Fractured Mind Episode One (A Galactic Coalition Academy Series) (17 page)

“I have access to the Earth security net. I
can access the location of your communication device.”

She winced. “Christ, I'm an idiot. I
shouldn't have told that other Lieutenant Karax—” though her eyes
were squeezed closed, she suddenly opened them violently, “—wait,
what's going on here? Who was that guy? Why did he want to know
where I am?”

“Sarah, I need you to take a calming breath.
Listen to me. Something's happened at the Academy. I don't... I
have no idea how to begin to describe what's going on.”

Though Sarah couldn't be sure, she suddenly
felt as if the hologram of Karax locked his gaze on her left
shoulder.

Instinctively she brought a hand up and
pressed it into her skin, pushing her fingers beyond the stiff
fabric of her collar and clutching that familiar scarred region of
flesh.

His eyes really did bulge now. “Sarah, I'm
not gonna ask if you've been in Zhangjiajie for the last couple of
days – I've already been able to confirm that with the security
network. But have you experienced any strange symptoms? ... The
dreams you complain about, have you experienced anything out of the
ordinary?”

His question threw her. And it wasn't just
the question – it was the way he asked it. The Lieutenant Karax she
knew thought her dreams were nothing but a pathetic attempt to get
attention. And yet here he was, eyes as wide as moons, cheeks as
stiff as steel, stuttering over his words, true desperation flowing
from his throat like a crack in a dam.

She was still hunched forward, the
communication device held in one sweaty hand as her other fingers
still pried at the scar on her neck.

Her stomach started to curdle, started to
kick. It felt as if she'd swallowed a rock warrior and he was
trying to tear his way out of her gut wall.

“Sarah, it's extremely important that you
tell me everything. Have you had any strange experiences over the
past several days?”

She nodded her head, but then shook it. “I
don't understand what's going on. Why do you suddenly care about my
dreams?”

“Because, Cadet Sinclair,” his expression
cracked with terror,” approximately eight hours ago a hologram of
you tore through the Academy. It looked exactly like you. An exact
copy. It even had a point on its left shoulder that—”

Sarah's head began to spin faster and
faster. She dropped the communication unit, heard it clatter to the
floor.

She heard Lieutenant Karax scream her name a
few times, but it didn't matter. Blackness started to swirl in her
mind, descending like a thick blanket from above.

A second later she struck the floor with a
resounding thud. Unconscious.

...

Lieutenant Karax

“Shit,” he screamed into his communicator as
he saw Sarah fall.

Her communication device was still on, and
the video feed was large enough that he could see her crumpled form
right next to the communicator on the floor.

“Shit,” he screamed again, clutching a hand
into a fist and striking it against the wall beside him. With the
help of his implants, his knuckles sailed a good inch into the
concrete wall beside him.

While the implants could strengthen the
muscles and bone from his shoulder and into his arms, they did not
protect his flesh, and it tore and splattered with blood.

That didn't stop him from drawing his fist
back and striking the wall one more time, a dull thud echoing down
the deserted laneway.

He tried to get a handle on himself, but it
was impossible.

Things were spiraling out of control.

He'd been lucky that he'd been able to get
in contact with Sarah and that she'd kept her communicator with
her. But his luck was now over.

He stood there, cold as he considered what
she'd told him.

A fake Lieutenant Karax had contacted her
but five minutes before, and she'd told that fake Lieutenant Karax
her location.

“Shit,” he screamed again, lurching towards
the wall and punching it one final time. Pain sliced up his
knuckles, sinking deep into his wrist. He knew he had to stop
before he did himself some permanent damage, but there was nothing
that could stop the anger-spiked fear that kept charging through
his heart.

He'd managed to gain access to the Earth
security network based on his rank, but as for calling in the
cavalry, that was proving to be harder than he'd hoped. The
Corthanx Traders and whichever bastards were helping them had
agents on the outside of the Academy. The moment Karax had managed
to make it out of the secret tunnels, was the moment he'd been
chased.

He'd been on the run ever since.

Though he kept trying to call the
authorities, he had no idea who to trust.

The admiral herself had said that members
of the top brass were likely helping the Corthanx Traders. That
thought struck again like a blow to his jaw. He honestly heard it
reverberate through his mind like a broken bell.

He brought up his blood caked knuckles and
ran them down his stiff jaw, locking his teeth together and letting
the tension focus his mind. A second later he pushed off into
another measured jog.

He twisted his head around and locked it
over his shoulder, scanning his environment with wide, desperate
eyes.

There was only one thing he could do. He
had to get to Sarah before the Corthanx Traders did.

Karax still had no idea what they wanted
her for, but there was one thing for sure: Sarah was at the heart
of this, and unless he managed to reach her in time, the Corthanx
Traders would rip that heart out.

Sarah Sinclair

She woke slowly. It was hard to pull herself
up from the pall of unconsciousness. It stuck to her like hands
grasping at her throat and neck and chest.

Locking a shaking hand into the rough metal
floor, she pushed up. Blinking hard, she pressed a hand against her
face, rubbing her eyes back and forth, pulling her sweat-caked
fringe from her eyes.

The door to the deck outside was still open,
and she saw a few rays of dying sunshine push their way
through.

... She snapped forward, realizing what that
meant.

She'd been unconscious for more than half
the day.

“God, no, god, no,” she said as she grabbed
up her communicator in her shivering fingers. She tried to
manipulate the controls, her hands continually sliding off them as
more and more sweat built up along her palm. “Come on. Come on. Why
won't this thing work?” she spat through gritted teeth.

A second later she realized it couldn't get
a signal. That meant one of two things. Either the entire Earth
distributed communication network was down, or someone was jamming
her signal.

