough to give us a positive match.”
“And that’s the whole reason you’re here?” Cooper couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice. “So, this has got nothing to do with your own work?”
Blake shook his head sheepishly. “No. It would seem not.”
“It’s very simple,” Roth said. “We expect there to be enough of a match in Dr Blake’s sample for the ship to positively identify him. From there, he’ll be given access to all the ship’s systems.”
Cooper said, “And what if it doesn’t recognise him?”
“That’s why you’re here. If the ship refuses to accept Dr Blake, there’s no telling how it might react.”
“It’ll probably see us as a threat,” Cooper said, as realisation came. “In which case it might even turn hostile. Which is why I’m here, I take it. Some kind of guinea pig in all this. Am I right?”
“The canary might be a better analogy,” Roth said. “In the nineteenth century, miners used them to ensure the quality of the air in the tunnels they were working. If the bird fell off its perch, they knew the air was bad.”
“I see.”
“But I’m sure it won’t come to that,” Roth said brightly.
“Sure enough to surrender your suit?”
“Perhaps not quite that sure.”
*
Since Cooper’s hands were free he was going to be the one to operate the airlocks. In order to prepare him for this, he was allowed to study the schematics they had for the vacuum tunnel which linked both ships. They even had a short pre-war Colonial video showing the operation of an exterior air lock from that period.
It all looked straightforward and, if he’d been wearing a pressure suit, he’d have been feeling pretty confident by now. As it was, he was starting to have serious doubts about what they were doing.
Because there wasn’t going to be enough room in the airlock for all of them, Roth had split them into two teams. The first would feature Cooper and Blake along with five troopers. The other group would consist of Roth with another five troopers bringing up the rear. Also included in this group was Valentine. Nothing had been said but it was clear Roth intended to use her as leverage.
It hadn’t avoided Cooper’s attention that the best way for him to upset their plans would be for him to murder Blake. And it might still come down to that, but that would have to wait because Cooper had an idea, based on his knowledge of Colonial systems, which might just give them the edge.
Cooper paused the group at the entrance to the docking tube passage. All the air-lock procedures were mounted on the side and he spent a few moments consulting it. Really, he was trying to get a grip on himself, realising that if things went the way Roth intended there was very little chance of him coming back this way.
He led the way down to the actual airlock itself. Blake struggled to keep up in his bulky suit but the troopers, whose synthsuits were far less restrictive, hung back anyway. Once he reached the hatch he checked for a green light and immediately saw it. If there’d been a problem with the internal atmosphere the light would have been red in which case the door couldn’t have been opened anyway.
He automatically looked behind him in order to check that the hatchway back to the yacht had been sealed. Then, one of the troopers gave him the thumbs up signal. They were ready to proceed.
The hatch mechanism turned easily, the door swinging away from him. But this would be the easy part. He walked through to the far side of the airlock and waited for the others to file in. Once their door was sealed and the lights all checked out, he turned his attention to the inner door.
It was of a much older design but solidly built. His worry was that the seals might have been compromised – they did deteriorate over time - because if that was the case his plan wouldn’t work. He needed to get everyone over to the Elektra to have any chance of success.
They had to wait while the pressure equalised with the other ship and it seemed to take forever. But then the red light went out and after a few anxious seconds the green light came on.
Cooper got a good grip on the locking mechanism and began to apply pressure.
At first, it refused to move but then, just as he was about to abandon the attempt, he felt something give. Then it was just a matter of sheer brute strength before the inner hatch controls were enabled. None of the troopers offered to lend a hand but that suited him. Then, when the heavy door started to swing back on its hinges, he was the first to breathe in the new atmosphere. A combination of coolant and burnt electrical circuits. It seemed that not everything onboard the Elektra had fared as well as the seals after such a long furlough.
He was filled with a sudden sense of excitement. Now that he was back on a Colonial vessel his chances of survival had just improved enormously.
The room he was standing in was large but seemed dimly lit after the previous bays. He stood and watched as the others trailed out.
If he intended to kill Blake now would be a good time. Everyone would have relaxed a little, attention switching to the closing of the outer lock. He even had a weapon: a small screwdriver he’d stolen from one of the media technicians. The idea had been to target Blake’s carotid artery but it was a half-baked plan at best and now that he had his helmet on it would be virtually impossible to get right.
They waited while the inner door was sealed and then it was up to the group’s leader, Weber, to give the signal to proceed.
But the hatchway giving access to the ship’s corridors was locked and when they looked through the portal, they saw that the rest of place was still in darkness.
“Bring up the cutting gear,” the leader said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cooper said.
“He’s right,” Blake said, his voice sounding tinny over the speaker in his suit. “Remember, this is an oxygen rich environment. We’re going to have to think of some other way.”
Weber glowered at Blake but signalled the others to cancel the order.
They spent a couple of minutes trying to find some way to access the main operating system until the trooper attempting to run a diagnostic test spotted something: a simple flap which lifted up to reveal an angled ident-plate. Cooper looked at Blake.
“What do you think?”
“I think I’m going to have to take these gloves off.”
But when he attempted to do so, Weber stopped him.
