The Ninth (42 page)

“The gatherings themselves are a waste of time,” Seventh said coldly.  “I don’t see why we soil ourselves with direct contact.  Can’t we use long-range communication?  Surely the risk isn’t . . .”

“Silence!” Third shouted over Seventh.

Dead silence fell on the ice world again.  While arguing was common, never before had a speaker been directly interrupted.  The seven grew anxious as Third remained silent.  While each member of the Forged was equal in standing, they knew Third had the largest power base.  He also oversaw the most sensitive of the sensor arrays; he prided himself greatly in that.  If something disturbed Third sufficiently to break protocol, it had to be a major event.

“We must act against the Commonwealth now.”  Third sounded deeply troubled.

“Third’s stand has changed? Why?” First asked.

“Even the warmonger wants more details.  Third, what have you detected?” Sixth asked.

“Shard energy – from within Commonwealth space,” Third answered.

“That’s impossible, isn’t it?” Eight asked.

“As much as I hate to admit it, there is no doubting Third’s array.”  Second sounded troubled.  “If the Commonwealth has an active Shard, who knows what they could do with it.”

“Or what they could learn from it,” Sixth mused.

“The time for preparations is over.  It is time to put our plans into action,” Third said as he broke transmission.

Without another word between them, the gathering ended.  The stalemate had ended.  The Forged departed with a new purpose.  Whatever squabbles they had over the years were meaningless now.  The task at hand was now clear to them all; the Commonwealth would fall.

“Looks like we’ve got a technical malfunction,” the announcer said as the monitors went dark.  “Maintenance informs me they are still getting data from the trial.  Nothing more than a damaged feed.  I’m sure we’ll get an image back shortly.  They really know how to kill the mood, don’t they?”

“Did I just see what I thought I saw?” Nathan asked in a hushed voice.

“Let’s not wait to find out,” Jack said as he got up from his chair.

The two discreetly rushed out of the observation room.  Every trooper was mesmerized by the blank monitors as the announcer tried to keep their interest.

“Now that’s a shame.  The FF has done it, but we missed it.  The FF has just reached the six hundred mark!  The SF takes second with a score of five hundred thirty-six.  Turns out Brent’s use of the frag grenade boosted the SF’s score!  Wouldn’t that have been a kick to the head if Brent had won the exam for the SF by technicality?  The RG follows with a score of three hundred eighty-two.  The RG is firmly placed in third place as the TA has the truly awe-inspiring score of eighteen!  I’d hate to be those three poor troopers the TA managed . . . .”  The announcer’s voice cut out as the door sealed behind Nathan.

Security personnel were already guarding the access points to the trial.  The divisions were being escorted out, their expressions uncertain.  A few protested, but most went along quietly with the heavily armed guards clearing the room.  A guard put up a warning hand and blocked Jack’s path.

“I’m sorry sir; you can’t go in there,” the guard said timidly.

“On whose authority?” Nathan asked, clearly annoyed.

“Mine, Administer.”  Dr. Benedict stepped out of the secured room.

As the doctor approached the Weaver and the Administer, several medics rushed out of the room pulling a stretcher between them.  Following closely was a second group of medics with another stretcher.

“Two?  I only saw the girl get hit.  What happened?” Nathan asked.

“You tell me,” Dr. Benedict said, clearly irritated.  “I lost the feed just like everyone else.”

“A precaution,” Jack said.  “I stationed a trooper down in maintenance.  He had standing orders to sever the visual feed if anything . . . unexpected took place.”

“So then
you
tell me what happened.  Or are you going to tell me how to treat them, too?”

“Now doctor . . .” Nathan said.

“I wish I could,” Jack said.  “I’m as much in the dark as you are.  When the trooper severed the feed he severed it for everyone.  Right now, whatever happened is sitting in the mainframe, heavily encoded.  It’ll take a while before we get more information.  In the mean time, please take care of the wounded discretely.”  Jack nodded to the doctor and headed down the corridor.

