412. Pizzle Diablo

"Bring more amsec," said Tabood, flipping coin before his buggered strumpets, fard like clowns. Heels of hire clicked as dutiful castanets. He sat his chair like a debauched king, a play of light dancing between legs flesh and paid, between mechanicals diabolically tainted by minds made rich in the perverted commerce, and gulped the sweet fruit to drown what could not be drowned.

"Sir, we have the coordinates."

"Set course and notify command. Open channel."

"Yes sir."

_______

Back on Kulmyk:

Like an airborne snake, the whip uncurled, uncoiled, releasing energy like a devil's finger, furrowing the living flesh as blood tasted dank air; and the pale stone wall appeared as crimson speckled egg, cold in sweat, unspeaking, sentient as the unborn. Tom ground his teeth in the echo of snapping pizzle.

"Shame of the matter . . ." Whip cracked above his head, as if a token of mercy. " . . . Tabood has spoken, without the first lick of leather. Imagine that."

Tom's face tightened as if words were knobs, each a twist to stretch skin over bone as a drummer might in tune.

"We have the coordinates. And, we have you. So, you might ask yourself, what is the measure of your pride?"

Tom spit blood upon the blurry floor. His mind swimming in pain both sharp and dull, his back aflame as his chest throbbed, seeking release where no release would be quartered.

"All men break Tom. You will break too. Not because you can offer us anything we don't already have. Do you understand?"

Tom defecated his reply, the floor a mixture foul of sight as of smell, his breathing labored as a horse chained before the carnifex, nostrils steaming in the dark cold.

"The question, Tom, is do you want to suffer, break and die; or do you want to break and die quickly. You see, you will break. You know that Tom. You know all men break. All men Tom. And you will break too."

"Fuck you."

"Tom, you know, I really didn't want to do this and I can't say I will take any pleasure from it either, but I don't have all day. You ain't the only business needing attention."

The door opened and Tom's jaded eyes, once crusted slits, became wide. "Enough!"

The door closed and the young boy removed. "Thank you Tom. Now tell me what you know and we'll avoid anymore unpleasantness. For the record Tom. For the children. The children must know the truth."

Tom spoke. Then he spoke no more as the walls turned their red eyes closed.

405. Round the Horn II

Ariel: Running around Bravo like a kid in a new house. Touching everything. Playing with everything. Skipping down the corridors and singing to herself.

Em and Trev: Waiting for the operation to restore Em's sight as children on xmas eve. He is just itching to give her the earrings to match the dress, and, for the moment, the joy of Em, as the sun to night, shines bright.

Kyra: Torn between desire and obligation. Kieran told her, "to whom much is given, much is expected." She is tired, weary and in need of a vacation. Although she would not admit it, she is tired of being strong, tired of being "the one" that everyone looks to for help. She is also terribly conflicted with what her "gift" is meant to be. John's request puts her back in harm's way, or more to the point, puts her in a position of more death and destruction, from her hands. Death is death, and no matter the cause, the idea of more killing is more than she can bear at the moment. She longs for a walk on the beach with Papa.

John: Not himself. The memory of Cait and the future of Ariel color every perception. The brotherhood has framed the argument for a return to Kulmyk such that he cannot say no, or at least has not found a way to say no without losing every last sense of who he is and the feeling sits nauseous in his gut. To return without Kyra is nothing less than martyrdom. To return with her, based on their last exchange, seems unlikely. Only the urgency of events stave off depression.

Tom: About to break under torture.

Tabood: About to be apprehended. About to walk the same plank as Tom.

The Hood: Fears of a secret cabal solidified. Paranoia grows in step with ruthlessness.

The Brotherhood: Waiting on John's decision.

Von: Knows something is amiss. Kyra won't answer her comm. Neither will John or Rog for that matter.

Dr X and Mairi: Exploring their options for Em and the operation.

Rog and Yul: Enjoying their new found privacy. Doors locked. Comms turned off.

Taren: Uneasy in the presence of so many Kulmyks. Uneasy with the whispers of their request.

380. The Hood

The Hood: Tom, we've had a chance to review your report.

Tom: Yes sir.

The Hood: Seems there was a bit of trouble on Tranquility.

Tom: Yes sir.

The Hood: A breakdown in discipline your report says.

