A Taste Of Despair (The Humal Sequence) (11 page)

“You!” Rames ordered, pointing at Veltin. “You’re a pilot, right? Get in that chair!”

Veltin’s grin was huge. Puckett looked irritated, until Rames ordered him into the navigation position with a comment about Skip Drives.

“Skip Drive? This ship has a Skip Drive?” Puckett and Veltin both exchanged child-like grins of delight then, rivalry forgotten, both hurried to take their positions.

“You got a plan to get us out of here?” Klane asked the captain.

Rames snorted. “Not much beyond run-like-hell.” He admitted.

“What about Hamilton?” Jones inquired.

Klane and Rames exchanged glances. Jones understood the look.

Klane sighed. “He knows the rendezvous coordinates. He’ll have to make his own way there.”

Jones looked skeptical. “Without a ship?”

Rames and Klane exchanged another glance. This time it was one of tolerant amusement.

“Don’t worry about Hamilton.” Klane told him. “He’s at his best when he has no hope at all of success.”

“Captain?” It was Grimes, who had taken up position with Corporal Malik at the comms console.

“What is it?”

“Looks like that destroyer, the
Triton
, has undocked and is moving so as to try and block us from a run towards deep space.” Grimes stated.

Rames shrugged. “Space is big, we’ll go the other way. One ship, even one with a Skip Drive, can’t block us.”

Grimes nodded. “I know, but the
Shiva
, the cruiser, is beginning to undock. She carries a dozen assault craft, all equipped with Skips. They launch those and we’ll have a harder time of making a getaway. Plus, the
Shiva
herself is equipped with EMP torps. Big ones. Mark 15’s. They’ll put our systems out quicker than a candle in a hurricane.”

“Damn!” Rames muttered. “We need to go. Now!”

“My thoughts exactly.” Grimes agreed.

Rames thought a moment longer. “Right, Grimes, get us battened down for departure! Major Harvan! You and your men have done an excellent job so far. I need you to get your men ready to repel boarders, in case it all goes pear-shaped.”

Both men nodded and went into action.

“Klane? I don’t suppose you have any experience with ship offensive and defensive equipment?” Rames asked.

“Some.” She admitted. “But I’m no expert.”

Rames nodded towards the tactical console. “I need someone to man the weapons and shields. I suspect we’ll have a rough time of it and I seem to be short of certain crew.”

Klane nodded and hurried over to the console.

“Anderton!” Rames bellowed, looking around for his medical officer. There was no sign of him. Rames jabbed the comms button. “Anderton?”

“Aye sir?” The reply came promptly.

“Get yourself to the infirmary. We may end up with injuries out of this!”

“Already there sir. I’ve got their medic, Charlton with me. We’ll cope with whatever you send our way.”

Rames smiled. Half his crew might be missing, but those that remained knew their jobs well.

“Ah, sir?” Grimes said from comms.

Rames nodded. “Now what?”

“Looks like that alien’s record amendment has finally gone through. We’re all being tagged as terrorists now.”

“Well, we knew that would happen.” Rames said. “That’s why we’re running.”

Grimes nodded. “There’s more. Now that we’re ‘known terrorists’ all units are being ordered to destroy us if we try to flee. Before it was ‘apprehend’, now it’s ‘kill’.”

Glances were exchanged on the bridge.

“I’m beginning to think I’d be better off with Hamilton.” Jones muttered.

*****

The source of the yelling and swearing was an office in the administration section of the medical center. As they approached, the large glass walls of the sumptuous office gave them an unimpeded view of proceedings within.

A single woman was seemingly holding off single-handedly a small group of guards and orderlies. At the far end of the office was a large picture window that looked out over the planet that Tantalus Station orbited, Timoran. The woman held a plasma cutter against the steelglass panel, threatening to ignite the beam and cut a hole in the panel.

For a moment, Hamilton was at a loss to understand what a plasma cutter, essentially an industrial tool, was doing in a medical center. Then he recalled that Tantalus Station had become a major colonial springboard for forays into the Rim Territories. The Tantalus medical center had to cope with all eventualities. No doubt they had an emergency response team ready to ship out at a moment’s notice should some calamity occur in the nearby colonies. That team had to have all sorts of rescue equipment, including cutting equipment to gain access to trapped personnel. The plasma cutter was, with a moment’s thought, not so out of place after all.

How the woman had gotten hold of it was also not such a surprise, considering who she was.

Lewis
. Hamilton thought disparagingly.
And oh look! She’s threatening to kill people!

On the other hand, he realized as he and Johnson moved closer and he got a better look at her, perhaps she had good reason to threaten death to these people.

Lewis had never been what Hamilton would have considered attractive. Her features had always been plain, made nastier by her manner and habit of sneering at everyone else. But it appeared the medics of Tantalus Station had not treated her kindly.

