Ice and Peace (12 page)

“Colonel,” a voice said beside him.

He glanced up at Berger standing beside him. “Commander,” he said, returning to his drawing.

“May I join you?”

“Please.”

Berger sat in the chair across from him. “You like to draw, huh?”

“Yep.”

“My artistic endeavors involve paying for the expensive art my wife likes to buy, that’s about it. I can’t even draw stick people.” Berger leaned over to take a closer look at Keegan’s drawing.

Slightly annoyed at the interruption, Keegan tolerated it, believing there had to be some reason why the commander had decided to join him.

“Why didn’t you go to some fancy New York art school?” Berger asked.

Keegan continued drawing though his concentration was broken. The lines no longer came out as sharp as he liked.

“Me? There?”

The notion of him living and working in the East Village in New York was rather funny. He’d rather command a battalion to raid it than live in it. He wasn’t the artsy, fancy-free type. He raised his brow.

They both chuckled.

“I suppose you’re right. I came by to tell you we found two bodies. One in a storage closet not too far from the CIC and the other in the forecastle.”

“Who?”

“Lieutenant J.G. Kimberly Watkins and Specialist Donette Falco. The doc is checking now to find out cause of death. Lieutenant Watkins was a nurse in the main infirmary.”

Keegan put down his drawing. “Any suspects?”

“No. But we’re conducting a thorough investigation. And there was something else. Medical has reported several vials of Cryotherazine missing from their supply.”

“Perhaps it’s being used by the cryos we have on board.”

“According to Bishop, those bottles are accounted for. The ones missing were in overflow.”

Berger stood and glanced at the naturescape Keegan had drawn. “Gadison got wind of this and has decided to help.”

“Lucky for us.”

“I’m gonna talk to the cryos and see what they know.”

“What about other members of the crew?”

“I have some people investigating other possibilities but since the stuff is so highly specialized, I’m going to keep my investigation narrowed to likely suspects. You and I both know the stuff has a short shelf life outside of the deep freeze. So whoever’s got it has to use it fast. And there aren’t many people here who’d be able to.”

Keegan didn’t like where this investigation was going, but he had no choice but to see it through. “Thank you, Commander. Keep me posted.”

“Aye, sir.”

“And check on our guest, Dr. Roesner, just to be sure, she's all right.”

“Will do.”

He continued sketching until Berger left the room. Once alone, Keegan rose and looked out the window.

“Damn.”

Chapter Fifteen

Jenny sniffed the cold air; it smelled of a familiar substance. Cryotherazine. The chemical’s peculiar compound offered her relief from the ship’s warm air. She scratched the skin on her arm, tearing the tiny blisters on its patchy white surface.

She hated being aboard, but it was a necessary evil. It was the only way she was able to get out of the facility and onto an Earth-based vessel in the hopes of tracking Dr. Rimmer. At least the bases she and her team had raided had been more suitable for her kind. Their cold temperatures allowed their bodies to remain cool when they exerted themselves. Unlike humans, they had been engineered without sweat glands.

The empire had deemed them unnecessary because they believed their service would be entirely in frigid environments. They’d never considered the possibility of ever assigning them to duties in warmer temperatures. It took only a hundred deaths before they sought a solution.

As she walked up to each door, she peered inside the room through the small window located near the top. A lone figure rested on the cot in each room. Upon discovering a contingent of cryos were stationed on the ship, she immediately set about finding out where they stayed. Each night, she took the risk of being detected by the roving patrols but here no one would dare to look. Unlike on the base, here she was one person among thousands and knew she could blend in easily along as she didn’t raise any suspicions. Like telling the guards posted outside her door she was feeling claustrophobic and needed to “stretch her legs.”

At first, she was concerned they would follow her but, when they didn’t, she realized they were there to protect her, not imprison her. Of course, it was going to be hard for them to explain why she never returned. But then that was their problem. As one of thousands in a ship of this size, the odds were in her favor.

