Start (22 page)

Carson
had a relatively good working relationship with Admiral Forest.
Sure, she was frosty, but that could be said for most of the
admirals he’d ever met. You didn’t get to climb the ranks that high
by being sweetness and light. Forest was efficient and to the
point, and right now she growled at Carson once more to leave the
damn hospital and go back to his apartment.

Though
he should have immediately snapped a salute, turned from her, and
followed her direct order, he didn’t. Despite his years of
training, he simply stood there, his lips parted in
surprise.

“You
heard me,” Forest grumbled. “There is nothing you can do from this
room. Nobody will answer your questions; I have told everybody in
this hospital not to answer anybody’s questions. From the press,
from her parents, from friends, from cadets, from anybody. This
situation is now locked down,” Forest brought up a finger and
pointed at the ground with so much finality it was a wonder the
concrete didn’t shatter into dust.

Carson
swallowed hard, and he had to use every ounce of self-control not
to tell her he had no intention of following her order.

Forest
pressed her lips together and considered him in silence for several
seconds. “You have done all you can. We have got it
now.”

“So
I’m just meant to return to my
apartment . . . and what? Pretend nothing
happened? Get on with my life? Forget
this . . . whatever this is?” Carson pushed his
questions out, even though asking them was against his better
judgement. While he did objectively have a good relationship with
Forest, she was an admiral, and he wasn’t. He was just a
lieutenant, and he had absolutely no right to be peppering his
superior with demands. She would tell him just as much as she
believed he needed to know, and no more. That was how the chain of
command worked.

But
right now, he chose to forget that as he squared off his shoulders,
locked his jaw, and stared down at her, demanding an
answer.

Forest
held his gaze like the true professional she was, then she arched
an eyebrow slowly. “For god sakes, man, there’s nothing more you
can do here. And no, you aren’t meant to go home and forget about
this. We will keep you in the loop, but right now, there isn’t much
of a loop to keep you in, and you aren’t doing anybody any favours
by sitting grumpily in this room. We have our best people working
on this, and right now, you need to go and get some rest. Because
we never know when we might have to get the Force involved,” she
added under her breath.

Carson’s eyebrows crumpled at that. He couldn’t help it; it
was an instinctive move. At Forest's mumbled comment, his belly
kicked with nerves, and panic cascaded up his back like a cold,
frozen wash of ice, freezing him as it went. “What is that meant to
mean?”

Forest
looked up at him sharply. She appeared to consider her words before
she answered, “we need to find out what is happening here, we also
need to be prepared in case things get worse.”

“Worse?” Carson took a step towards Forest, even though it was
an intimidating move, and she was the kind of woman who could not
be intimidated.

Sure
enough, she didn’t stand back or shut up, she simply hardened her
gaze and shot him a look that told him he was nothing but a boy
compared to her. “We have no idea what has happened to her implant,
none. But it’s clear that whatever it is, it cannot be controlled
and is very, very dangerous. We need to act to find out what is
going on and to ensure that whatever the trouble is, it won’t
spread,” Forest's voice became croaky as a burst of desperation
constricted her throat.

Despite himself, Carson shivered. “Spreads? How could it
spread? The last I heard, the technicians told me that the damage
to Harper's implant was likely due to some kind of
impact.”

Forest
considered him in silence, then she shook her head. She had closely
cropped brown hair, and for a moment, she forced her fingers
through it, the knuckles white with tension. “That was just a
theory, and now it has been superseded by another,” she said
diplomatically.

“Tell
me.”

Again,
Forest arched an eyebrow at him. “I will tell you as much as I
believe you need to know, and you should not push me for more
information.”

Carson
slammed his teeth together, swallowing whatever insult came to
mind.

She
was right.

“But
as for this, you will likely find out about it soon anyway,” she
sighed, and it was a particularly heavy, fatigued move that
suggested she was far more tired than her steely gaze allowed for.
In fact, it was likely the Admiral wouldn’t get a chance to rest
any time soon; the entire Academy and every member of its council
would be awake until this situation was solved.

Carson
withdrew into silence, allowing her the opportunity to answer at
her own pace. It was hard though; he wanted to rush up to her, beg
her—no shout at her—to tell him everything right now.

“There
is some kind of . . . energy attacking the
implant,” she managed.

Carson
felt cold. Colder than before. In fact, the chill that passed
across his skin was so perfect and complete it felt as if the blood
had been pumped from his veins and replaced with nothing but
powdered snow. “Energy?” He repeated in a husky tone.

Forest
nodded, closing her eyes briefly as she did. When she flashed them
open again, she appeared to double her efforts at composing
herself. “We have kept it in check so far with a stasis field, but
we cannot say what it is and where it has come from.”

Carson
doubled back. “What do you mean by energy?”

Forest
shrugged her shoulders, momentarily looking completely lost.
Admiral Lara Forest was not the kind of woman who ever looked lost;
she knew how to handle herself in every single situation, and it
was usually with forthright power and determination. Yet now she
brought up that same white knuckled hand and forced it through her
short hair. “We don’t know. Something is attacking the implant. It
could be an entity; it could be some form of radiation we have
never encountered. All we know is that there is some kind of blue,
cascading light that appears to be . . . well,
destroying the implant,” Forest managed with a brief shake of her
head.

Carson
stood there and waited for her to explain. Because what she had
said made no sense. None at all.

An
entity, blue energy? It sounded like pseudo-science from 1000 years
ago. And then he remembered something. Something that sent a
powerful shudder shooting up his spine as if somebody had slammed a
sledgehammer into it.

Blue
light.

