Deviation (33 page)

"How are you feeling?" David asked. His voice was far too chipper.

"Like hell," she said around a dry and thick tongue.

He chuckled. "Maybe this will make you feel better."

He flipped the computer screen to face her. The screen was partitioned by a vertical line down the center. She knew that both screens were showing images from a microscope, she just couldn't translate the meaning behind them, which was fine since David wasted no time in explaining. He pointed to the left side of the screen, "Your blood six hours ago. You see the cells infected?"

Reesa nodded mutely.

David pointed to the right screen, "Your blood forty-five minutes ago. See the difference?"

Of course she saw the difference. It was hard not to. The wicked, crab-like cells of the Mavirus, so prominent in the left side of the screen, were almost completely absent in the second screen.

"I'm ... I'm cured?"

"Not completely," David grinned at her. "But one more treatment will certainly remove the last bits of the virus from you."

"How?"

His grin was so big it was almost annoying. But he had apparently just saved her life so Reesa endured his ebullience. "I altered the genetic code of the virus. It won't work on the altered females in society. Not yet, anyway. But we have a place to start. And all thanks to you." David rocked on his heels. "I kept altering my formula because the subjects kept dying at increasing speeds, but then I realized my original code was built around the original bloodline. Which meant ... "

"You needed an unaltered female for it to work."

"And it has worked," David said. "Beautifully so. Be proud, sister, you just made history."

"She's used to that."

Reesa felt her heart stutter at the sound of Hedric's voice. She found him at the decompression doorway, looking bedraggled and quite homicidal. There was blood in his hair, smeared down the left side of his face and he was wearing a metallic leg brace that stretched up to his left thigh. He was not looking at her, though that fact only seemed to intensify her fear. His long chin was dipped low, his eyes focused on his weapon - a 9mm like the one he'd used to abduct her - and Reesa prayed that she might just pass out.

"Aren't you, Miss Zimmerman?" Hedric's voice hit a peculiar note and Reesa grappled with her growing terror.

"Zimmerman?" David frowned over at him. "This woman's name is Mrs. Borden. Now who the hell are you?"

In response, Hedric lifted his weapon and fired. Reesa found the breath to scream just as David's body crashed into the bedside table, shattering the crystal glass on his way. It was remarkably clean for a shooting, which was a crazy thought for her to have so she tried to shove it aside. And then David slid to the ground, just beside her, just within view, and for a stunned moment she wondered if maybe the doctor had been wearing some sort of protective gear. But then he coughed a desperate, wet gurgle and the dark, brownish red of blood spewed onto his white lab coat.

Reesa stared at David, too shocked to move. He looked up at her and his expression seemed just as surprised. Then he slumped to the side, his body making an awful smacking sound as he fell completely over. Blinking back frightened tears, she slowly looked up at Hedric.

He hadn't moved from the doorway, but his attention had settled on her.

"My mother says you're a prophet," Hedric's voice was flat, as dead as David Borden on the floor.

Adrenaline managed to shove the drugs in her system down. Not totally down since her head still felt heavy and it was hard to move her body, but at least Reesa was able to sit up. Her stomach disagreed with this action but with David dead and Matthew God knows where, she forced herself not to vomit and slowly let her legs dangle off the bed.

"A prophet," Hedric repeated.

He made no move to stop her. In fact, his entire body seemed rigid, unmoving in the corner, blocking the only exit. Because she knew him, Reesa understood that posture. It was classic Hedric Prosser, squared against his enemy, ready to kill. She recognized it and tried to resign herself to it.

It was tragic, she thought. Absolutely tragic that David would wake her with the news that she would be the first Mavirus survivor. Tragic and unfair that whatever future that news had opened for her would be snuffed out just moments later. But it was nothing less than fate that it would be Hedric who was the death of her. She had, after all, essentially put the man through eight years of hell, shoving him in and out of dire circumstances, killing his friends, endangering his life.

And taking Mesa.

"Tell me," he said after a minute. "When you were writing me out, did you see this coming?"

Reesa shook her head, too terrified to speak.

"That's not very prophet-like."