“They need to scan my DNA,” Blake said. “It’s the main reason I’m here.”
Weber went over to one of his subordinates and the two of them had a brief conversation. Clearly, one of their main priorities was to protect Blake.
He said, “If we don’t scan my hand we’re not going anywhere.”
“We’ll wait for the general,” Weber said. “He can sort it out.”
*
It was another thirty minutes before Roth’s group arrived. Then it took another ten minutes to get him up to speed.
Eventually, it was agreed that Blake should take off his glove. Once his hand was free, he took a second to flex his fingers before placing his hand on the plate.
At first, nothing seemed to happen but then an amber light pulsed across the screen.
They all held their breath. If Roth was wrong then this would be the moment when the ship chose to purge the whole room of atmosphere.
The sensible thing would be to snatch his glove back from Weber but for some reason he chose to wait.
Match Verified.
This flashed up briefly, only to be replaced with:
Match Fail
*
They became aware of the fact that the lights were starting to dim. As this happened what looked like thousands of targeting lasers started strobing the whole room.
“Stand completely still!” Roth warned.
“They’re scanning us,” Blake said.
“Looking for potential threats,” Weber said, searching the room for threats of his own.
After an interval of no more than ten seconds the lasers stopped moving, seeming to fix on their targets.
Everyone held their breath as they eyed one another.
Then the lasers disappeared and the lights returned to normal.
Then a female voice echoed around the walls.
“I seem to be having trouble scanning you. Could you replace your hand on the pad?”
“Of course.”
Blake did as he was told and the scan started again.
Partial Match
“Perhaps I can explain. A few years ago, I was on a freighter which was exposed to high levels of radiation. The doctors at the time told me that the dose that I received would leave me with permanent cell damage. As a result of this, I will have to take medication every day for the rest of my life.”
There was a long pause. Then.
Match Verified
“Good evening Doctor Blake. So good to see you again. It’s been a long time.”
Blake breathed the longest sigh of his life while Roth mouthed, ‘Bravo!”
“Good evening,” Blake said. “And how should I refer to you?”
“Has it been so long that you’ve forgotten?” the RI said, with more than a touch of recrimination in her voice. “You always said that I talked too much. Which is why you called me your little Elektra.”
“Yes, of course. Elektra it is then.”
“Excellent. Well, if you’d like to continue into the main body of the ship,” the RI said. “I’ll set about processing your colleagues.”
Servos whined and the main hatch rumbled open, the interior lights beyond blinking into existence.
Roth said, “Tell her that we don’t need to be processed. There must be some kind of over-ride here.”
“I’m sorry, Dr Blake,” the voice said. “I’m not familiar with your colleague.”
Roth looked around. The sense of implied threat was muted but it was definitely there.
“My name is Roth. Irving Roth.”
“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. If you’d like to approach the scanner.”
The scanner coalesced on the far wall, a mass of undulating colors.
Roth didn’t move.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said.
“No one may proceed into the main body of the ship without proper clearance.”
“What would happen if someone were to try and do that?” Blake said adopting a conciliatory tone.
“Security measures would be called into play.”
That sounded ominous.
Roth looked at Blake who shrugged. Cooper was marched to the front of the room.
“We’re going to have to do something about this,” Roth said under his breath. “Can’t we just – I don’t know – switch her off?”
“While I have completed my biometric scans, I am still failing to identify a large number of personnel. Additionally, all weapons must be stored in the armory.”
A section of the wall on their right pealed back and inside Blake could make out various weapons racks.
Instinctively, a number of troopers turned their guns in this direction as if expecting some new threat to suddenly emerge.
“We’re in rather a hurry,” Blake said lamely. “Can’t we do this later?”
There was a momentary pause before the ship replied. “I am unable to allow unprocessed personnel into the main body of the ship.”
The scanner on the far wall resolved itself into a brightly-colored rendering of what appeared to be Weber, highlighting his various weapons in bright blue. Then it moved on to the next trooper, and the next, and the next.
Each one was marked: Threat Alert.
“These personnel must remain behind for further screening,” the RI’s tone suggested that she would brook no argument.
Blake turned to Roth and raised his hands mutely.
It was Cooper who spoke next.
“That won’t be necessary. Not under the current circumstances.”
“And who might you be.”
“First Lieutenant Erik Cooper of the Colonial Navy.”
“Verified. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, lieutenant. Could you please specify the nature of this current emergency?”
He looked to Roth who grudgingly signalled his consent.
Cooper said, “Under Article 17 Section 32 of the Maritime Code I invoke a state of emergency. We believe that our current docking facility is about to come under attack. As we believe this threat is imminent we propose to set sail with a skeleton crew.”
“That is acceptable, but I will still need the names of your captain, first officer and chief navigator.”
Roth clearly didn’t like the way that this was going though he had little choice but to acquiesce.
He said, “Just get on with it.”
Cooper looked around the room and then seemed to have an idea.
“I propose the lieutenant as captain,” Blake said. “Is that acceptable?”
“Of course. May I have the name of your first officer.
“Doctor Edward Blake,” Cooper said and then before anyone could stop him. “With Miss Maya Valentine as Chief Navigator.”
The whole room turned in her direction.