Tom: Yes sir.

The Hood: (eyes scan Tom) I see.

Tom: (stares straight ahead)

The Hood: Your report is a bit sparse on this breech. Explain.

Tom: Sir, as you know, John and Cait were personal friends of mine. What occurred before the destruction of the Tranquility is something I would rather not remember and since detailing the atrocity would serve no purpose in the greater scheme of the Deleo, I chose not to elaborate.

The Hood: Not your place to make those judgments.

Tom: Yes sir.

The Hood: History must be honored. For the children. They must know.

Tom: Sir, I'm afraid I don't follow.

The Hood: Tell me what happened. For history. So that we may be honored by telling the truth, however painful that may be. Honor the children Tom. Give us the record. You are a man of honor, are you not Tom?

Tom: (looks uncomfortable) Two of my men, on the boarding party, disobeyed orders. Before killing Cait, they raped her. The rape, unfortunately set off an unexpected reaction, and what was to be clean, became chaotic and ugly.

The Hood: (after a slight pause) Who set the self-destruct on Tranquility?

Tom: We don't know sir.

The Hood: But we do know you were the only survivor. Is that true?

Tom: Yes sir.

The Hood: And we know that John and Kyra and everyone else on Tranquility is dead.

Tom: Yes sir.

The Hood: I see.

Tom: Will that be all sir?

The Hood: Yes.

Tom: (turns to leave, only the sound of his heels is heard clicking and clacking toward the door)

The Hood: Tom?

Tom: Yes sir?

The Hood: One more thing. Have you ever heard the name Taboodja?

372. Bond Between Brothers

John slumped as if tragedy contagious, alone in his corner, aged ten years in two days. Skin once tight, loose. Eyes once limpid, lost. Hair once straight, in jailbreak. Hands once strong, upturned and broken in his lap like an aging prizefighter listening to someone else’s bell. His mind fading with the images he allowed himself to see, words said stuck in loop, playing and playing and playing . . .



Tom, entombed in iridescent glass, spoke through the respirator, his hoarse voice struggling on the raspy waves of modulated breath. “There’s a bond between brothers,” he said, “those bastards will never understand. They live in the foul mouth of darkness, glaring between rotting jagged teeth as razors, drinking their own blood and thinking it progress. Frail them my friend. See you in hell.” Tom punched the eject button. John stood dizzy of mind as if his head weighted ten times its normal weight and watched the glassed personal pod silently slip away, Tom grinning like a mad man, a gleaming pill swallowed by the cold unforgiving inky depth.


Score for this Chapter: Mu Vaibmu Vadjul Doppe by Mari Boine (Album: Eight Seasons)

368. Flash Forward: The Transcript

Two days have passed since Tom boarded Tranquility. Kyra sits alone in her quarters listening again to an audio transcript from two days earlier; a recording of Tom and John’s conversation prior to “the event.”



John, remember the visit of the agents to Duckhead, the one to tell you there would be no rescue mission?

Yes.

The military wanted that rescue mission. They were overruled. The political powers wanted nothing of Kyra, until they realized what she represented.

How?

They had a c-ship in the area. Monitoring all communication.

So they could have saved Bravo, Kyra?

Yes. (pause) They wanted her dead.

But the A screwed that up.

Yes.

Then the fear that they would/could use her.

Yes.

And so they had to do something.

How do you think you received that communication from Bravo?

What do you mean?

Bravo didn’t have the power to send a communication that far. They tried. The communication was real. But it was blocked and transmitted later via messenging, only after “the c-ship” realized the A’s had rescued Kyra. Then fear set in. And a plan was schemed.

(a pause) So I didn't miss the call?

Nope. If the A's hadn't rescued her, you would have, I'm guessing, received the message a few days later, once Kyra was confirmed dead. Of course then, the mission would have been quite different. A one-way ticket. Would have been a nice and clean package for them.

I see. I suppose I was the only one who was ever going.

It was believed, you were the only one that had the ability to get close enough to her, to kill her. They had your chip and knew she would let you near, not suspect. If you had refused the mission they were prepared to blackmail you. They were prepared to give it to Cait. To make it public. To destroy you. Emasculate your perceived political ambitions. But you played. So Cait was spared the public disgrace.

