Chaos forged, p.1
Chaos Forged, page 1
Chaos Forged:
Pandemic
By
Kaitlyn O’Connor
( c ) copyright by Madris DePasture
writing as Kaitlyn O’Connor, April 2008
Cover art by Eliza Black, 2008
Smashwords Edition
ISBN 978-1-60394-
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Chapter One
“Houston, this is Dr. Danielle Stevens aboard the ISS Pegasus. Do you read?” She paused, listening intently for several moments and then repeated the transmission. Nothing but dead air greeted her each time she switched from send to receive.
That was all any of the ten-member crew aboard the international space station had heard for weeks now. Dead air.
The news reports they’d picked up before had been frightening—the reported death tolls from the pandemic staggering, but the news had grown steadily worse as panic gripped the world and violence escalated.
Then—nothing.
The silence was more frightening than everything that had gone before.
Releasing a pent up breath, Danielle propped her arm on the console and her head on her palm, closing her eyes. They burned, feeling grainy from the little sleep she’d had … not that she was by any means alone. No one was sleeping. Everyone was wrestling with the big question.
What do we do now? Wait here to die? Go home and die with everyone else?
Swallowing past the painful knot that rose to wedge in her throat, Danielle lifted her head. It was too late, she thought, for the last option.
No one wanted to admit it. She didn’t want to accept it, but there was no getting around the fact that, the more time that passed, the less likely it was that anyone at all was left.
Impossible. Unacceptable. Unbelievable. And yet, what else was there to think when they couldn’t raise anyone at all?
“Any luck?”
Danielle swiveled her seat and stared at her friend, Dr. Lindsey Peterson, watching the faint hope in the other woman’s eyes die.
She swallowed with an effort, shaking her head. “I’ve only been trying for about an hour, though. With the delay … and there could be interference.”
They both knew she was grasping at straws.
Unable to bear the desolation that flickered through Lindsey’s eyes, Danielle swiveled around to face the console again. “Houston, this is Dr. Danielle Stevens …”
“Give it a rest! You’re using up battery power we can’t afford to waste.”
Danielle twisted to look at the doorway to the com room again. Clancy Morton stood next to Lindsey now, scowling at her. Danielle’s lips tightened. “What the fuck are we going to use it for?” she snapped.
Clancy’s scowl deepened. “Watch your mouth, Doctor Stevens,” he growled. “I’m still the head of this mission.”
“What mission, for Christ’s sake?” Danielle demanded. “They’re all dead! What the hell are we doing up here?”
“We’re doing our jobs!” Clancy snapped. “Some of us, anyway!”
“What the hell do you mean by that?” Danielle shouted at him as he whirled and stalked off. She transferred her attention to Lindsey when he didn’t respond. “What the hell did he mean by that?”
Lindsey shook her head. “Raging at each other isn’t going to change anything.”
Danielle swallowed her fear, anger, and grief with an effort. “It makes me feel better,” she muttered, looking away.
“Does it?”
Danielle dragged in a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly. “No,” she admitted reluctantly.
Lindsey was silent so long she thought the other woman had left. “Do you really think they’re all dead?”
“I don’t know.” She did, she just couldn’t bring herself to repeat it. She wouldn’t have said it all if Clancy hadn’t made her so furious. It was almost as if, as long as she didn’t say it, accept it, it might not be true.
“As long as we don’t know there’s still hope, right?”
Defiantly leaving the com open, Danielle thrust herself away from the console and shoved herself to her feet. “Hope?” She shook her head at Lindsey. “The very last communication we had was from Robert Rawlins. He said not to come home until we got an all clear because the pandemic was completely out of control. Don’t you think somebody would have contacted us in this length of time if there was anybody down there who could?”
“They could’ve closed down mission control. He said they’d been trying to get everyone into quarantine to slow the spread.”
Danielle had thought of that. It was what she hoped herself. They’d been ordered to stay put, told the seriousness of the situation. If the virus was spreading, and killing, as fast as Robert had indicated.… “Robert seemed to think the kill rate was in our favor, that the virus was killing off its hosts so fast it was slowing the spread. If it didn’t go airborne …”
Lindsey managed a tremulous smile. “That’s probably it. They shut everything down and quarantined people in their homes to stop the spread. The kill rate was only about sixty percent when he gave us the first report, right?”
Danielle shrugged. He’d actually said they thought the kill rate was around sixty percent. The last report had it at closer to eighty percent and the plain truth was that, once it began spreading like wildfire, nobody knew what the hell was going on.
“Well … a lot more people are sick than well. I imagine they have their hands full. We just need to keep trying until we reach somebody. Had you thought about trying another bandwidth?”
Guilt made Danielle’s cheeks redden. “I toyed with it a little,” she lied, avoiding Lindsey’s gaze. The fact was, she’d tried every channel when they’d lost contact with Houston and when she hadn’t been able to pick up any of the other stations, she’d begun frantically scanning the airwaves for anything at all. She’d picked up a few transmissions—all bad, all indicating a global pandemic, panic, riots—marshal law when the violence escalated to such proportions that the military had to be called in to try to restore order and then she’d lost even those. All was quiet on planet Earth. There hadn’t been so much as a radio or TV station broadcasting anything but static, or prerecorded shows on a loop, for over a week.