Finally, finding a room toward the end of the corridor, she peeked inside. It appeared to be more of a storage unit than a room. The environmental controls were still hooked in, keeping it cool and making it perfect for her needs, and the area did not seem heavily monitored. Closing the door behind her, she searched through the various containers stored inside and found some leftover blankets and uniforms. Balling them up, she walked over to a corner and lay down. She set her watch to wake her just before the change of first watch. The light turned off, placing her in total darkness. Shutting her eyes, she was comforted by the thought she would be off the ship soon and back with her own people.

***

Caitlin folded her arms around herself protectively. She felt vulnerable and exposed even though she was going to speak to her husband. Their relationship had changed drastically since she came on board, and the change was pulling them apart. She glanced at the photographs inside the briefing room just off the CIC. They were taken when a version of the Blanchard was in Earth’s blue Navy, when it patrolled Earth’s oceans. The men and women appeared so confident. It was as if they could step out of the frames and operate the ship today.

Not long ago, she would have identified with her twentieth century counterparts, wishing she could go back to the world she once knew. But not anymore. They’d no more accept her than the people she served with now. At least now, she had people who shared her condition.

The door to the briefing room closed behind her.

“What is it?” he asked from behind her.

It took some fast thinking and little lying for her to get through the layers of ranks separating them. As a rule, if a person had a problem they went to their immediate CO or department head, and then higher up from there, never breaking the chain of command. But considering she and her team were classified, not many on board held the proper security clearance to discuss the ops of her team. Then there was the little fact she was married to the ship’s captain.

“The XO has been questioning my team.” Strong and handsome, his powerful presence took over the room. Everything about him said he had it under control. Her confidence he would handle it grew.

“So?”

“So, why is he?”

“Did you ask them what he wanted?”

“Yeah, they said he was asking about where they’ve been, how much of their meds they’ve been dosing. What gives?”

“Ask the XO.”

Frustrated, she stamped her agitation down. “I did. He’s not talking.”

He looked away and paused as if to think. He sighed.

“Just cooperate with him, and everything will be fine.”

“Are you going to tell me what's going on?” she asked, barely maintaining her composure.

“What do you expect me say?” He approached her.

She wanted him to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. That it was just procedure, and her team wasn’t under suspicion for some wrongdoing she had no idea about.

“I expect you to tell me what’s going on.”

“Like what?”

“Like who was that guy in the CIC the other day giving crappy advice on how to extricate a victim in a known hostile environment? Or why are the XO and his gang of MP’s rambling through my team’s stuff?” she demanded, raising her voice.

“Dial it down, Chief,” he warned.

Shocked, she stepped back.

“So that’s how you want to play it?”

He straightened his pose. “You think this is a game? Well, wise up!” He spun around and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

A part of her was tempted to chase after him and demand answers, but she knew her place. She wasn’t his wife; she was his soldier. “Shit.”

Nothing in her life made sense. Not her relationship with her husband nor her job. What was the point? She felt like a weathervane turning in the wind, in a million directions.

Leaving the room, she made her way to the passageway outside the CIC. Footsteps sounded behind her.

“Chief,” a man’s voice called out.

Caitlin stopped and turned around. It was the same man from the CIC the other day. She noted the silver leaf on his lapel. “Yes, sir?”

“May I speak with you?”

“Of course, sir.”

He escorted her into the room she had just left. She stood at attention near the center as he shut the door behind them.

“Chief Warrant Officer Driskoll, I am Commander Gadison, and I would like to ask you some questions. Please sit.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I understand you are here with your unit?”

“Correct.”

“They are a specially designated Maritime Special Operations Force?”

“That is correct, sir.”

“What are the primary tasks of your team?”

Caitlin paused. “Sir, may I ask a question?”

The information he was asking was classified, and she wasn’t willing to give it up to just anyone, whether in uniform or not. Besides, if he was Intel, wouldn’t he already have access to that type of information?

