Over the Moon (Star-Crossed Book 1) (13 page)

“This is Colonel Pierce, U.S. Air Force. Put their leader on the radio, Wynn.”

Patrick turned toward Ed, holding up the microphone. Ed shrugged and took it.

“Yeah? What d’you want?”

“You the leader?” Pierce asked, then without waiting for an answer, he went on. “I want to come out to talk to you. To negotiate. You don’t want to go to the moon. You just want someplace safe, right?”

“That’s the general idea, yes,” Ed said.

“Then let’s see if we can come to some sort of deal. I’ll come out to you. We talk. Fair?”

“We can talk,” Ed replied. “But one bit of monkey business, and the doctor dies. You get me?”

“I get you. Just don’t be rash. He’s your only card here,” Pierce said. “You burn him, we’ve got no reason to hold off. We’d be all over you.”

“You play us straight, he’ll stay alive,” Ed said. Then he handed the microphone back to Patrick, who set it back in the console cradle.

Patrick was starting to feel woozy again. Whatever the good doctor gave him was wearing off. He’d been shot, lost blood, been doped awake, and now he was coming down off the drugs. Blackness started to creep around the edges of his vision, and he found himself fighting just to stay conscious.

“You don’t look so hot,” Ed said.

“Don’t feel so hot,” Patrick replied, sweating with the effort.

“Here comes that Colonel,” Ed said. Patrick looked out the cockpit window, and there were three vehicles racing across the runway toward them. Three pretty big vehicles. Why so many? Was this Pierce bringing out an entire platoon of security forces?

He must have dozed for a few minutes. The next thing Patrick knew, there were new faces coming into the cockpit. They ignored him, so he kept his eyes closed. Better they think he was actually unconscious. He cracked his eyelids just enough to see what was going on. These new men were in uniform – United States Air Force. He opened his eyes the rest of the way in relief. The cavalry had arrived.

“Thank god,” he said. “How’d you take them down?”

The men glanced at him but didn’t reply. One of them sat down in the copilot’s seat and began checking the console. Patrick recognized the pattern. He was doing standard pre-flight checks. He was getting the shuttle ready for takeoff.

“Guys? What’s going on?” Patrick asked.

“Shut up,” one of the soldiers replied. “The Colonel thinks you might be useful, but if you get annoying, we can always space you.”

What the hell was going on? Patrick made to rise, but then the engines came alive and the ship rumbled down the runway. He hastily took his seat back and strapped himself in. He wasn’t going to get any straight answers from these men.

And then they were airborne, clawing their way upwards out of the atmosphere. Patrick knew this course, had flown it scores of times. They were headed for orbit. The shuttle accelerated, going supersonic, and he blacked out for a few minutes again.

When he came to, he was floating against the straps, and people were talking nearby. It was great to be back in space again, but he had a bad feeling that all was not well.

“You were supposed to keep the kid alive,” Pierce said. “The kid, and the doctor. How hard could it be?”

“He got in the way of a few bullets,” Ed said. “Your men were shooting back at us. My boys got carried away.”

It sounded like both men were just outside the cockpit compartment. Pierce and Ed in league? This day kept getting worse.

“At least you kept Rosa alive,” Pierce said. “Speaking of whom…” His voice trailed off, and Patrick could hear more voices coming their way.

“Sorry, sir. He said he needed to speak with you. Said it was urgent.”

“Yes, doctor? How can I help you?” Pierce said.

Patrick was done with listening to voices. He wanted to be out there and see what was actually going on. He opened his eyes. The cockpit was empty except for the pilot, who was focused on his console. With an effort, Patrick unclipped his straps and floated free of the seat.

“You awake?” the pilot said. “Good. Jeffries? Come stow this guy somewhere in the back.”

Another soldier pulled himself into the cockpit. He looked a little greenish.

“First time in space, Jeffries?” Patrick asked. “Don’t worry, I’ll follow you. Already been shot once today.” He gestured at his leg and winced theatrically. It didn’t take much acting – the leg wound hurt like hell again.

He pushed off lightly and flitted out of the cockpit into the open passenger space beyond. Ed was there. So was Dr. Rosa, a soldier with officer rank on his shoulder that had to be Pierce, and two other rank and file soldiers.