It was almost as if someone had set off a viral bomb.
There hadn’t been any indications, though, that it was viral warfare.
That didn’t preclude the possibility, unfortunately. It just meant that things had gotten so bad so fast that there hadn’t been time to investigate. They hadn’t had time for anything but trying to fight it and burying the dead—not to contain it, not to find a treatment or a cure. Hospitals and clinics had filled up and overflowed so fast, they couldn’t begin to keep up with demand and frantic calls for volunteers to help with the sick had gone largely unanswered because the same thing was happening everywhere at once. No one had enough personnel to handle the problem or enough volunteers or enough medical supplies or enough places to put the sick. The virus had traveled through every transit system as if they were the arteries of a single, living organism. Major cities all over the globe were already fighting for their lives before the realization hit home that it wasn’t an isolated epidemic and by that time it had trickled through the smaller veins and infected almost every population center. Anyone that traveled anywhere was a potential victim—and a carrier.
The abrupt surge of static from the microphone made Danielle and Lindsey both nearly jump out of their skin. Both women whipped their heads toward the microphone, holding their breath. “ISS Pegasus, this is Lymra Sabin Au-tere of the Galactic Federation flagship Mertosin.”
Danielle felt her jaw sag. She whipped her head toward Lindsey again. They stared at one another blankly in shock for an endless moment.
“Dr. Danielle Stevens, this is Lymra Sabin Au-tere …”
Danielle and Lindsey both let out a scream of hysterical joy, launching themselves at each other and bouncing up and down.
“Do you read? Dr. Danielle Stevens of the ISS …”
Danielle broke from Lindsey’s frantic embrace. “I have to talk to him. Run! Get the others!”
Her hand was shaking so badly when she flopped into her chair and grabbed the microphone that she nearly dropped it. “This Dr. Danielle Stevens of the ISS Pegasus speaking,” she said in a voice quavering with excitement.
“This is Lymra Sabin Au-tere of the Galactic Federation vessel Mertosin …”
Danielle’s mind went abruptly blank. “Who?”
“Danielle!” Lindsey called from down the corridor. “Come here!”
“I’m trying to talk to this … person!” Danielle yelled back at her impatiently.
“Don’t!”
Danielle swiveled around in her chair, frowning. “What?”
When no one responded, Danielle debated with herself a moment and finally got up, moving to the doorway. She could hear a rumble of voices coming from the main cabin area. After glancing at the com again, she finally stepped into the corridor.
“We have communications!” she called.
“Get in here!” Clancy bellowed.
Danielle’s lips tightened but after glancing at the com again, she jogged down the corridor to see what was happening, skidding to a halt when she reached the main cabin a nd discovered that the entire crew was bunched around the viewing ports on either side, gaping at something outside. A wave of cold crested over her. Uncertain she could handle more bad news, Danielle moved slowly toward the nearest group and glanced outside.
A silvery gray object filled the entire view port, blocking out any view of space that would ordinarily have been visible. Danielle stared at it uncomprehendingly. Of their own accord, her eyes moved, recording, tracing the smooth surface of the gigantic sphere from top to bottom and end to end, noting view ports, lights—strange markings along the side of the vehicle—the space craft.
Feeling perfectly blank, she dragged her gaze from it after a moment, glanced at Lindsey, Clancy, Bud, Joyce, and Richard and finally turned to look across the room at the other group. There was another ship like the first hovering on that side of the space station.
Clancy finally turned away from the port, staring at Danielle, or rather through her for several moments before his gaze finally focused on her. “You’ve had communications?”
It took Danielle several tries to find her voice. “Yes,” she managed to say a little hoarsely. “I couldn’t … he has an unfamiliar accent. It sounded like he said something about Galactic Federation.”
Their conversation seemed to snap everyone out of their shock. They all started trying to talk at once.
“It’s them. It has to be them! Who else would it be?”
“Houston?”
“Give me a fucking break! We haven’t heard from Houston in weeks. She said an accent!”
“What kind of accent?”
“Will you all shut up!” Clancy roared abruptly, sweeping a glare around the room. “I’m trying to think, goddamn it!”
“I left him on the com,” Danielle said uneasily. “What do you want me to do?”
Clancy’s lips tightened. Finally, he motioned her down the corridor and followed her. “Let’s try to find out who they are and what they’re doing here.”
Danielle swallowed a little convulsively, nodded jerkily, and preceded Clancy to the com room. When she’d collapsed weakly in her seat, she took a moment to try to collect herself. Striving to steady her madly pounding pulse, she closed her eyes and took deep, even breaths until she felt a little more calm. “This is Dr. Stevens. I apologize for breaking communications. Is that … are you aboard one of the vessels currently alongside the ISS Pegasus?”
There was a lengthy delay. Finally, the same deep male voice that had spoken before answered her. “Yes. I must apologize, as well. There is a delay in the translator.”
