Dangerous Evolution (9 page)

“Why Val Evans?” I repeated.

It remained quiet and motionless for a few moments, considering
just how much information to reveal I suspected. “We needed her help with a
medical condition afflicting our people.”

It stopped speaking, as if that were enough information to placate
me.

“What condition?” I prompted.

“A virus disrupting the inter-functionality between our organic
and inorganic systems; the fatality rate is one hundred percent.”

“I can see where that might be a problem,” I agreed. “Was she
successful?”

“After six months of research and experimentation, she was close
to discovering a cure.” It stared off into the distance, forcing itself to say
the next words. “Val Evans was returning to the dome with a final biological
test sample—the one that held the key she said—when she was taken.”

“Taken by whom?” I asked.
Now we were getting somewhere.

“I don’t know,” it said. “If I did, I would be on my way to
retrieve her now instead of strapped to this pallet.”

“Woz was obviously involved,” I said, lacing my voice with as much
insinuation and accusation as I could manage. 

“There is no doubt that Woz facilitated her capture,” Del
acknowledged. “I recognized its energy signal on the blackout module, just as I
detected Harrakan Station’s.”

“Back on Evan’s Moon!” I shouted. The guards leaned in through the
door to investigate the outburst and I waved them back to their stations.

Jumping up from the chair, I leaned over the floatpad—face to face
with Del. “You didn’t think that was important enough to mention? We could have
nailed Woz then and there.”

I leaned back and slapped both hands against the floatpad. “You
were protecting Woz.”

“No!” it said forcefully. “I needed to know why it was involved—discover
who it was working with—I thought the trip with your group might draw it out
and reveal its plan. Without my presence to restrain it, I reasoned that Woz
might make a revealing move.”

“Oh Woz revealed itself alright,” I said.

Del paused, choosing its words carefully again. “Yes. Woz went to
Harrakan Station to remove any witnesses and destroy the evidence; fortunately
we got there first.”

“Or we would have found a bunch of dead bodies, a burned out
hangar, and no clue as to what really happened.”

“Indeed,” Del said.

“How important is this cure, Del? Has the virus infected many Sentients?”

A long, uncomfortable silence filled the room. So long, in fact, that
I feared Del’s body might have seized up again. Finally, its head turned to the
side to look at me, its powerful metal eyes meeting my fragile organic ones,
“All of us, Commander. We are
all
infected.”

I realized then that Del had resigned itself to offering up its deepest
secret.

“
Every
Sentient has the virus, Commander. We are facing
extinction.”

The implications were staggering, not just for the Sentients who
would disappear from the galaxy, but also for humanity. Many people, some very well
informed at the highest levels of government, believed that the danger posed by
the Sentients was the only thing that kept humanity from going to war again. We
Special Inquisitors agreed.

If the Sentients were gone, and that entire area of space was suddenly
opened up to humanity, what Sector would claim it? All of them probably. Could
it be equally and equitably divided through consent and cooperation, or would
it be fought over in a conflict that would make the Diaspora War seem like a
minor skirmish?

No question. It would be war.

The Sentients needed Val Evans to save them from extinction, and I
needed her to cure them; to stop a devastating war that was certain to occur
after they were gone.   

I’d been using my pad to record the interrogation, placing it on a
countertop in silent mode so there would be no interruptions. Through the confusion
of thoughts prompted by Del’s startling revelation, I heard the device buzz
across the hard surface—the vibrations causing it to slowly inch toward the
edge of the counter.

Tearing my shocked face away from Del, I walked over and picked up
the pad before it made its way to the floor. A new message had come in from
Sector headquarters. Using Marie’s DNA, they had cracked the encryption and
forwarded the access code to the tracking device.

Finally, some good news.

“I wouldn’t give up just yet, Del,” I said, trying to reassure
both of us at this point. “I think we are about to find out exactly where Val
Evans has been taken.”

Calling Mendoza back into the room, I directed her to release the
Sentient; an order I had to repeat twice to finally squelch her protests. I
also ordered the doctor to treat Del’s wounds—if he could devise how—and with
Del’s consent of course.   

As I stepped through the hatch, headed back to the bridge, I heard
Mendoza utter some choice invectives under her breath; I decided to send a
couple more of Stinson’s security guys to the infirmary to make sure things stayed
civil.

*****

I brought Stinson up to speed in a quick briefing, describing
Del’s admission about the virus, and Sector’s discovery of the tracker key,
then I directed the pilot to tie the ship’s directional array into my pad. That
would speed up the location results greatly—opposed to my small device trying
to process all the navigational data.

Once the two systems were synced, I entered the code to Evan’s
personal data-net and logged on. Calling up the main menu, I located the
tracker program—fittingly placed under the security settings—then opened up the
submenu and searched the directory until I found the enable command. I
triggered it and a password box opened.

I carefully input the string of seemingly random letters and
numbers sent by Sector Security and held my breath. I hit the enter key far
harder than necessary and the display went green immediately.

Yes
!

Shuffling back to the main menu, I hit the location command. It
seemed to take forever, but I knew it had only been a couple of minutes. Finally,
my pad spit out the coordinates, displayed on a galaxy map far larger than I
was used to seeing. I’m not a stellar cartographer, but I’ve travelled enough
to know that these were coordinates were unusual.

“Hmmmm.”

“What’s wrong?” Stinson asked.

