Authors: Jasper Scott
“Well? Come on in! Make yourselves at home!”
* * *
Once they were all inside, Ferrel climbed the ladder to the hatch and locked it behind them, just in case.
Inside, the cruiser was all functionality and no polish. Low-ceilinged corridors, painted a faded gray with peeling blue trim. There were doors, numbered bulkheads, and an occasional sign with arrows along the tops of those bulkheads. In some unspoken agreement, which Jilly considered was just as likely owing to their new telepathic sense as to their common horror at what was happening to the galaxy as they knew it, they all followed the signs to the medbay. The lights came on for them as they moved through the ship, lighting the corridors a dusty yellow.
The medbay was small, with only 8 beds, but more than functional. Equipment lined the sides of the room, some of which was on rollers that magnetically locked to the floor. Jilly stopped in the middle of the room, and they stopped behind her, waiting. She turned in slow circles, examining all the equipment, looking for inspiration. How best to treat a nano virus? According to the doctor they'd seen, their bodies' immune systems weren't fighting it. But after he'd locked them in stasis chambers, she wasn't sure if she could trust anything he'd told them. Her own observations, however, led to the same conclusion. After all, the virus couldn't have become an epidemic if people were fighting it off, or becoming immune. So, regular immune boosters and anti-virals wouldn't help. In order to slip past the immune system, the virus would have to masquerade as native tissue. If she could figure out how it was doing that, and remove the camouflage, maybe
.
.
.
.
Jilly shook her head, trying not to think about the only real option.
“I know how we can do it,” Ferrel said, answering her thoughts.
Jilly turned to him, eyes blinking rapidly. Then she remembered:
telepathy
. “Yes?”
“It's a nano virus, right?”
“Right.”
“So, basically, lots of little machines.”
Jilly nodded.
“Why don't we hit ourselves with an EMP?”
Jilly frowned. “That could be very dangerous, considering how the virus has modified our physiology. We don't know how thorougly it's integrated with our tissues. Even if it hasn't integrated, only modified existing cells, then the dead nanocules might still represent a threat. They could pile up and form a blood clot, for example.”
“We could use electromagnets to draw them out.”
“
If
they're made up of magnetic alloys.”
“I'm sorry, an EMP? Electromagnetic Pulse?” They both turned to see Gallian shaking his head, eyes downcast and expression rueful. “That's not a good idea. Gallian looked up, his eyes wide with earnest appeal. “The virus doesn't kill. It only changes. We'll live on, in new and improved form. I should know. Without the virus I'd still be babbling in my quarters, trying to unravel the mysteries of utensils.” He shook his head and spread his hands. “Can we honestly say we've been changed for the worse? Whoever created the virus obviously created it with a purpose. Maybe we should let it fulfill that purpose.”
Gallian's suggestion was met by a unified front of frowns and conspicuously traded glances. Jilly was the first to voice their concerns. “You saw the bodies in the precinct. They killed each other, ate one another, tore each other apart, blinded by psychotic rage.”
Gallian was shaking his head. “You don't know that. They
might
have killed each other in anger, but they were just trying to escape. Given how long most of them had been confined in the med center, can you blame them for being angry? And if you hadn't eaten for weeks you might be tempted toward cannibalism yourself.”
Jilly's frown deepened. “After two weeks? No. The natural
human
aversion is too strong to resort to cannibalism after only two weeks of scarcity. This was something else. It was animalistic and irrational. It was pure, unbridled hatred for their fellow men.”
Gallian smiled disconcertingly, a smile of pity, reserved for the ignorant. “I've felt it, too
—
the rage, but the anger
is
managable. It doesn't control us, we can control it.”
“Tell that to the corpses we saw,” Jilly said. “If you want to stay infected, fine, you can leave and join your infected buddies in what's left of the city, but we're going to attempt to find a cure with every ounce of humanity we have left.”
Gallian's smile faded to a scowl, and for a moment his red eyes glittered menacingly. Kieran could feel the tension in the air, and his hand drifted closer to the butt of his pistol.
Then Gallian's eyes flicked quickly to each of them, ending with Kieran. Abruptly, his scowl lifted, and a flicker of his smile returned. “Very well. I will do what I can to help you, but I cannot promise I'll be the first to volunteer for whatever risky cure you devise.”
Jilly nodded. “Good enough. Since you're so willing to help, I want you to search the ship with Ferrel, and help him retrieve whatever he needs to make an EMP.”
Ferrel turned to her with eybrows raised. “I thought you said
—
”
“That it's risky? Yes, but unfortunately it's a risk we'll have to take.”
Ferrel nodded and started backing toward the entrance of the medbay. He gestured for Gallian to follow him, and Gallian reluctantly lurched into motion.
As he was turning to leave, Jilly caught Ferrel's eye and thought:
watch your back.
Ferrel gave a slight nod, and when he reached the door, he stepped aside to wave a hand in front of the door controls, letting Gallian go through first.
Chapter 39
K
ieran watched the medbay door close behind Ferrel and Gallian, then turned to Jilly, his eyebrows raised expectantly. She could read his thoughts, but from the firm set to her lips, he knew she wouldn't answer them without a little prodding:
“So? Now that we're alone, what was that idea you had?”
Jilly started toward one corner of the room, where a set of floor to ceiling cabinets were arrayed against the wall. He followed her to the cabinets, and watched as she methodically opened each and every one, spending a few seconds studying the contents of each before moving on to the next. Upon opening the second last cabinet, she reached in and withdrew something. At last she sighed and turned to him with a half dozen needles in her hand.