In a snap she remembered Lieutenant Karax's
last hasty words. They sliced through her mind like an electro
sword spinning from one ear to the other.

She brought a hand up and pressed it against
her temple, nails snagging against her skin, her eyes opening as
wide as they could.

She had to get out of here. Christ, she had
to get out of here. People were after her.

She pushed to her feet, even though her mind
still spun. She had to lock a hand on the wall beside her for
support.

She managed to keep on her feet. Barely.
There was this strange kind of pressure welling up in her neck,
spreading out from the left point on her shoulder. It felt like it
was digging through her, like it was some kind of insect that had
burrowed under the skin and was now tunneling down to her
heart.

Just as that horrible thought snapped
through her mind she clutched a hand to her chest, digging her
fingers so hard into the fabric of her tunic she almost ripped
holes through it. With panting breath and a practically convulsing
body she managed to walk her hand across the wall until she reached
the open door to the deck.

She ducked her head. She scanned the horizon
outside. Dusk was setting, hanging low over the mist-covered
mountains, pushing between those arm-like megaliths.

Though her communicator wouldn't work, she
still held it tightly in one hand.

Suddenly she jerked it up and stared at the
time. Christ, she'd been unconscious for almost 10 hours.

10 hours.

As that thought struck her, another wave of
nausea met it, and she stumbled into the wall. She had to press
both feet hard into the floor to ensure she didn't topple over.
After a few seconds of a truly woozy sick feeling slicing through
her mind, she crumpled one hand over her mouth, pressing the
communicator against her lips as she wrapped her other arm around
her stomach.

She doubled forward, and breathed and
breathed until the wave of nausea passed.

She let the communicator slip out of her
grip and tumble to the floor as she locked both hands on the wall
and walked herself towards the deck controls.

She reached them, and with shaking fingers
managed to close the deck door.

Though she'd only completed one shift with
Frank, he'd already told her about the numerous security features
of this floating bar. Because of the specific clientele it dealt
with, it required countermeasures against rowdy patrons, as Franck
had put it.

When things got too bad, you could kick your
patrons right out of your pod and seal it with the kind of
structural shields a Coalition heavy cruiser might use to protect
its engine core.

Reluctantly pulling one hand from the wall,
still keeping the other locked against the metal for support, she
managed to stagger forward.

Her brain... it wouldn't work. It wasn't
just that her mind kept spinning with fear. It was that she could
barely see. She could barely move.

It was like something was sapping her
energy, wheedling into her mind and taking every scrap of strength
she had left.

Eyes blinking, filling with tears, she
managed to make it over to the bar, even though she had to descend
to her hands and knees and crawl over half the length of the floor
to do it.

Locking a hand on the side of the bar, she
walked herself up it, then collapsed on top of it, panting as she
tried to gather the energy to move around the bar to the security
controls she knew were underneath it.

One second after one second, one staggering
step after one staggering step, she finally reached the door
controls. Clutching a hand to her mouth as another wave of nausea
washed over her, she pressed her forehead against the cool metal
underside of the bar and allowed herself to screw one eye closed.
With the other she watched her shaking fingers as they lurched over
the controls.

A few times she mistyped, and the lights
came on in full and the matter recalibrator started pumping out
cocktails.

Finally, finally she did it.

There was an electronic ping that echoed
around the room and a subtle vibration that ran through the floor
and up into her crumpled form.

Before she could allow herself to fall
unconscious again, she crumpled down onto her stomach and crawled
forward, practically sinking her fingernails into the metal to drag
her heavy body out from underneath the bar.

She made it onto the floor, and from there
managed to loll her head towards the left, her gaze flicking
up.

She saw the blue flickering structural
shields come into place around the windows and door.

And then Sarah Sinclair fell unconscious
once more. As she did, the strangest sensation stole through her
body. It felt like somebody was stretching her thin. As if she'd
been melted into liquid and spread like a puddle over that goddamn
sticky floor.

The sensation didn't last. The dreams
would.

...

Lieutenant Karax

He pushed himself into the furthest corner
of the utility cupboard, clutched the magnetic knife in one hand,
and clenched his teeth.

He had a single moment to look up into the
reflective metal wall beside him. His brow was bleeding, a massive
gash down his cheek, and his implants felt like they were vibrating
through his spine.

He'd underestimated the Corthanx Traders.
They had agents everywhere.

Just as Karax had been about to access the
interplanetary transport system, he'd been attacked. He'd barely
got out of there with his life. Which meant three things: the
Corthanx Traders were serious, had agents everywhere, and they had
full access to the Academy's biometric scanners.

Karax clenched his teeth and drove them so
hard together it felt like each one would break from his jaw and
fall to his feet.

He stared at his image in the reflective
panel.

He pulled down his collar to reveal his left
shoulder.

He clenched the magnetic knife in one sweaty
hand as he squeezed his eyes closed.

A second later he opened them and plunged
the knife in. He clenched his teeth together and stifled the scream
that wanted to tear from his lips.

He kept gouging at his skin, digging deeper
and deeper until the magnetic knife locked onto something.

With one last, muffled bellow, he yanked the
knife out. Something clicked onto the end. That something was his
identity chip. A locater that could be used to find him anywhere on
Earth and anywhere with access to Coalition standard scanners.

Why he hadn't thought to take it out
earlier, he didn't know. But now he had no option.

If he wanted to get to Sarah, he had to
start taking this seriously.

Blood spilled down his arm, running over his
elbow and splashing against his boots.

He pressed his injured shoulder into the
wall, closing his eyes as he stole a few calming breaths. He drove
the inhalations deep into his stomach as he arched his neck and
rolled his head back and forth against the wall, somehow hoping the
methodical movement would dull the pain tearing through his arm and
deep into his chest.