Danielle slid a wide-eyed look at Clancy. She saw immediately, though, that Clancy wasn’t going to be any help at all. Depressing the link again, Danielle spoke into the microphone. “What are your origins?”
“The Kirsian Galaxy,” Sabin responded after another lengthy pause.
“That’s bullshit!” Clancy snapped, uttering a bark of laughter that held no humor.
Danielle sent him another wide-eyed look. “Have you lost your mind? For god’s sake, Clancy! What if they’d heard you?”
“I don’t give a flying fuck! Kirsian Galaxy? Where the fuck is that? He’s trying to say they’re … aliens?”
Danielle stared at him. “You think they aren’t? Just who, on Earth, do you think would have ships like that? Did you see the size of them?”
Clancy ran a shaking hand over his face, glanced around the room, and finally dropped heavily into the only other chair in the room.
After studying him for several moments, waiting to see if he meant to give her any input, Danielle returned her attention to the console. “What is the purpose …? What are your intentions, Lymra Sabin?”
“The people of the Galactic Federation send greetings,” Sabin said formally. “We have come to offer aid.”
“I’ll … uh … I’ll have to speak with my superior and convey your message.”
The pause was longer that time. “Permission to board?”
Danielle stared at the console as if she could see through it to the being on the other end. “Clancy? A little help here. He wants to come on board.”
“We understand that the situation is dire. If it will help to work things out more quickly …?” Sabin said, almost as if he knew the chaos he’d thrown them into.
And maybe he did? What must their puny space station look like to beings capable of building ships like those surrounding them?
Clancy frowned, obviously considering it. “Tell him permission is granted.”
Danielle felt her jaw slide to half cock. “Clancy! We don’t know anything about these beings—nothing! Don’t you think we should discuss this among the crew …?”
Clancy glared at her. “I’m in charge. And just how the hell do you think we could stop them from coming aboard? We need to try to present a front of friendliness until we can figure out what’s going on!”
Danielle was almost as surprised that what he’d said made sense as she was that it hadn’t occurred to her.
She turned to the com again. “You have permission to board. You may dock with the starboard bay.”
“That will not be necessary. I will transport to the large central area of the station.”
Danielle turned to Clancy again. They stared at one another. “The rec room!” they both said at almost the same instant, leaping up and rushing from the com room.
Danielle saw when they reached the room that a blur of light had appeared in the center of the room. Drawn by her and Clancy’s entrance, the rest of the crew turned from the view ports, staring as the blur rapidly became more solid and finally vanished altogether, leaving a man—or at least a being of humanoid proportions—standing where the light had been only moments before.
Frozen, no one moved. Danielle didn’t think she even breathed.
His suit looked like nothing she’d ever seen, almost more like some sort of armor than a space suit, and appeared to fit him almost like a second skin. As she stared, he reached up and removed the helmet that completed his suit. Her heart slammed into her rib cage as the head slowly emerged … skin tones much like theirs, a square jaw and chin, a firm mouth. Long, inky black hair fell around his shoulders.
He’s human, she thought blankly, feeling lightheaded as she stared at the man’s face.
* * * *
Lymra Sabin Au-tere experienced an internal fluctuation of unknown origins as he materialized within the human habitat that spawned a flicker of unaccustomed surprise in him. His heartbeat accelerated to 2.5 beats more per parsect than normal. That circumstance disconcerted him, heaping another indignity upon the first, produced a veritable flood of unaccountable emotion, and succeeded in thoroughly disorienting him for a handful of parsects.
He dragged in a deep, calming breath and took a moment to examine the situation, deciding he could allow himself that since there was clearly no imminent threat of personal injury.
No doubt the lack of true gravity accounted for the surprise, he decided, which understandably produced the slightly accelerated pulse, and yet he wasn’t completely satisfied with that explanation, as logical as it seemed. After all, he’d expected it—should have. He’d carefully scanned the habitat and adjusted his suit’s parameters accordingly before he’d even stepped onto the transport. His body shouldn’t have been sensitive enough to detect the slight variation in gravity and pressure that his suit hadn’t been able to account for. It was miniscule.
On the other hand, mentally prepared didn’t necessarily mean physically prepared, he reminded himself. Undoubtedly, he’d miscalculated. His body had felt the difference even though he hadn’t expected that it would.
It bothered him that he’d miscalculated even to such a minor extent and, perhaps, that accounted for the uncomfortable fluctuation of emotion?
He realized after a moment that the reason he hadn’t been able to accept his first theory was because he was aware that the leap in his pulse had coincided with his first clear view of the inhabitants of the habitat, not his arrival. He’d simply tried to dismiss that unpalatable truth and now realized he shouldn’t have.
A certain amount of wariness was not only completely logical and understandable, but desirable under the circumstances since it raised his level of alertness.
As much as he’d learned about this species, he was conscious of the fact that their knowledge of the species barely broke the surface. There was sufficient data, however, to make it clear that humans were an extremely dangerous species, completely unpredictable and erratic in behavior except for one particular trait.