I had no political ambitions. You know that Tom. None. I loath politics.

But you could have. Don't you see. Exactly because you loathed, you were a threat. The public always wants what it can't have, especially in time of war. They want the non-political politician. You were that figure. Good looking. Understood the military situation and the pain of sacrifice. Beautiful wife. Neuro-surgeon. Decorated combat officer. A Discovery man. John, you were everything they feared. Everything. And, you knew the alien, you had an "in" in what came to be perceived as a force multiplier. With Kyra at your side, Kulmyk was yours for the taking.

Absurd.

Perception John. I know you hate it when I say it, but perception is reality. Death by perception.

My epithet.

Your albatross.

(very long pause)

(John resumes) I never suspected at the time they had concocted the "stolen property" story. Of course, it never occurred to me how far their plans reached. It never occurred to me I was a threat. Maybe an outspoken pain in the arse, but a threat?

Stranger than fiction as they say. They knew you couldn’t get a ship on your own. But they could get you one. However, for obvious reasons, that you were to assassinate Kyra, they couldn’t just give it to you, you had to “steal it.” Which gave them their out if you frailed up their plans. They wanted to cover their backside. In case you did what you did. The public had become aware of the aliens. The assassination had to be kept secret. You accepted the orders but they had the chip and they feared you would not be able to do your duty and they were right. They feared you would use Kyra against them. Politicians always act from fear. It is the nature of power. Power doesn’t corrupt. The fear of losing power does. They feared you. They feared what you could achieve if Kyra was what they believed her to be. So they sought to ensnare you, to cover all their bases. They knew you wanted to go rescue her. They needed her out of A hands and out of your hands. They thought they could use you, willingly, to fix the A issue. They suspected you would fail at the Deleo orders, thus the cover of you stealing the ship and the option to resurrect the Infidelity law to have you “disappear.” What they didn’t anticipate was the commander helping you.

What has happened to the commander?

Dead. An accident, so reported.

(another long pause) And why would they trust you to fulfill your obligation?

They don’t. I’m being watched. Everything said on screen. All show, most of it. Are you sure that Null is working?

(John looked at Mairi.) I guess we will find out soon enough. Why did they let me return?

Public pressure of the announcement of your return. You made life very difficult for them. The public had developed a fascination with the aliens and rumor of Kyra grew exponentially, as rumor in time of war does. Otherwise, they would have killed you both on arrival. The situation had become delicate. Politics is a bastard. Nothing is ever as it seems. Agenda a façade. So, you were welcomed back, not because they weren’t prepared with the Infidelity case, but because they had no real idea of what to do with Kyra. They still have no idea how she escaped their surveillance. Equipment that worked, just stopped. One moment she was there and the next gone.

You know I was playing them.

Yes, and they were playing you.

Yes, I know.

You were a political threat John. You with Kyra—that was too much. So they thought that perhaps they could use you to eliminate both. You see, the plan was, if you killed Kyra, to label you rogue, bring you to trial. That way, they solve two problems. You kill Kyra and they eliminate you.

Let me ask you this: Why did you accept the Deleo order? (T to J)

I suppose I could ask you the same question.

I have a plan.

So did I.

(Shots fired, heard.)

Tom?

Crap. Arm yourself.

Kyra powered down the audio. The lights dimmed. Perhaps sleep would bring understanding.

367. Deleo per Extremus

“Full screen,” toned John, his hard lean back straight, his soft expectant eyes unblinking. Parted left to right, each hair combed in place as if order meant something, as if ritual and discipline could sway fortune. His practiced hands as empty as the cards he held.

Kyra nodded. Von acceded. Tom flickered larger than life, a reflection of fear and power, of fate knocking on wood exposed to the universal fire of might. His command carrier stood locked on Tranquility as hammer to nail. Only a nod remained between his view holding metal and life or stars and memories.

“Hello John.”

“Hello Tom.”

“How’s Cait?”

“Good. She’s good Tom.”

“And Ariel? How is she?”

“Good as gold, as always. And Tom Jr.?”

Tom shrugged. “More like his mom than his old man. Still time.”

“And how are you Tom?”

Tom sighed, his eyes bright in a face of chiseled stone. “I’ve got a boarding party. Lower your defenses.”