“Where are we going?” Nathan asked, as he kept up.

“I’m headed to Maintenance; I want that data in our hands immediately.  You are staying here.”

“I am?  Why?”

“You are going to organize the security personnel.  Round up every trooper who was in that trial.  Someone was packing some serious hardware.”

“So you did see it.  Blood splatter.  To think someone had a weapon capable of penetrating armor right under our noses.  Why the girl, I wonder.”

“I doubt the shooter was aiming at her.”

“That means . . . Brent?  Guess our mystery hacker moonlights as an assassin.”

“My guess is after watching Brent’s fight in the mess hall, whoever was paying our infiltrator wanted Brent taken out permanently.”

“Katrina C. Salai,” Nathan announced with pride.

“Who?” Jack asked.

“Our infiltrator.  Professional mercenary.  With a last name like that I can’t believe we didn’t find her sooner.”

“How’d she get on the station?”

“A couple months ago we got some new maintenance workers; she slipped in among them.  Hacked the mainframe and forged a complete history.  Never would have found her if she hadn’t pulled the trigger.”

“So you found the weapon, I take it.”

“We did.  It was anything but standard issue.  Had parts from over a dozen different models.  Security tells me it’s illegal on
multiple
levels.  We could lock her away forever just for carrying it.”

“Custom job?  So she’s a master hacker, assassin,
and
weapon aficionado?  Who hired her?”

“No idea.  She hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with information.  However, we know one thing; she didn’t make the weapon.”

“Oh?”

“The weapon was in bad shape.  Seems Miss Salai knows as much about firearms as I do.  She couldn’t properly maintain one, let alone construct one.  I’m told it was a masterpiece.  If it had been in perfect working order, it wouldn’t have just penetrated armor, it would have gone clean through – maybe even damaged the hull of the station.  Only a handful of people in the entire Commonwealth with the talent to make something like it, and none of them would have access to half the parts.”

“Great, so it was a pirate job.”

“The weapon? Probably.  But the rest was too costly.  What Miss Salai charges for a simple job would bankrupt even the largest of the pirate guilds.  She’s been on the station for months.  Whoever is paying for her services has
deep
pockets.”

“So one of the corporations is backing her?  Won’t get a peep out of her.  She knows they’ll send a proper assassin after her if she talks.  One that won’t miss.”

“That’s what I thought.  Messy business all this cloak and dagger.  How are things on your end?”

“Slowly,” Jack sighed.

“Well, that sounds encouraging.”

“It took hours, but we got it decoded.  After the feed cut out for all of us, it got worse.  The girl was wounded beyond than I had imaged.”

“How bad was it?”

“Fatal.  Brent was giving it his all, but it was pointless.  The girl was losing a tremendous amount of blood.  Another sniper hit him, disabling him.  After that the feed degrades to the point we can’t make out any details.”

“Don’t tell me it’s been tampered with?  One spy hiding in my academy was enough.”

“Relax.  The feed was clean – just damaged.  I crosschecked the internal scanners.  At the same time the feed degrades, a massive build up of energy was detected in the exam room.  I’ve got a group working on the feed trying to clean it up, but I doubt they’ll be able to salvage much more.”

“What kind of energy?”

“Apparently Classified.  When I tried to get an analysis, the mainframe rejected my request.”

“Did you try to override it?”

“Of course; used every code I knew.  Even the one given to me by the Lazarus commission couldn’t get the mainframe to comply.”

“Why can’t these things ever be easy?  Once, just once, I want to hear someone say ‘We’ve got the answer, all of it, no more mystery, no complications.’”

Jack chuckled to himself as he started down a corridor.

“Where to now?  Off to check on the feed?” Nathan asked.

“Medical.  I haven’t heard a peep out of our fair doctor,” Jack answered.

“I’ll leave that to you.  Never been good around dead bodies.  I wonder how the boy is taking the death of his friend.”