“Certainly.”

“Who are you?”

“I am who I stated myself to be,” he replied.

“Permission to rephrase?”

“Granted.”

“Which Command do you represent?”

Commander Gadison chuckled. “Your file says you are smart.”

He leaned back and crossed his legs. “I am not at liberty to say. However, you are authorized to give me your full cooperation in my questioning. Is that understood?”

Caitlin remained silent, unsure of what to make of him and his intentions.

“Chief Driskoll, I can assure you my clearance is higher than yours.”

“Everybody’s clearance is higher than mine. Where are you from? I can tell you’re not from this ship.”

“As I asked before, Chief, what are the primary tasks of your team?”

“That information is classified. And considering your security clearance I am sure, sir, you will have no problem obtaining it.”

“Are you refusing to answer my question?”

“No, sir. I am refusing to divulge classified information.”

“I can have you arrested.”

“Thank you, sir. I can use the rest.”

He looked away and smiled. “Okay, I see where this is going. You’d better cooperate with me, because your future depends on it.”

He appeared unimpressed with her less than cooperative attitude.

“Once again. Will you reconsider?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well?”

“I have, and the answer is still no. When I have proof of who you are, it will be permissible for me to do so.”

She studied his insignia, seeing if she recognized his Command. Her thoughts became fuzzy. Suddenly, she had the desire to do exactly what he wanted. Caitlin sat forward and leaned on the table. She refocused her gaze and stared at the desk. Slowly her thoughts cleared.

“Did you find it interesting?”

“What, sir?” She squinted at him. Her vision became as hazy as her mind.

“The news of the research station’s status.”

“I do not follow, sir.”

“The station’s status. Did you find it interesting?”

“I found it to be tragic.”

“How so?”

“The loss of life.”

She fought with every fiber of her being to maintain her reality. Though her mind said obey, her spirit yelled no.

“The scientists, the mission on the planet. Did everything turn out as planned?”

“I don’t follow.”

“The killing of the people in the facility, the theft of government property.”

“Are you nuts?” She stood pushing away the chair.

“How do we know your team didn’t kill those people on the planet and then claim they were killed by unknown combatants?”

“That’s ridiculous. You were monitoring our signals the entire time. If shots were fired, you would have heard them,” she replied, shocked they gave someone so dim such rank.

“Someone killed those scientists and now we have two more bodies, plus missing bottles of Cryotherazine. You want to explain that?”

“Not really.”

“Did you or your team steal bottles of Cryotherazine?”

“What?” Caitlin jumped to her feet. “They give it to us for free!”

“Did I push a button, Chief? Did I make you mad?”

Caitlin stared him directly in the eye and smirked. “Don’t you have relatives you should be turning in?”

His jaw tensed, and his eyes became set like stone. “Sit down. That’s an order.”

She sat slowly. The chair scraped against the floor as she moved it closer to the table. Deep inside her mind, turmoil built up for disobeying a superior officer. She rubbed her forehead and brow and avoided looking at his rank and insignia. She knew it would only make things worse.

“If you come clean now, perhaps they’ll go easy on you.”

That was a lie. It was well known that any acts of terrorism or violence by an O-cryo against a regular meant instant death.

“I didn’t do anything—we,” she said, fighting for clarity, “didn’t do anything.”

She looked at the wall behind him. The clouds in her mind cleared. Her resolve began to build.

“You have an interesting record. Up until a few years ago, you were a nothing, a nobody. You were a bullet catcher on an icy planet with a one-way ticket to destiny. And now, all of a sudden you’re a warrant officer. How did you climb the promotion ladder so fast?”

“Because I’m good at what I do.”

“And that would be?”

“Killing chilly assholes like yourself.”

***

Keegan frowned as a soldier walked onto the bridge, wearing a holstered weapon on his hip. It was forbidden to do so for everyone except the chief of the watch, who stood guard at the bridge at all times.