John looked at Krya. She shook her head with hands clasped behind her back. “Can’t do that Tom.”

“I’m asking you to reconsider. This is the best way John. Trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you Tom. It’s actually that I trust you implicitly.”

“You give me too much credit. However, this time you wouldn’t be wrong. Now I’m asking you one last time. Lower your defenses.”

“And if I don’t—”

“Execute my orders. Duty bound. I have no choice.”

John looked toward Von. “Cut the screen.”

“John!”

“What!”

“Don’t do this. There is a better way.”

“You have your orders—“

“My orders are Deleo per Extremus.”

John held his hand to Von.


Tom held the glowing seal before the screen. “Deleo per Extremus, John. Potentatus. I think you understand the gravity of the situation. I have no choice.

John stood mute as stone. Kyra glanced Von, which was the same as looking at the wall.

“John?” queried Kyra.

“Tell her John. You owe her the truth.”

John felt vised between past and present, between letter and law, heaven and earth.

“The truth John. Tell her.”

“Tell me what? asked Kyra.

“Tell her John.” Hesitation. “Or I will.”

“He has plenipotentiary orders for our complete and utter annihilation.”

“Tell her how you know this?”

“What?”

“Tell her John. Tell her how you know this.”

“Don’t do this Tom.”

“On your "rescue mission" of the fair Hynerian, what were your orders?”

Kyra stared at John. John stared into oblivion, bitterness rising as wisps above the rank brew.

“Orders?” asked Kyra.

“Deleo per Extremus.”

357. Fire Burning Cold

“Dad, are you going to see Ariel?” asked Tom Jr.

Tom bent down and brushed the hair from his son’s forehead with his thumb. As his large hand cradled his son’s head the image of Ariel, laughing and smiling and skipping through the house flashed before his mind. Ariel and Tom Jr were the same age and because of Tom’s relationship with John, the two children had practically grown up together.

_______



Four hours prior:

“Tom, the Tranquility has changed course. For reasons unknown, they are on a heading back to Kulmyk. This will not happen. Do you comprehend?”

“Yes sir.”

“Gather whatever resources you need. Report back that what once was, is no more.”

“Sir?”

“That will be all Tom.”



_______

“Dad, you’re hurting me.”

“I’m sorry son,” said Tom, releasing his grip. Before Tom could respond, his six-year-old likeness ran screaming into the next room, “Mom? Mom?”

Tom stood, straightened his jacket and walked out the door.

324. Refused

Cait refused to look at the Commander.

Nor would she look at Tom.

"Ariel, go pack what you want. We're leaving."

321. Round the Horn

Trev: Driven by unspeakable shame, he inexplicably heads back to see Sal. Rain slashes his face as a vicious wind whips a steel gray sky. He doesn't notice.

Mairi: Unconscious on the cold floor, her head in a small pool of dark blood. She tried to stop Trev from going. He punched her in the face.

Emy: Her new found sensitivity to sound is driving her insane. She is currently floating her agitated arse in an isolation chamber. She holds her brooch in her hand, realizes she can no longer see her mother and starts to punch the side of the chamber. No one can hear. Blood drips from her knuckles. She starts to smile as salt stings her open wounds.

Cait: Sitting in the study with the Commander and Tom. She has been informed of the circumstances and looks on as the Commander outlines his plan. When the Commander mentions Kyra, Cait stands up and yells, "I will not have that bitch in my house!" Ariel appears in the doorway and all three adults turn in unison toward the small child.

Kyra: On her way to Duckhead. She is the plan. She sits in meditative silence on the private transport oblivious to the multi-hued lights flashing by.

Von: Refused to take no. He is with Kyra. His left hand has a firm grip on his right. It shakes anyway.

Rog and John: Making idle conversation. The Matutinal Mercy has not yet been delivered. The room is ice cold. Neither notice.

Yul: Still in hospital. Too high to wonder why. Too low to care.

Kieran: Closely watching events unfold.

The Unknowns: Closely watching Kieran.

222. Your Move

[ed note: this chapter is happening simultaneously with each snippet]

Em walked up behind Trev, fascinated by the image he was working on. “Whatcha doing?”

Trev looked up. “Take a listen and tell me what you think?”

“A distress signal, clear as day.”