"I'm ... I'm just an author ... " Reesa felt hot tears slip over her face. "Please ... "

His head cocked to the side and she read the struggle on his face. Reesa stopped pleading. She almost stopped breathing, but when he asked his next question all the air left her.

"Was Mesa happy?"

She didn't know why exactly, but the question broke her heart. Whatever answer she gave him, Reesa knew he would kill her anyway. Were she a more vindictive person she might have lied and said no. Then let the man torture himself with questions for the rest of his life. In the end, however, Reesa was not capable of that sort of cruelty. She thought she should be, with everything he had done to her and Kate, but the words she gave him were that of comfort.

"Yes," she said. "Mesa was very happy."

"General Archibald Erid, current head of the Makeem Loyalists, announced his intentions to investigate the so-called redeemer of womankind. "If there is redemption in the eyes of the Lord, he certainly hasn't informed me of it," said an angry Erid at a press conference held last night at his home. It is unclear whether or not he has sought sanction from the Community for his intended investigations." - A.P. Monday, November 26, 2998

"You were right, sir. The Lothogy is docked here in hanger three," Romberg said.

The communications device at the base of his ear was quieter than wearing his helmet, but Matt heard him clearly. He nodded to Chamberlain and Newbill to confirm that they'd heard the report, too. They waited by the docking area, each of them in an eclectic sort of personalized armor.

While all three had chosen to keep their combat vests on, Newbill had chosen to equip shin and forearm protectors as well. Chamberlain was more practical. He'd forgone the shin guards and chosen just the forearm protectors. But they were both armed with three light weapons ranging from nine millimeter to forty-fives. Anything above a forty-five could upset the equilibrium of the Balor's internal pressure system, otherwise Matt suspected they would have preferred to confront Hedric with their customary weaponry.

Matt could see the violence in their faces. Neither of these men had forgotten the deaths of Knox, Finnegan, and Pitts. While Hedric could only take the full blame for Knox's death, Matt knew his men would still hold Hedric accountable for the others.

His own heart twisted at the memory of Finnegan's death, but he pushed the emotion aside as the loading dock opened. With his own weapon at the ready, Matt led the way into the hanger bay.

The Lothogy looked like hell. It stood to the left of the Io, half of its surface blackened by burns. Large sheets of metal patched several places along the hull of the ship, testifying that Hedric hadn't wasted any time.

"One heat signature on the Lothogy," Romberg relayed.

"On it," Newbill said.

Matt nodded to him and watched as Newbill ran for the Lothogy's loading plank. Even with the shin guards the man made very little noise. A moment later Newbill disappeared into the Lothogy and Matt had to change his focus.

The two guards normally stationed at the Balor's internal door were down. Motioning to Chamberlain, Matt hurried across the bay and to the first guard. He knelt beside the body and checked for a pulse, already knowing there wouldn't be one. Chamberlain did the same for the second guard and shook his head.

"I've raised Baine," Romberg said. "Patching him through now."

"Sir," Baine's voice came through the line a second later.

"We've got uninvited guests," Mat said and signaled for Chamberlain to open the internal doors.

They both took position on either side of the door.

"Yes, sir," Baine said. "Three detachments have been sent. Alpha detachment hasn't responded in two minutes. Bravo is holed up on the south side of the medical bay. Apparently there is a barricade between them and the quarantine room. And Delta is headed toward you to insure there are no escapes."

The doors opened and Chamberlain checked to make sure the way was clear. At his signal, Matt nodded and they both entered the corridor beyond.

"I doubt they mean to escape, sir," Chamberlain said.

Matt grunted his agreement, keeping a steady pace toward the medical bay. There were relatively few bodies strewn across the naked hallway; hapless civilians and scientists who had wondered out of their prospective rooms at the wrong moment. After the first three Matt gave up checking them for signs of life. Hedric and his team were far too accurate and their victims hadn't known what was coming.

"Boss," Newbill's voice overtook the comms. "I've got Alexander Keats here. He says you've got two men headed for Reesa's position. Hedric and Jellison."

"You believe him?" Chamberlain asked.

"Considering we found little bits and pieces of Freeman on Mars and Myron is laid up in our own medical unit," Newbill said, "Yeah, I believe him."