“Unfortunately, Ferrel stole my idea. I'm not sure if he was reading my mind, or if we're both just that smart. I was also planning to create an EMP device.”
Kieran frowned. “Why did you argue with Ferrel then? Seemed like you took some convincing.”
“Because I was hoping I'd think of some other way, and I didn't want to tip our hand to Gallian so soon.”
“But?”
Jilly walked over to the nearest patient gurney and set the needles down. She shrugged. “But, we have to risk it, and Gallian had to know sooner or later.”
Kieran cast a backward glance to the door of the medbay. “He seemed
—
well, not
eager
—
to help, but at least he was willing.”
Jilly planted fists on her hips, and regarded Kieran archly. “He tried to convince us not to do it. Not because he thought we might kill ourselves in the process. His main reason was that we could be throwing away a good thing. Like the virus might be a blessing in disguise. No, he wants to keep the virus.”
Kieran's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Then why did he offer to help us find a cure?”
Jilly shrugged. “So that we didn't try to get rid of him. So that he could find a better time to sabotoge our plans. To kill us all and steal this ship.”
“You're being paranoid.”
Jilly cocked her head to one side. “Am I? Maybe you're just too trusting. Let's review the history: Brathus and Dimmi bretrayed you after you did a job for some questionable officers of UBER and ended up unleashing a plague which could be the end of the human race as we know it. Lystra Deswin betrayed us; Dimmi tried to kill you; you and Dimmi tried to kill us
.
.
.
.
”
“It seems like no one can be trusted anymore, so why trust a complete stranger, who appears mysteriously, out of nowhere, with a story that you can fly a leviathan through?”
Kieran pursed his lips, then ran a hand through his greasy blonde hair. “You have a point. So if you don't trust him, why did you send him alone with Ferrel? Don't you think that's asking for trouble?”
“Yes. But Ferrel is a smart kid, and I warned him. And besides, if I'm wrong, it's a chance for Gallian to prove himself.”
“Jilly! They're both armed. They could kill each other, or worse, Gallian could get the drop on Ferrel and kill him. If Gallian's planning to betray us, it's not hard to imagine a scenario where he gets it right.”
Jilly gave a slow, sly smile and shook her head. “That's where you're wrong. Only Ferrel is armed. I gave Gallian a defective weapon.”
* * *
Ferrel and Gallian came to a T-junction. Gallian turned and asked, “Which way?”
Reading the sign posted on the corridor wall ahead of them, Ferrel considered the matter briefly, then pointed left. They started off in the indicated direction together, this time walking side by side. Silence ticked by as their footsteps echoed from the dusty gray walls.
Eventually, Gallian sent Ferrel a wry look and said, “I know you don't trust me.”
Ferrel answered that look by scrupulously avoiding it. “What gives you that idea?”
“I can read your thoughts. It's okay, I don't blame you.”
“Yeah
.
.
.
look, man, the thing is, we just don't know that much about you yet.”
“I don't know that much about me either. Dementia remember?”
“I thought you said the virus
—
”
“Can't fix what isn't there. My brain is fine now, but some of my memories are lost for good. Still, what would you like to know?”
Ferrel shrugged, and was about to ask a meaningless question about the man's past, which Gallian may or may not have been able to answer, when he saw that they'd reached the place he was looking for. “Perfect.”
“What?” Gallian stopped and turned to see Ferrel pass his hand in front of a door control panel. The door slid aside with a
swish
, revealing a narrow corridor with a ladder at the end.
Ferrel started down the corridor, and Gallian followed until Ferrel stopped to pop open an access panel in the side of the corridor.
Ferrel frowned into the mess of conduits and wires. After a moment, he reached in, and with a brief twist, his hand emerged holding a fat cylinder, trailing thick conduits from both ends.
Ferrel sent him a quick grin. “Why make an EMP when you can salvage one instead?”
Gallian matched his grin and jerked his chin toward the cylinder. “That's an EMP?”
“You bet your cula it is.”
“How did you know where to find it?”
“Most ships this size, particularly patroller ships, have EMP cannons, so they can disable ships and not just destroy them. I just picked the first gunwell and hoped for the best. All we have to do is remove this cylinder and hook it up to an appropriate power source. We'll have our very own portable EMP cannon in less than an hour.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“And it will pose no danger to us?”
Ferrel began to shake his head, then hesitated. “Well, I don't know what will happen to us when we disable the virus, but you could shoot yourself with an EMP all day without any ill effects. We just have to watch electronic devices around the cannon. I'm not sure what the blast radius is, but I suspect it's pretty big. We could disable our own ship if we're not careful.”
Gallian frowned. “How would you recommend we test it then?”
Ferrel was already absorbed in the business of extracting the EMP generator. “On the roof,” he said absently. Without proper tools, removing the EMP generator wasn't going to be easy. He should have tried to locate a maintenance locker first, but that would just take more time, and he was going to have to splice it into a portable power source anyway, so he decided to save time and just rip the EMP out. The conduits leading to and from the device strained and sparked, but eventually they broke. The gun turret would be more difficult to repair later, but it wasn't as though they had anyone to man it anyway.
Ferrel turned to Gallian, generator in hand. “Okay, let's
—
” Ferrel's eyes widened. Gallian was grinning broadly, and his rifle was no longer safely strapped to his back. “What the kefick? Look, Gallian
—
”