Trev’s jaw dropped. “How—“

“Heard them all the time on the open water,” responded Em, not realizing this recording was only hours old. “The signal is very weak but the tone seems a little odd. Where did you get this?”

-----

Kyra pulled out the folio and placed her palms on the cover. Closing her eyes she said, “Papa, forgive me, for I have sinned.” Goldie noticed a bluish glow from Kyra’s quarters but thought the better of disturbing her.

-----

Cait picked flowers and watched Ariel chase after Maria, their dog. Solar activity continued to prevent any communication with the taskforce. Taking a deep breath, the aroma of love past took her places warm and tender.

-----

Tom walked into John’s office. “Team Kilo has made contact.”

“And?”

Tom smiled, “No survivors. We’re heading home boss. Mission accomplished.”

John starred through Tom, his index finger on his temple with his thumb under his chin.

-----

Calfuray looked at Mairi, then Dr. X and finally Shen. “We are approaching the Aegis. Make one move without my permission and I’ll gut the lot of you quicker than your sphincters can tighten round your pathetic little fingers.” No one moved—not even a blink.

-----

Von looked at Rog as Yul looked over his shoulder. “Your move.”

Rog surveyed the board. Moving a white triangle into position, it turned red. “How bout them dimplerods boss.” His laughter was short lived. Coming from outside Bravo, the sound was muffled but unmistakable. Code Red.

“Crap,” exclaimed Rog. “What now!”

Categories: Story, Calfuray, Kyra, Von, Rog, Trev, Emy, Caitlin, John Discovery

221. Bury It

“John, tell me what you want me to do,” said Tom.

“What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

“Bury it.”

John looked at Tom and echoed back his words as if trying to comprehend what emotion would emerge, what part of his soul would reveal itself if he gave the order. “Bury it.”

“Is that an order sir?”

My god thought John. Is this what I have become. “How certain are we?”

“No doubt.”

John weighted Tom’s answer with the blank face of one knowing the answer but still in the vague fuzzy space of hoping against hope the grade would be different.

“And Bravo?”

“Jammed.”

“Really?” asked John, raising his eyebrows and rubbing his neck as if he could feel the imaginary yoke of command. “On whose orders?” Before Tom could respond, John quickly added, “Never mind. It is what it is.”

__________


“What is it Trev?” asked Kyra.

“Not sure, but I think you better get down here,” said Trev, a strange excitement in his voice.

“Be right there Trev.” Kyra looked at Von and he looked back at her. “You ready for a little more drama?”

“Opportunity my dear,” smiled Von. “How would your Papa put it?”

“Be like yellow,” Kyra smiled back. “Be like yellow.”

On the bridge Trev was huddled over the communications panel, earphones on, face cherubic. "What you got Trev?"

Handing Kyra the headphones he said, "Listen to this and tell me what you hear?"

Kyra looked at Trev and then to Von and back to Trev. "Could you play that again and boost the signal."

Trev did.

"Holy mother of Janus," exclaimed Kyra, showing a rare display of untethered public excitement. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Hard to say," said Trev. "But I think we got some work to do."

"Do it." said Kyra. "And as soon as you have anything, anything at all, comm me. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

Kyra turned to leave. "Oh Kyra, one more thing."

"Yes Trev?"

"Our friends tried to jam this signal. In fact they still are."

"Really?"

Categories: Story, John Discovery, Kyra, Trev, Von

213. Nothing

John tried again. Still no luck. "Tom, you ever seen a solar storm like this?"

"Can't say that I have John."

"Okay, well, would you notify me as soon as we have an open channel?"

"Will do."

John sat back in his chair, holding an ancient solar chart. A gorgeous work of art depicting Rubion and Triste in opposition. If only that was the case now. Solar storms in a dual sun system were common, but one of this magnitude was not. Until it cleared they were for all intents and purposes stuck in radio silence.

Cait watched the reports. Stay inside. Protect yourself if you must go out, all the usual stuff. That is, if you didn't have a husband on the other side of the sector and cut off from all communication. How much longer this storm would persist no one could say. Could be a day, could be a week.

"Mommy?" asked Ariel.

"Yes darling?"

"Is dad going to call us tonight?"