“Wynn! Awake at last,” Pierce said. The man looked to Patrick something like a cat with a feather caught between his teeth. Smug didn’t even begin to cover it.

“You two planned this thing together?” Patrick asked, incredulous. It seemed the most unlikely team imaginable.

“Ed here used to work for me,” Pierce said. “So when I needed some muscle – and he needed a way to get his family away from the virus – well, our interests just naturally went together.”

“Except he didn’t,” Dr. Rosa said. “Get his family away from the virus.”

Everyone stopped moving.

“Tell me what you mean, doctor,” Pierce said, his voice chilling.

“I examined his people. At least one of them is sick. Maybe two or three,” Rosa said.

Nobody needed to ask what they were sick with.

C
ARMEN CARRIED
the steaming mug over to Levins’s desk. “Your coffee, doctor.”

He took the drink from her hand, beaming at her. “Thank you, Carmen. You’ve been invaluable since your father left. I couldn’t have done all of this without you.”

She managed not to frown – barely. His ‘all of this’ amounted to almost nothing, chasing down the ongoing dead-end of the vaccine that she was increasingly convinced would take years if not decades to finish. Another batch of test samples was brewing, but Carmen had already written them off. There was no chance that the things would work.

Her new place of work was nestled between a pair of consoles. She’d tucked a chair in there, and had plenty of computing power to work on her hypothesis. So far, she’d had some modicum of luck producing some theoretical samples of a cure. What she was trying to do was find a chemical which would stop the virus from exiting an infected cell – essentially stop the spread of the virus through the body, to buy time for the body’s own immune system to deal with the infection.

It wasn’t a new theory. The same tactics had been used to build anti-influenza drugs. Applying the method to curing an alien virus was complicated, but Carmen was convinced that there was a way. First – because she’d seen the videos in her father’s email, and that was clearly how the teen’s immunity worked. And second, because her gut said that it just made sense. The virus wasn’t natural, after all. It had been made. And she knew that human doctors would never manufacture a virus without also making the cure. She imagined aliens would have much the same qualms about releasing bugs they could not control. Which meant there had to be a way to stop the thing. She just needed to find it – and her gut said she was on the right track.

Carmen was keeping Dr. Levins out of her way by the simple expedient of making the man coffee whenever his cup ran dry. He was ensconced as the ruler of his new domain by the time she got down to the lab, and he was clearly chuffed at the promotion. His hackles went up as soon as she arrived – she was popular with the lab crews, and he felt threatened. Carmen figured he’d be easier to manage if he didn’t feel like she was working against him.

Thus, the coffee. It interrupted her work, but it kept him happy and smiling. It also made him not question whatever it was she was working on. If she was making him coffee, then she must be a team player, doing her part, right? She chuckled. If only he knew… In fact, he was overdue to find out.

She didn’t have to wait much longer. A clatter from the center of the room got her attention. Levins had dropped his tablet to the floor. He bent over to retrieve it, but blanched white only halfway down. He stood back up and rushed from the room as quickly as he could.

He returned a few minutes later, looking much relieved. Carmen hid her grin. His relief would not last long. He bent again to collect his tablet, and sat back down. That lasted for all of about five minutes, and then he ran out the door again.

Carmen kept her seat and waited. She had time, and it was important to be patient.

Her tablet buzzed. She checked her watch. Fifteen minutes. Which was about right for Levins to get down to the infirmary, for them to confirm that yes, he did indeed have a gastro-intestinal problem, and for them to find him a nice bed to rest in while they checked him out. The tablet buzzed a second time. The call was from Levins. She pressed the button to accept his call, standing up and walking into the middle of the room as she did.

“Carmen! Thank goodness,” Levins said. He still looked fairly pale, but he was laying back against some pillows, and looked more comfortable now at least.

“Dr. Levins,” she replied. “What’s the matter?”

“I seem to have caught a bug. Or maybe some bad food. Something,” he said. “I’ll be down here for the rest of the day at least, I fear. I really don’t feel well.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry to hear that.” Carmen was in the middle of the room now. Her voice and the tablet volume were both high enough that about half the crew had taken notice.

“Can you take over in the lab for now?” Levins asked her. “Keep things running smoothly?”

