PROSPECTING SHIPS LIKE Polestar Corp’s Galathea ran to a tight timetable. To provide an acceptable return on the company’s investment, the crew had to locate and claim at least ten resource-rich planets uninhabited by intelligent life per mission, on average. After that—or maybe before if they stumbled across a planet loaded with a highly valuable substance such as mythrin, base ingredient of blissful, stupor-inducing mythranil—the crew would start to stack up bonuses. Bonuses were the only thing that made it worth enduring the nearly endless boredom and starvation wages of space prospecting.
The ship’s master took the lion’s share, of course, and the rest of the crew’s dividends were portioned out according to rank. As chief security officer, Jas’s rank and dividends were in the middle range. She wouldn’t be relaxing in the perfumed seas of Balgamon, as First Mate Haggardy planned to do when that mission was over, but neither would she be handing over every penny she had for the most basic genetic upgrade to her as-yet unconceived child, as one of the maintenance crew had mentioned.
Not that Jas planned on having kids anyway. Her own childhood hadn’t exactly endeared her to the concept, and she had an irrational fear that her child might turn out to be someone like Master Akabe Loba, into whose blood-threaded eyes she was currently staring.
“Enough arguing, Harrington. Twelve sites. Twelve LIVs, and you’ve found nothing but some kind of bushworm, gliding non-venomous spiders, and an ambulatory slime mold. Twelve LIVs that turned up no hostile life forms or territory, and you’re still not prepared to give the all-clear?”
Loba was leaning across a horizontal screen that projected a spinning hologram of K. 67092d. They were in the mission room, where Jas had been summoned to ‛discuss’ her delay in clearing the planet for resource assessment with the master and other high-ranking officers. The master’s head was thrust into the moving holographic image, and the miniature topography played across his features, lending him an even more than usually crazed effect. His carefully coiffed, white-dyed curls seemed about to uncoil and stand on end.
Jas knew she was fighting a losing battle, but she was going to fight it anyway. She was head of security. The safety of the entire crew was her responsibility, and if she had a hunch something on a planet was dangerous, she was going to damn well act on it. She’d never been wrong before.
“I’ve already told you my reasons. It makes no sense that we’ve found no intelligent life. Those structures were built. They aren’t geological. The building material is artificial, manufactured. We’ve found nothing else on the planet like it. Something sentient made those buildings. That’s what Haggardy’s report says.” She turned to the first mate for back up. He was seated at the far end of the table and picking at his nails.
First Mate Haggardy held up his hands. “Now wait a minute, Harrington. I wouldn’t go that far. I only said we can’t conclude it’s natural or artificial. That’s all.” He glanced at the master, who was glaring at him.
Jas cursed under her breath. That wasn’t how his findings read, and he knew it. Was he planning on rewriting his conclusions? She suspected Haggardy was as interested in his bonus as Loba was, or he was even more of a wimp than she’d taken him for. He was a scientist. He should know better than to risk everyone’s lives on a lack of immediate evidence.
She swung back to Loba. “Just because we can’t find what built those structures, that doesn’t mean they weren’t built. The life forms responsible might be hiding. Maybe because they’re afraid, or maybe they’re waiting to attack. We can’t allow Resource Assess on the surface until we know more. We don’t have enough defense units to protect them from a full onslaught.”
“You seem to be getting confused, Harrington,” said Loba quietly, “with your talk of what we can and can’t do. I shouldn’t have to remind you that I’m master of this vessel.” His facial muscles were rigid. He stood straight and drew himself up to his full height, which was a head shorter than Jas’s.
Her stature had always bothered him, she knew, like it seemed to bother many men. But she couldn’t help that any more than she could help doing her kratting job.
“The presence of artificial structures does not prohibit a resource claim under deep space property law,” the master continued. “Several precedents have been set where such items were found to be relics of extinct species. Maybe the structures are buildings, but if that’s the case it’s most likely that whatever created them has long since died out—”
“But the fact—”
“THE FACT remains that if there’s no sign of intelligent or hostile life after twelve LIVs, the planet’s safe enough to assess for resources. Your refusal to give the all clear is a dereliction of duty, and—”
“Sir,” exclaimed Navigator Lee, jumping out of her seat like a jack-in-the-box, “if I could—”
“What?” barked Loba, not taking his eyes off Jas, who held his glare and made a special effort to look down at him.