Cait tried to smile. It had been more than a week since John had called. She couldn't recall him ever going so long, and now, with this storm, who knew how much longer it would be. Before, she could always check with the base, and her contacts there would assure her he was okay. She knew they would lie if the case was otherwise, but still it provided some measure of comfort. This time, however, they knew no more than she did, which was nothing. Nothing was hard. And there was nothing to do but wait and hope and pray.

"Honey, dad is on a very important mission and is working very, very hard. And you know what?" said Cait as she reached out to tickle her precocious one.

"What?" Ariel squirmed, tucking her elbows in and giggling, her long reddish golden hair shinning on the waves of gentle curves.

"I have it on very good authority that your dad loves you very, very much and he left me in charge of giving out his hugs to you. Let me see if I have one for you." Cait reached out and took her daughter in her arms, pulling her tight to her chest. Little arms returned the embrace with the enthusiasm of unfiltered belief.

"Mommy, I miss dad." said Ariel, changing her tone as children do.

"I miss him too sweetie."

Categories: Story, John Discovery, Caitlin, Ariel

203. Options?

“Kyra," said John, his tone as warm and steady as polished mahogany, "thanks for coming over on such short notice. I wanted to get you up to speed on the search and rescue mission.” He had a what and he had a how, and something told him, in this conversation, the how was going to be more important than the what. Moving with the measured deliberateness of a jaguar stalking its prey, John pulled up a chair and offered her a seat.

Kyra noticed. He wasn’t sitting behind his desk and he wasn’t sitting on the front of it either (looking down at her with those paternalistic eyes). “I appreciate you thinking of me and the crew. As you might imagine, we’re all on pins and needles, and quite frankly, a little unsettled not being involved in the operation. I’m sure if the tables were reversed you’d feel the same way.” Kyra couldn’t hear it but something, some sense told her John had more to tell than he was about to say. The room held an energy, neither good nor bad (maybe a bit of both) as far as she could tell, but an energy nonetheless absent in prior meetings. His body appeared completely at ease, but it looked like a practiced ease, an ease born of breeding perhaps, an ease he wore on the outside like a favorite old leather coat rather than an ease radiating from within. She marveled at how he could do this, and debated in her mind the merits of learning such a skill, a skill she had lacked in recent days; but the more she thought about it, the more she sensed the news was not good and the more she questioned the usefulness of his facade.

“You are absolutely right.” John paused, letting her metaphor streak across the dark night of his mind, hoping for a flash of insight into the how, hoping, perchance, empathy could illuminate his delivery. “If the tables were reversed I’d want you to lay it all out, directly, so that’s what I’m going to do.” He slowed his delivery, looking for reaction in her face, but there was none. He continued. “Our teams made contact. Then we lost it, which, after looking at every possibility, can only mean one thing. They’ve taken Mairi undersea.” John stopped.

After a slight pause Kyra said. “Why would they do that? But before John could answer she leaned forward and interjected. “There’s more isn’t there? Something that has caused you to call me down here on a moment’s notice,” her eyes searching his as if they could speak directly to her heart and bypass the logic she felt she was about to hear, a subtle subtext neither needed nor wanted.

It was John’s turn to marvel. Few had her gift for perception and he found himself distracted with her ability. “Good questions, both.” Fact of the matter, he had no good answer, or that is, no good answer he was willing to share. Yul was dying. Her only chance was to get her back home as quickly as possible and even then there were no guarantees. Every day they stayed in orbit, looking for Mairi, was nothing more than another nail in Yul’s coffin. The problem, however, was a bit more complicated. Yul had sworn him to secrecy. He had given his word, not something he took lightly, yet, he knew, was now on the table; the cruelty of compromise grown in the soil of rationalization. Second, he wanted to get the whole crew of Bravo back to his homeworld, and although the thought of having Mairi, the null, was enticing, Yul was the key to making that happen. Kyra had indicated, more than once, her desire to get on the road once Mairi was back.

“Let me start with your first question. The seas on the world below hold a rather unique mineral composition. They negate, neutralize if you will, radiation—all radiation.” John paused again.

“I’m not sure I follow. Are you saying they feared you would nuke them?” John didn’t answer. “So, to protect themselves, knowing you had netted the planet and there was no escape off world, they went undersea? Oh my Janus. Tell me John, tell me that was not even an option?”