Her entire head had been shaved completely. In place of the hair, she had a considerable number of gold-plated, circular sockets grafted into her skull. Dozens of them. Normal mental health procedures did not call for such brutal treatment. But Hamilton knew what sort of procedure did.

Psi testing.

At some point after they had reached the medical quarantine section, someone must have done a routine scan on her and detected the ability. Up until her encounter with Walsh, it had been latent, which would have been noted in her records. Latent Psions were no threat, since nobody knew how to trigger the dormant power. They received regular tests, to ensure its continued latency throughout their lives. Given that her last test had been over five years previously it was no wonder that someone had decided to redo the test. However, the alien encounter had triggered her ability in some manner and that had clearly shown up in her scan.

Standard Imperial procedure whenever an active Psion was detected called for vigorous testing to ascertain whether the individual was a danger to society. All rights of the individual were temporarily suspended so that society could be protected. Given that Lewis was already a danger to the public as far as Hamilton was concerned, it was not unreasonable to assume she would be even more so with psionic abilities. Her instability was well-known to him and the others and, like the latent psion ability, was certainly also noted on her medical files. It was no wonder the medical staff had taken no chances.

Even so, looking at her, Hamilton found it hard not to feel a little sorry for her.

LeGault had once told him that she hadn’t been so bad until the initial encounter with the alien that had taken over Walsh. That alien, whom they now referred to as Walsh, had first tried to possess Lewis. It was likely that her psionic talent was responsible for rebuffing that attack and forcing the alien to possess Walsh instead. But in doing so, it had become an active talent, no longer dormant. And the whole episode had, according to LeGault, made her even crazier. Maybe, on some level, she understood what had nearly happened to her. Maybe Walsh’s alien had damaged her brain somehow. Either way, she had gone a little nuts.

That increased instability had led to her challenging Hamilton. She hadn’t put up much of a fight, but the resentment towards him had lingered. Eventually she had abandoned him to die on an ancient Humal space station.

And now here I am
. Hamilton thought wryly.
On another station, with the ability to simply turn away and abandon her to her fate.

The irony was so delicious that he savored it for a few moments, standing in the office doorway with Johnson as he decided what to do.

“Isn’t that…” Johnson leaned over and whispered to him.

He nodded. “Yep. Loopy Lewis.”

“What the hell have they done to her?”

“Psi testing.” He stated. “It’s not voluntary.”

“The dreams...” Johnson murmured, lost in thought.

Hamilton nodded again. During one jump into hyperspace, Lewis had sub-consciously broadcast her own nightmares of events on the world that Walsh had been marooned on. Both Hamilton and Johnson had been recipients of that broadcast, much to their discomfort.

“Are we…” Johnson turned to him, asking the question that was rolling around in his head.

Are we going to leave her here?

Hamilton murmured. “I’m thinking about it.”

In truth he was weighing up the consequences of saving or damning Lewis. So far, the balance was about even.

Abruptly, having had enough of his thinking, Johnson took several steps forward and addressed the group of guards and orderlies.

Alright! We’ll handle this! The rest of you clear out and seal this section! We’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

The group turned and regarded her warily, taking in the medical suit and darkened faceplate. One appeared to be about to speak, but Johnson barked over him.

“Out I said! Don’t make me repeat it again! Or are you all so eager to be sucked out into space?”

Hamilton was impressed by her tone and bearing as she performed the ruse. The men still looked uncertain, but they hastily left. None of them had been wearing space-proof clothing. A hole in the steelglass panel would likely mean death for all of them. They seemed happy to hand the situation over to space-suit clad medics, even if they had no idea who they were.

“Nicely done!” Hamilton commented as he stepped up beside Johnson.

“Thanks!” She smiled.

“It’s ‘blown out’ though, not ‘sucked out’.” He corrected.

She shrugged. “Blown, sucked, you end up dead either way, don’t you?”

He grinned. “That you do!”

The pair turned their attention to Lewis.

“You two can fuck off as well!” She snarled. “I don’t care if I die and you live! I won’t let you do any more shit to me!”

“Relax Lewis. It’s us.” Hamilton told her, adjusting his faceplate to transparency.

Lewis’ eyes narrowed. “Great! Just what I need! Rescue by you!”

Hamilton jerked a thumb at Johnson. “Don’t thank me, thank her. It was her idea.”

Johnson lightened her faceplate and smiled brightly at Lewis.

Lewis shook her head wearily and lowered the cutter. “Great! Saved by the ice maiden, then! Either way it’s been a shitty few days.”

“Yeah, well, the saving may only be temporary, unless we can figure a way off this station.” Hamilton observed.

“You don’t have a plan to get away?” Lewis scowled. “Where are the others?”

“By now, long gone.” Hamilton told her. “We’re well and truly on our own.”