They'd reached the medical bay doors. Matt veered to the left, crouching low under the viewing window and paused to catch his breath. Chamberlain slid to the right of the door, just as low, and raised a ruddy eyebrow at him in question.

"Alright," Matt whispered into his boom-mike. "Newbill, secure Keats and head to the south entrance to medical. See if you can't clear away that barricade."

"Roger."

Taking a firmer grip on his weapon, Matt nodded to Chamberlain. The man nodded back then lifted himself just enough to peer through the window. When he had settled back onto his haunches, Chamberlain signaled that there was one hostile, facing away, positioned somewhere on the southern side of the room beyond.

Matthew reached up to release the doors.

He heard the magnetics release and something clanked to the ground on the other side of the door. He spotted the grenade as the door slid open and shouted a warning. Scrambling to his feet, Matt ran for the far end of the hall. Shots were fired behind him and he ducked his head.

Heat and light exploded through the corridor, knocking him off his feet. He slammed face first into the western wall and fell. Shrapnel seared through his pant leg and embedded itself deep into his calf muscle. Several other bits pounded into the back of his combat vest and he had the presence of mind to curl up and protect his head.

Underneath him the ship rocked with the sudden explosion, air pressure redistributing itself quickly. He heard Baine ordering all of the safety procedures, sealing off medical from the rest of the ship in case they had to vent.

Dazed, Matt struggled to sit up.

A spherical ball of fire was eating at what oxygen was still present and suddenly Matt wished he'd worn his full suit. Not only would he be able to breathe inside the helmet, but he wouldn't have a finger-sized bit of metal lodged in his body.

Sealing them off would stop the output of oxygen into their area, he knew. They didn't have much time.

His mind flicked to Reesa. Her quarantine room ran on a separate air supply, so she should be safe even if they had to vent the whole bay. If she was still alive, he thought.

Grimacing, Matt probed the gash in his leg with his fingers until he located the shrapnel. He pulled it out carefully, hissing in pain, and tossed it aside.

Chamberlain was prone just behind him. Matt shifted to check on him, praying he hadn't lost another soldier. He found a steady, rapid pulse and he breathed in relief.

"Newbill, redirect to my position. Chamberlain is down."

He didn't have time to hear the response. Sharp pain thrust through his ribs and Matt fell forward. Chamberlain suddenly burst into action, firing three times at a spot just behind Matt and rolling to his feet. Matt watched in confusion as his soldier launched forward. Their attacker was Jellison. Sweat streaked and boxy featured, there was no mistaking the military man. The two men collided with a meaty, visceral sound and combined grunts of pain.

Bracing himself with the wall, Matt glanced between the fight and the open medical bay doors. The fire was between him and the doors, a glowing orb right in the center of his path. He'd never really seen a fire in artificial gravity before. It made an upside-down teardrop shape, pointing toward the gravity controls built into the flooring, but didn't move from its spot. That seemed odd to him but he really didn't have time to puzzle it through.

Jellison and Chamberlain crashed into the wall beside him, Chamberlain on top. Matt thought about aiming his weapon but knew he wasn't a good enough shot. He'd likely hit Chamberlain instead.

"Boss!" Newbill shouted as he ran into the corridor. He was lugging a canister of Co2 repellent and proceeded to douse the flame ball until it sputtered out. Then he turned to where Chamberlain had wrestled Jellison down onto the floor. "Go get your girl, Boss. We've got this."

Matt nodded and made a hurried limp for the medical bay.

***

Hedric felt her words more than he heard them. They settled hard on his chest, sunk deep into his core and rent him in two. Somewhere inside him he'd known that would be the answer. He'd known because their happiness had been shared. Mesa could never have hidden such an emotion from him. He was simultaneously soothed and incensed by hearing it confirmed.

The Zimmerman woman had gotten to her feet. Hedric managed to focus on that. She stood just two steps away from him, one hand holding tight to the IV pole, the other covered her mouth. She had Mesa's blue eyes, round and wide and terrified as she gazed at the doctor's body. That was wrong somehow. Mesa had never been terrified. His wife had been strong and brave. Zimmerman didn't deserve to be compared with her.