“It was not an option, as long as Mairi was on-world. Our friends don’t know that, so they sough to protect themselves.” John stood up and walked to a cabinet behind his desk. “Amsec?”

“No thanks.”

“You are right, you know.” John poured the golden liquid into a crystal decanter, placed it on the desk and sat down two glasses.

“About what?”

“There is more.” He poured one glass. “A lot more.” He poured the second glass. Without breaking eye contact he held the amber liqueur out to Kyra. “Join me. Please. What I’m about to say, well, hell, it ain’t gonna be easy.”

Kyra hesitated as if to measure the weight of his statement. Reaching out, she took the glass and raised it to her lips. John watched, amazed at how natural her movements were, how fluid, and he wondered how one so young could move with such elegant grace and poise.

“Quid pro quo,” said Kyra, knocking back the rest of the drink.

“Yul is dying,” replied John. “She has a growth and it is beyond our capabilities on this vessel to stop it. How long she has is anyone’s guess. The only chance she has is back home—maybe.”

“Okay.” Kyra held her glass out and John poured. “So, why is she still here?”

“This is the only vessel in the taskforce capable of traveling at hyper-speed.”

“Okay.”

“And, it is the only one capable of dealing with the situation on-world.” John took a sip. “We can’t leave with the voice still down there.”

Kyra sat quietly. “So, what are our options?”

Before John could answer Tom commed in. “John, sorry to interrupt, but we do have the Captain’s dinner tonight and there is the matter of your speech we need to prepare.”

“Thanks Tom, give me a few minutes to wrap things up here.”

“Kyra, please forgive me. I forgot all about the dinner tonight. And Kyra, one more thing, I promised Yul I would not reveal her illness to anyone else. I trust--"

“I understand John, no need to explain. Can we pick up on this discussion first thing in the morning?”

“Better than that, won’t you join me tonight? Formal dinner, dress whites. A time to relax and remind ourselves that we still belong to a civilized race.”

“Thanks, but I’m not much in the mood.”

“I won’t take no for an answer. Besides, I need a guest of honor and last time I checked we still hadn’t found one. Promise, we’ll leave business at the door.”

“You are most kind dear sir but—”

“I’ll take that as a yes! Dinner in two hours. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a speech to write.”

Kyra stood and smiled weakly as John left the room. Perhaps, she thought, the dinner will do me some good, a chance to get away if only for an hour or so. “Yul, Kyra here. Meet me in my quarters. I think I’m going to need your help.”

John entered his study where Tom was waiting. “How’d it go?”

“Not too bad.”

“You didn’t tell her did you?”

“Uhm, no.”

Categories: Story, Kyra, John Discovery

201. The Spades

"John, we have every confidence they've moved undersea. You know what this means," said Tom, standing erect, arms folded, face like a statue.

John stared into his unblinking eyes. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Tom was right. With rolled lips and a heavy sigh John said, "Release the spades . . . and notify Kyra I need to see her right now."

"Yes sir," replied Tom.

Categories: Story, John Discovery

199. Like Magic

"Mairi, I'm going to place our beautiful little friend around your neck," said Dr. X. "Won't hurt as long as you don't resist. Relax your mind. Think pleasant thoughts."

Mairi closed her eyes and the ampulator settled in place. The organism felt its way along her neck, each orifice of its inner ring sluggishly seeking an air tight suction. Mairi started to choke. "Relax my dear. The amp is trying to determine if you are friend or foe. If friend, then you are going to be privileged to some rather special sensations in a few minutes. If foe, then you and I will go down together. Now relax."

"Can you please tell me what vile purpose this exercise suits?"

"My apologies, of course. You my dear, are a null, a blank, or as some might say, an untouchable. In a telepathic world, you are the great eraser, the anti-gravity, the void. No one near you can communicate nor can anyone use their telepathic powers on you. Most important, you black out all telepathic signals. Your mere presence is the great off switch. With you, we are all but invisible to the outside world, but there is one little problem. Your power is not quite strong enough to blank us out from Kulmyk probes, which are a little too close for comfort right now. Our little squishy friend, however, is going to fix that. Once he forms full suction, and of course sees you as a friend, his natural genetic conflux will take your nullness and amplify it. If it works, we will drop off the radar of those probes like magic. And my guess, they'll never know what happened."