“Of course. Don’t you worry about it,” Carmen replied. “We’ll keep things going here. Just get better.”

“Ah, good. Thank you, Carmen.”

“Oh – I was working today on some tests my father and I were discussing before he left. They have to do with why he went back to Earth so abruptly.” Carmen crossed imaginary fingers and went for it. ‘You don’t mind if we keep working on that, do you?”

“Mind? A project for your father? Of course not,” Levins said. He winced, sweat beading on his forehead. “I have to go. Use your judgment for priorities. You’re in charge. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

And just like that, the lab was hers. All it took was the gentle application of a few large doses of laxatives into the man’s coffee. He drank four cups of the stuff before it took effect. Best of all, the medic wouldn’t give him medicine to stop the loose bowels, because if it was bad food or a bacterial infection, that could do more harm than good. So he’d be out for at least the next twelve hours or so, she figured. Maybe longer if he needed some time to rest after the symptoms abated.

Carmen felt a little guilt over dosing the man. He wasn’t a bad person. But he wasn’t capable of thinking outside the box. He was a longtime friend of her father’s, and he was good at plodding, methodical work. But that wasn’t what they needed right now. They needed a leap forward to a solution.

Which her father was going to provide soon anyway, once they could study the immunity that boy had in some detail. Her father would listen, if she showed the time-stamped scans of the cells side by side. And he’d see the same thing she had. Whatever was letting the teen’s cells stop the viral spread, they’d see it for themselves once they had him here.

So why the rush to solve the problem before her father returned?

Her father’s harsh words were like a wound in her mind, always there, never relenting. He’d written her off. A child, he’d said. The work until he returned was irrelevant, he’d said. And he’d all but outright admitted the only reason she was here was because he wanted to protect her. None of which was OK with her. So yeah, part of her motive in trying to solve the problem quickly was to prove to her father that he was wrong.

But part was also… She was more worried about Pat than she was willing to admit to herself out loud. He was back on Earth by now, and her father planned to leave him there. She knew the odds were Pat was going to be left in hot water on a planet that was a mess and getting worse daily. The sooner she could solve the virus, the sooner Patrick would be safe. And solving the virus would mean she could go back to Earth again. If he wasn’t here on the moon, there was little about the place that interested her.

Carmen cleared her throat. Most of the team had been paused for the few moments since she’d signed off the tablet call, waiting for her to say something. They all knew something was up.

“OK,” she said. “New marching orders.”

She tapped her tablet a few times, sending files to the two big screens on the lab wall. “This is what my father and I were working on before he left. This is what the main project is going to likely shift toward once he returns.” She set the two time-stamped sets of images running side by side.

She had everyone’s attention, now. “The right hand image is a normal virus patient, normal immune response. Notice on the left hand image that the virus is unable to break away from the cell membrane.”

Everyone was watching the screens. She could hear people sucking in their breath when the antibody came along and destroyed the infected cell. The entire team was holding back cheers right now. Or tears. Or both. Most of them had family on Earth, after all. Family that was at greater risk with each day that passed without a cure.

She looked around the room, and knew she had them. If she’d tried this display with Levins, he would have insisted on waiting. Her father was due back in just a few days, after all. Levins didn’t have the drive to overcome his inertia. But he was out of the way now. The entire team heard him pass lab leadership over to her. If some of them were smart enough to wonder now if she’d engineered his removal, they were also probably bright enough to recognize why she’d done it.

“I have a list of potential molecules which might do the trick,” she said, loud enough so her voice carried around the room. “But we need to try anything that might work. I want all efforts diverted to this.”

“Dr. Rosa, where is this second set of slides coming from?” That was Dennis Farmer, a big black man who looked more like a retired boxer than the excellent doctor that he was. He was the only other doctor senior to her on the moon – the only person who might try to take the project away from her. Carmen thought quickly. She needed to not lie. That wouldn’t help her, not in the long run. Bad enough that she’s have to deal with Levins if he discovered she’d dosed him with a laxative! But she also needed to have this man on her side. She had to tell a careful truth.

“It’s classified. I’m sorry,” she said, putting as much contrition as she could into her words. “I don’t have all the details myself yet. But I’m confident my father will brief us all on his return.” There, all true, and just enough information to give Farmer confidence in her plan.