Lee seemed to momentarily regret her decision to come to Jas’s aid, but she soldiered on. “C.S.O. Harrington’s service has been exemplary throughout the mission,” she said quickly, and didn’t stop when Loba opened his mouth to speak, but gathered speed. “She saved many lives when we were attacked on K. 87593g.” She ran the numbers together: eightsevenfiveninethree. “The defense units were all in the right place at the right time. If it hadn’t been for her command of the evacuation, some of us wouldn’t be here right now.” She looked pointedly at Haggardy, who gazed into space.
“Your point?” asked Loba.
“I just think, if she’s worried about the safety of the planet, we should listen.”
“Thank you for your input, navigator,” said Loba sarcastically, “but if Harrington’s prior performance is under scrutiny, your example hardly helps her, does it? After all, if she was any good at her job, the crew would never have been in any danger in the first place.”
Jas ground her jaw. She’d warned him. She’d gone to his cabin and warned Loba that there had been an overnight increase in animal tracks around the assessment site, and that she recommended withdrawing the team until she could investigate. It was a warning he’d conveniently forgotten. She wasn’t going to let him forget this one.
Her fist thumped the screen and the hologram of the planet wobbled. The officers at the table jumped in their seats. Haggardy got up and backed away.
“I’m chief security officer, and I’m telling you that planet isn’t safe. I can’t tell you why, and I can’t tell you when or where an attack might come from, but I know it will come, and I’m not giving the all clear. You might like to play fast and loose with the lives of two hundred people for the sake of a fat bonus and a regular supply of mythranil, but I sure as hell don’t.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth—before, even—she knew she’d gone too far. As she finished, she drew back from the screen. Everyone was still except Lee, who raised a nervous finger to her lips as her gaze flicked between Loba and Jas.
Without taking his eyes from his security officer, Loba murmured, “Hologram, off.” The slowly spinning image disappeared and without its illumination, the room became dim. No one moved a muscle to switch on the lights.
Loba was an addict. The whole crew knew. It was why no one was allowed to disturb him for six hours of the quiet shift, on threat of dismissal. It was why he dyed his hair white, to cover up the tell-tale crimson tinge. It was why he breathed quickly even when not exerting himself. In the silence his quiet panting was plain to hear.
“Your judgment is clearly impaired, C.S.O. Harrington. For your own safety and the safety of this ship’s crew, you are confined to your cabin until further notice. Should you leave your cabin without permission, you will be placed in the brig for the remainder of the mission. I’ll consider your release if you pass a mental health assessment. Haggardy, accompany her.”
The first mate rose to his feet and moved toward the door.
Jas whirled on her heel, her fists clenched at her sides, looking for a single sign of support from the other officers. Officers whose lives she’d protected on every planet they’d visited that mission. None met her gaze but Lee, who only grimaced in sympathy.
Haggardy was at the open door, waiting for her. There was nothing to do but leave. She stomped over and exited without another word to Loba or the rest of them. Haggardy struggled to keep up as she marched through the passageways to her cabin. What did it matter if she couldn’t tell them why the planet wasn’t safe? Didn’t her years of experience count for anything?
But though Jas was furious, a stronger emotion overrode her anger: fear. In her eleven years in the job, she’d never been wrong when it came to sensing danger. And all her alarm bells were ringing.
The first mate was the closest person to take out her frustration on. “Thanks for your support.”
“Harrington,” replied Haggardy, “your case is weak, and we’re on a schedule. And you certainly didn’t do yourself any favors back there. You shouldn’t have lost your temper like that. Mentioning the master’s indulgences? Bad move.”
Jas turned to him as they arrived at her cabin. “There’s something down there. I know there is,” she said quietly.
“Been running the blood yourself?” was his reply as her cabin door closed.
Chapter Three
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