As the creature tightened its grip on her neck, Mairi tried not to squirm managing to eek just a single word through her clenched teeth. "If?"

"Well, as you know, we've never had a null before, so I suppose you could say this is where theory crosses the road of actuality. Now relax, I'm fairly certain this is going to work."



"TEAM KILO REPORTING in. Over. Do you read?"

"Loud and clear," replied Tom. " What seems to be the problem."

"Hard to explain sir. One minute we were locked on their location and then the next, they just disappeared."

Categories: Story, Mairi, Dr. X

191. Tightening the Net

Looking from the Aegis' bridge, John spoke to Tom. "Beautiful isn't it, the net. Is it fully operational?"

"Yes sir," replied Tom. "Ain't nothing on that planet getting off without us knowing."

"Good. Status of our search and rescue mission?"

"Teams fully employed. We expect contact within hours."

"Thanks Tom. Alert me as soon as contact is established, I'll be in my quarters. I want full A/V Tom. No unexplained static this time."

Tom nodded.

"And Tom."

"Yes sir?"

"We need the Null alive. As for the rest, use operational judgment. "

"Understood."

Categories: Story, John Discovery

188. Quill This

John stared at the data slate for a micron before giving the order. “Destroy those patrol craft, now! Tom, organize a boarding party to the unknown craft and please let them know we are coming aboard. I want no accidents. Once aboard, I want full cloaking employed with multiple decoys at random vectors.”

__________

“Whatcha got Trev? What’s abnormal?” asked Em, chest heaving and eyes wide.

“Well, I’m not versed on how to interpret this data plane, but it looks like we have multiple craft approaching at rapid velocity from contrary directions. All appear to be on a direct vector—.“ Blinding white light filled the bridge. “Em, are you there? Em, I can’t see! Em?”

__________

“Tom, status report?”

“Five of the six patrol craft destroyed.”

“And the sixth?”

“Returning to base.”

“Jam all channels. Full pursuit. I do not want that vessel returning to the planet.”

__________

“Taren, doesn’t seem to be our day. Notify Dr. X. Change of plans. He’ll know what I mean,” said the voice.

“And the Tearacs?”

“Can’t take them with us. Let them feast. And Taren?”

“Yes?”

“I appreciate your loyalty.”

__________

“Bravo-Four-Zero, this is Kulmyk command. Prepare to be boarded. We mean you no harm. Do not resist.”

“Tom,” said John, shaking his head.

“What? I mean every word,” said Tom. “I do, really.”

“Hellocks,” said Yul. “We’ve heard that before. Em, do you know where Von left the cache?”

“Yep, follow me. Trev, delay that boarding party.”

“What?”

“Trev!

“Alright, alright.”

“And you wonder when they're gonna drop.” said Yul.

“Come again?”

“The boys. You know. Em, come on,” Yul replied as she grabbed her crotch.

“Oh, yeah, right, the boys.”

__________

“Tom, you ready?”

“Yes sir.”

“At your command. Oh and Tom, we want to make a good impression this time. Weapons on quill. Understood.”

“Absolutely John.”

“Yeah, I mean it this time Tom.”

“Got it. You know me.”

John smiled. “Yes, Tom, I do.”

__________

Foggy condensation filled the bay. A central dark grey blockish shape appeared haloed with bright white light. A high pitch whine wound down punctuated with two loud blasts.

“Don’t hold back Em, unless you want to end up like Mairi.” Yul braced her feet against the cold metal bulkhead, dual las canon firmly seated on her right shoulder. Taking aim on the right portal she squeezed off three more bolts in rapid succession. “That’s for Rog you bastards.”

“T-o-m,” said John, lowering his chin, eyes rolling up.

“Damn it John, we are under fire.”

“Big picture Tom and wipe that grin off your face. Besides, do you really want the blood of two unknown females with minimal weapons on your hands? How would I explain that to command? Weapons to quill. That’s an order. Now open the hatch and put that cannon down. Geessh.”

__________

“Trev, seal off the bay,” commed Yul.

“But—“

“No frailing buts, do it, now! Em, take aim on the left side. Em? Frail, where did you go?


Categories: Story, John Discovery, Yul, Emy, Trev, The Voice, Taren