It worked. He nodded up and down vigorously. “Of course,” he said. “So we’re laying the groundwork for him, getting things ready.”

“Precisely. And the more work we can get done before father gets back, the faster we can finish this cure and get it to the people who need it most,” Carmen said. “So let’s get to work, everyone! Everyone on Earth is counting on us to be brilliant. Let’s not let them down!”

The team went into motion. They’d been working together for a while now. They all knew what to do from here. Like a well honed machine, they would get the work done, and report results or problems to her. She took her father’s usual place, sitting on a stool in the middle of the room, working on her tablet. She had computers analyzing the images of the virus, trying to find molecules that might fit into it, like a key into a lock.

She’d heard a cough from the doorway and glanced up. It was Amy. As soon as she saw that she had Carmen’s attention, she beckoned. Carmen didn’t know Amy all that well. They ran into each other from time to time, but they hadn’t chatted. For the most part, her father’s virus team and the rest of the base personnel remained their own separate worlds.

No, Carmen didn’t know her well. But she knew people. Amy’s face was pale. Her hands were shaking – not a lot, but just enough that Carmen was able to see the tremor from across the room when she looked for it. Her eyes were red. Had she been crying?

Fear slammed Carmen in the gut. It was Pat. Something had gone wrong. That had to be what this was about.

She walked across the room as calmly as she could manage. It wouldn’t do for the staff to see her race over in a panic, although that was her first response. Whatever Amy was upset about, it might have nothing to do with Pat anyway. It might be something totally different, she told herself – ignoring the voice in her head telling her that she wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Amy, what’s wrong?” she said softly, as soon as she was close.

“You need to come with me,” Amy said.

“Of course,” Carmen replied. “But what’s going on?”

“Easier to show you than ta tell you,” Amy replied, starting off down the hall. She stopped after a few paces to see if Carmen would follow. With a small shrug, Carmen set off after her.

Amy led her down into the central dome, and then out into the one reserved for the lunar research, where the Hoppers were stored and Pat did so much of the work for his projects. A big chunk of the work station had been cleared, and a large box assembled in the middle out of silicate panels. The crate looked odd, out of place. It wasn’t something that was manufactured on Earth. Someone had built it here, using the three-D printer to produce the parts.

“Now, what’s going on?” Carmen asked. Amy was fishing for something in a toolbox resting on a work bench. Her back was turned, so Carmen couldn’t see what she was doing. She took a step closer.

Amy turned around. She was holding a large pistol in her hands.

“Get into the box,” Amy said.

“What the hell?!” Carmen said. She raised her hands, more in reflex than anything else. “Amy, what are you doing?”

“Just get in the box, and you won’t be hurt.”

Where had Amy gotten a gun? There were no firearms on the base. Hell, it was crazy to have a gun in space at all! What if she shot through the dome, blew a hole in something vital in the machinery? She could kill everyone with that thing.

Carmen took a step toward the box. “OK, Amy. I’ll get in the crate.” It was a good size for a little cell, she realized. About six feet square – so half a foot of clearance over her head. Not a lot of room inside. She took another step, and was able to see inside. Nothing in there but plain walls, floor, and ceiling.

She looked back over at Amy. The pistol looked bigger than ever, pointed at her head from only a couple of feet away. Amy gestured with the pistol, waggling it a few times in a casual way that made Carmen wince, hoping she wouldn’t accidentally pull the trigger. “Go on, keep moving.”

Behind Amy, a bit of movement caught Carmen’s eye. Someone was back there, hiding behind one of the work benches. Reddish hair poked out from the hiding spot, and then part of a face. It was Jacob! But would he help her? She had to at least give him a chance.

“I am moving,” Carmen said. “But what’s going on, Amy? This is crazy!”

“Not so crazy,” Amy said. “My brother, the rest of my family back on Earth? You think I was just going to leave them all there to die?”

“No,” Carmen replied. “I have family there too. We all do. That’s why we’re trying to cure the virus.”

“And how’s that working for you?” Amy spat. “I know the bigwigs are planning a huge new colony, down there at the south pole in that glacier that we found. They figure they’re going to pick and choose who lives and who dies. Well, surprise. Not anymore. Not since we took the shuttle.”