Jack slowly made his way to Medical.  He racked his brain trying to figure out how things would proceed.  With the girl dead, Brent had lost the only person he could sense.  The boy had lost far more than just a friend, and Jack had lost the one small hope they had.  With the girl there was a chance they could understand Brent’s abilities, maybe even find a way to limit them.  Without her they were back at square one.  Medical was eerily calm.  Security personnel guarded every entrance and exit.  Doctor Benedict quickly appeared and guided Jack into the bowels of Medical.  She took him to a large room with detailed monitors on three walls.  Tapping a console, the fourth wall turned transparent.  In the next room was a figure hunched over a still body.

“How is Brent taking the loss of his friend?” Jack asked hesitantly.

“What are you taking about?”  Dr. Benedict blinked in surprise.

“The girl.  She was fatally wounded in the trial.”

“I think you’ve got your facts mixed up.  The girl is fine.  Brent’s the one in critical condition.”

“Impossible!”

Jack studied the scene carefully.  He had naturally assumed Brent was leaning over the body of his fallen comrade; it was the other way around.  Brent was the one perfectly still in the bed; several machines hooked up to him monitored his vitals carefully.  The girl sitting at the edge of the bed was watching over him, stricken with despair and guilt.

“The others told me the girl was the one in trouble, too.  I thought as much myself until I got to the trial,” Doctor Benedict said.

“The others, what others?” Jack asked.

“Four troopers.  One traumatized medic, one covered in his own vomit, and the two leaders of the SF.”

“What did they say they saw?”

“Not much, really; they had all passed out.  Told me the girl was in bad shape, and that the boy had been paralyzed while trying to help her.”

“Nothing more?”

“The medic was rambling about seeing a bight green light before he passed out; the others don’t remember much past Brent getting paralyzed.”

“A green light . . . so how are they?”

“They are all at a loss, but they’ll recover.  The odd part is the girl.  Cassandra is in perfect health.  I mean
perfect
.  I had her in here not too long ago for one of her gravity treatments, gave her a full check up.  Nothing major, just the normal wear and tear of life.  When she got in here today I naturally ran the full gamut of tests.”

“And?”

“It was like she had just been born, all the wear and tear - gone.  Look at this.”  Dr. Benedict pulled up a Medical scan on a monitor.

“I don’t see anything.”

“This is from today.  Notice the ulna.”

“Okay.”

“Now this one is a scan from her last check up.”  Dr. Benedict pulled up a second scan.

“There’s a break,” Jack said quickly.  “It’s not big, but it’s there.”

“When Cassandra was little, one of the family’s animals went on a rampage and she was hurt.  Broke her arm.  That is what’s left of the old wound.”

“And it’s completely healed.”

“It was healed a long time ago.  Now it’s as if it
never
happened.  It’s the same story throughout her body.”

“What about her chest?  I’ve recovered the feed; the blast penetrated her armor.”

“Now there I can agree with you.  When we brought her here there was a large hole in the armor.  However, her skin was in perfect condition where the charge should have hit.”

“What about Brent?  You said he’s in bad shape?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it before.  He’s in some kind of coma right now.  No reaction to any stimulus.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“I didn’t get to the odd part.  He has lost one third of his body mass.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s gone.  No scars, no internal bleeding, not even a scratch.  Every organ is where it should be, nothing is missing, and everything seems to be in working order.  However, bone density, muscle mass – his total weight is down by approximately one third of its original value.”

“Could it be some kind of disease?”

“Nothing I’ve heard of works like this.  There is no viral attack, his white blood cell count is normal, and he doesn’t even have a fever.  As far as every instrument here is concerned, he is in perfect health.  He should be walking around as if nothing happened.”

“Any theories?”

“I’m stumped.  I had the trial room swept three times.  The top of the tower and even the first few steps leading down are caked in blood.  All of it tested to be Cassandra’s.  There was no evidence that Brent was injured in any way.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“How did . . . ah yes.  Forgot you were a Weaver.”