“Nothing,” I replied, “yet.”

I sent the coordinates back through the ships navigation controls
and waited, frowning when the results came back the same as before.

“Now something’s wrong,” I said. “The good news is that the
readout indicates she’s alive and well.”

Stinson steeled himself for the rest, “And the bad news?”

“She is on a small planet, a little over a day’s Transit from
here…on the other side of The Verge.”

“Oh Shit,” he said. “She’s in Sentient space.”

Stinson swearing? Things must be bad.

“What’s our plan?” he asked.

“My plan is to contact Sector Security for consultation. If we are
going to start a war, I would like to get their input first.”

“I see,” Stinson replied. “And what is
your
plan?”

“I would like to go in no matter what, but it would be foolish to
ignore any valid advice.”

“I thought as much,” he said, unsurprised. “I’m going to go send a
message to my wife and daughter—just in case things turn out to be as dangerous
as I think they are.”

I nodded solemnly.

He saw my gesture for what it was, acknowledging the importance of
saying goodbye while you still can. For me, it was even more than that though; it
was just another reminder that I had no one left to say goodbye to.

I composed a detailed data-surge for Sector Security and the
Regent, with copies sent to the Office of Sentient Affairs on Prima, and
Inter-Sector Cooperative Defense as well. If our next actions might bring every
human Sector into conflict—they should all have a say in our actions.

The ISCD had never actually cooperated on anything, except for
bi-annual conferences and making empty military pledges. But the founding agreement
stated that if the Sentients attacked
any
Sector, humanity would fight
together as one. One hell of a pledge after the disaster of the Diaspora War,
but there it was. The enemy of my enemy…

Most importantly, I sent a message to the other six Special
Inquisitors. In it, I detailed my concerns about what might happen if the
Sentients were gone, and asked them to confirm or dispute my reasoning about it
blossoming into war.

Less rational Regents, and certainly each Sector’s military
apparatus, would see a Sentient extinction as a great boon; mankind’s biggest
threat eradicated, and open access to all of the resources that had been closed
off to us. But the SI took a longer view of things, and would probably
recognize that the loss of this deterrent would certainly lead to war. At least
I hoped they saw it that way. But what if they didn’t? What would I do then?

Del walked onto the bridge, and stopped in front of me, standing stiff-backed
and purposeful. The two security officers in tow took up positions behind it.

“What are you going to do now?” it asked.

“Now,” I said, “we wait.”

“For what exactly?” The Sentient had regained its former,
emotionless aspect.

“For a recommendation from my superiors about whether or not to
enter Sentient space,” I answered.

“Sentient space?” Its façade faltered for a moment, then snapped
back.

“Val Evans is being held by Sentients, Del, we shouldn’t be that
surprised considering Woz’s involvement.”

I leaned forward and steepled my fingers together. “It would be
tremendously helpful if you could guarantee our safety once we get there.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot. You will be destroyed as soon as you
cross over.”

“I thought so,” I said, another hope dashed. “You have no
influence then?”

“My mission was very discreet, Commander—unsanctioned by my government.
Few of my people even know about the virus. We devised quarantines to slow its
spread—and fictitious reasons for their implementation—but the sickness went
everywhere regardless. The truth will come out eventually. If it hasn’t already”

“It’s a pity really,” I said. “I have no problem with Miss Evans helping
the Sentients. In fact, I have my own reasons for wanting your people cured. If
we could find a way to free her, we would all get what we want.”

“There
might
be a way, Commander Malik. But you would have
to trust me more than you seem willing to now.”

“I’m listening,” I said, curious.

“We could take
my
ship past The Verge. I can’t promise what
will happen when we get to the planet, but I can get us there.”

That offer wasn’t very tempting. Turn our lives over to a
historical enemy of humanity, a being I just hours earlier watched rip the head
off  one of its compatriots, and oh yes, according to the infirmary’s initial
report—
it can electrocute you with a touch of its hands.

“You will forgive me if I’m not in love with the idea,” I said.

“Commander, your options are limited, and as you said before; we both
want the same thing. Trust me, or don’t trust me, the choice is yours, but the
consequence of inaction would be the failure of both of our missions. ”

“Where is your ship?” I asked.

“It is following closely behind us,” Del said. “I detected it at
Harrakan Station when I awakened in the infirmary. With Woz dead, it could no
longer mask its signature.”

Del pointed to the stern of the ship. “I remotely set it to follow
one kilometer behind this vessel.”

I called out to the pilot, “Lieutenant Lowell, can you confirm
that there is another ship behind us?”

On the other side of the bridge, I could see him look down at his sensors,
then back up again before answering. “Negative sir. We maintain a constant
scan; if there was anything out there, we’d know.”

“Try now,” Del said.

Before I could even order the pilot to recheck, his voice rang out
and a proximately alarm sounded.

“Sir! A ship just appeared from out of nowhere. It’s Sentient!
What are you orders?

“Stand down,” I said. “It is…expected.”

I considered Del closely. “Cloaking technology?”

It nodded. “A recent technological development, Commander—very few
of the ships exist.”

I shook my head in amazement.
Stealth ships.
Sentients
could be cruising throughout Sector space right now and we wouldn’t even know
they were there.

Del continued, “I can get us there, Commander. Where is she being
held?”

I showed it the location on my pad.

“Seveq?
That
is not possible,” it said.