Several times, he had sworn he’d seen a flash of blue light in
Harper’s eyes. Right in the depths of her pupils. Each time he had
dismissed it, because, frankly, it had seemed
impossible.

Now it
chilled him even more, until he felt like nothing more than a body
carved from ice.

“The
short of it is, simply, that we do not know. We are still doing
tests, and that is why we must be very careful. We need to keep
this under wraps,” Forest's determination returned to her, and she
pointed another stiff knuckled hand at the floor, “we cannot let
word of this get out until we know what we are dealing with. There
could be panic.”

Carson
did not need Forest to explain that; he understood the sentiment
completely. At the mere mention that Cadet Harper's implant had
malfunctioned several days ago, the Academy had buzzed at the
gossip. Telekinetic implants, after all, did not malfunction. But
what was now happening to Harper and her
implant . . . went beyond that. It went several
thousand light years beyond that. Something was attacking her, and
nobody, including the smartest minds in the galaxy, had any idea
what it was.

Panic,
in fact, would be an understatement. The kind of furore this news
would create could cripple the Academy. Every single cadet,
officer, lieutenant, captain, and admiral had a telekinetic
implant. You received it on your first day at the Academy, and you
wore it until you died. It was integral to the use of the United
Galactic Coalition Army's technology.

If
something threatened that . . . god, it
practically threatened the future of the United Galactic
Coalition.

For
the first time he realised how serious this was, and he took a step
back, slapping a hand on his open mouth and drawing a breath
through his sweaty fingers.

Forest
watched him carefully. “No news of this can get out,” she
repeated.

He
nodded. “But . . . ,” he began, searching for
something to ask that would force this situation to make sense,
“what do we do now?”

“We
let the doctors and technicians work,” she said clearly, false calm
infiltrating her voice. It was false, because there was no way
anyone, even Admiral Lara Forest, could be calm under circumstances
like these.

“Is
she . . . . Do you think she'll be okay?” he
stuttered.

. . . .

It was
the dumbest question he could have asked, especially in the
Admiral’s presence. A) she didn’t know, and b), it wasn’t her
primary concern. As harsh as it sounded, Cadet Harper's life wasn’t
the reason for Forest's dismay; it was the implant.

Forest
considered him silently, then shrugged, the move so tense her neck
muscles protruded. “We are doing everything we can,” she
managed.

Carson
just nodded, then he took another step back, and another, and
finally he snapped a salute. Well, he tried to snap a salute; what
he managed was more of a limp, sloppy wave, but at least Forest
returned it.

“Go
back to your apartment, and you will be contacted when we have any
information to share,” Forest assured him once more.

He
nodded at the Admiral. Then he turned, heading towards the doors.
Before he reached them, he paused. He twisted his head, considering
her from over his shoulder. “This all started on that planet, you
know, Remus 12,” despite himself, his voice shook as he repeated
the planet's name.

Forest
looked up sharply. “We can’t be sure of that.”

Carson
swallowed a bitter laugh. No, they couldn’t be sure of that, but
they could be relatively certain nonetheless. According to what he
knew of Cadet Harper, she had been nothing but the worst recruit in
1000 years before she'd ventured to that planet. Now she was quite
possibly the greatest secret the Academy had.

He
shook his head stiffly. “It all started on that planet,” he
repeated.

“Unless you have solid evidence to prove that, I suggest you
leave the theorising to the technicians.”

Though
the Admiral’s tone was aggressive, Carson didn’t react.

He
knew he was right. Dammit, he just knew he was right. Her dreams
hadn’t started until she'd returned from Remus 12, right? And she
certainly hadn’t harboured the ability to cause TI objects to go
nuts around her before her mission to that world. If she had,
Commander Sharpe would have said something about it.

No, he
knew it had started there.

Suddenly he stiffened.

He
forced his mind to go through everything he knew about that planet,
and as it did, it brought up one single fact and one single
memory.

Just
after Carson had seen Harper on his return to Earth, she had
apologised for losing his scanner.

She
had left it on the planet.

. . . .

Carson
looked up and he knew what he had to do. He took a single
determined step into the room, and his footfall echoed loud and
clear. “We have to go back to Remus 12. I am almost certain that
whatever happened to Cadet Harper can be tracked down to how she
received her injuries. The broken rib, the sprained ankle, the
concussion. Everybody assumed she’d fallen over, but I’m telling
you, whatever caused that probably caused what’s happening to her
implant,” his voice became unstable towards the end, but with a
stiff breath, he managed to finish his words.

Forest
looked at him, a strange mix of concern, disbelief, and anger
flashing through her gaze. “I told you, unless you have some
evidence,” she began.

He put
a hand up in a commanding, authoritative move that could easily get
him a reprimand. “I do. My scanner. Cadet Harper lost it on the
planet. Presumably, it's still there.”

Slowly
Forest narrowed her eyes. “That’s it?”

Carson
swallowed uncomfortably, but he pushed on nonetheless. “Those
scanners are hardy, and I’m damn sure it will still be there. If
we’re lucky, it will be able to tell us everything about what
happened to her.”

“And
if we are unlucky, it will tell us nothing, and we will have wasted
a trip to Remus 12,” Forest shot back immediately.

Carson
took a frustrated, ragged breath. Planting his hands on his hips,
he pushed his shoulders out until he felt the reassuring rigidity
travel up his back and stiffen his legs and jaw. “It’s worth a try.
You said yourself, we have no idea what is going on here. And if we
have no idea, we must be sure to gather information from every
possible source. You may not believe me that this all began on that
planet, but give me the chance to prove it. Remus 12 isn’t all that
far away using priority Coalition transport routes. I could be
there and back in a week.”