“I don’t mean to pry, but this is important.”

“I suppose I have to agree with you.  Never thought I’d live to see the day I agreed with a Weaver.  I don’t think Brent’s condition was a result of hostile action.”

“I’m listening.”

“What if, somehow, Brent sacrificed himself to save the girl?”

“Is that possible?”

“Not even remotely.  But the facts are the facts.  I’ve got the four eyewitnesses and your own opinion that Cassandra should be dead.  However, as you can see I’ve got one perfectly healthy girl and one boy who has somehow lost one third of his total mass.”

“I see.  I trust you’ll keep this to yourself.”

“Who would I tell?  Anyone with even basic medical training would think I’d lost my mind.  If I told anyone it would be the end of my career.”

“Any change in his condition?” Davis asked.

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you were a worried parent,” Doctor Benedict said distractedly.  “Over the past two weeks you’ve been in here every day checking up on him.”

“Eleven.  It’s only been eleven days.  You should know that not all Weavers are monsters.”

“I wish that were true.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“When I have to choose between your words and my experience, my experience wins hands down.  I’ve had at least seventy troopers in here over the last three days complaining of being attacked by a Weaver.”

“Why wasn’t I informed?”

“You didn’t ask.  I’m not obligated to run you through
every
detail of my day.”

“How bad were the attacks?”

“Nothing serious.  Most of the troopers were just scared.  They were perfectly fine, after I calmed them down.”

“Would you mind informing me if the attacks grow more serious?”

“A Weaver asking politely?  I’ll give you points for trying to win my approval, although you could be more subtle about it.”

“Brent, how is he doing?”

“Oh, I struck a nerve!”  Doctor Benedict smiled in triumph.  “I’ve been giving him additional nutrients, hoping he’d regain his lost tissue and whatnot.  It’s actually working.  Slowly, as you know, but there is progress.  He is back to about seventy-nine percent of his original.”

“A percent a day.  Do you think he’ll awake when he gets back to one hundred percent?”

“Like I told you yesterday, and the day before, no guarantees.  There was no medical explanation for the coma in the first place.  The fact we’re entertaining this insane theory in the first place is beyond belief.”

“I get the distinct impression you don’t like me here.”

“I don’t mind the company; it’s answering the same questions over and over that wears thin.  At least the girl doesn’t interrogate me.”

“How long has she been at his side?”

“The better question is if she ever leaves it.  If I didn’t order her to leave, she probably wouldn’t even leave to eat.  Although I shouldn’t complain, she is the only company he is allowed.”

As the doctor and the Weaver discussed Brent’s condition, Cassandra sat at his side, ignorant she was being watched.  As she watched over his still body, her thoughts churned within.  She couldn’t clearly remember what had happened.  She had been hit and there was tremendous pain.  She remembered Brent leaning over her.  His voice sounded distant.  Everything began to fade; she remembered losing sensation.  It was like a numbing cold was crawling over her body.  After that it got fuzzy.  Someone calling her, a warm sensation, it was jumbled.

The next thing she knew, she was resting on the tower top.  She had felt her suit, finding a large hole in the chest.  Her first thought had been one of embarrassment at the thought of being exposed.  When she looked around, she realized everyone was unconscious.  Brent was laying nearby, his pupils tightly constricted.  She tried to wake him but he remained still.

At that point the medics descended on them and rushed them off to Medical.  Doctor Benedict had explained to her that he was in a coma; she wasn’t sure if he would ever wake up again.  Cassandra knew it was her fault.  She sat by him hour after hour.  She would talk to him, hold his hand, anything she could think of that might bring him back.  It never did, though.  She tried to fight off desperation, but it gnawed at her.  The guilt that she was responsible for his condition was hard to bear.

“Why did you have to save me?” Cassandra asked.