Solfleet: The Call of Duty (87 page)

“Everything...is
there,” he repeated, closing his eyes. He was fading fast.

“Sir?”
MacLeod gently shook him again. “Sir?”

The old man
opened his eyes again, but even in the dark MacLeod could see they weren’t
focusing on anything. And his next words hardly made any sense at all. “Used
cyberclones... Desperation... Conspir...Conspiracy...” His eyes wanted to close
but he fought to keep them open. “My jacket,” he whispered. And with that, he
lost his battle. His eyes rolled back into his head and he slipped into
unconsciousness.

“Sir?”
MacLeod said, gently shaking the old man again. “Sir, can you hear me? Can you
at least tell me who you are?” The vital signs monitor suddenly flat-lined and
the heart/pulse monitor’s beeping tones changed to a steady, high-pitched
whine. MacLeod practically jumped out of the chair as he shouted, “Sir!” and
shook him more vigorously. He barely had time to draw another breath before the
emergency personnel he was about to cry out for burst into the room, slapped on
the lights, and pushed past him as though he weren’t even there.

“Cardio
stimulus!” one of the medics ordered.

“Clear!”

MacLeod
glanced at the monitor as he backed out of the way. The little spot of light
pulling the blue-white line across the screen behind it like a comet’s tail
spiked as the old man’s body jumped, but then the flat-line instantly returned.

“Again!”

“Clear!”

This time
his body nearly jumped off the bed and the monitor beeped twice in time with
the spiking light spot, but then the flat-line returned once more.

“Mister
Chairman, please leave the room,” the med-tech apparently in charge requested
as he emptied a hypo full of something directly into the old man’s chest.

“But I need
to...”

“Now, Mister
Chairman!” he demanded.

MacLeod
hesitated another moment, but the look on the med-tech’s face made it very
clear that he wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. That in addition to the
Federation police sergeant’s hand that found its way to his shoulder made for a
very persuasive argument, so he started backing toward the door, slowly, still
watching as the medical team tried frantically to revive the old man.

“Have a nice
night, sir,” the sergeant told him as he stepped in front of him and ‘helped’
him to back away.

MacLeod
bumped into the door, then reached back and opened it and stepped into the hall
while still observing as much of the medical team’s valiant efforts as he
possibly could until the door finally closed in front of him.

He turned his
back and, with his bodyguards once again at his sides, went in search of the
patients’ property storage room.

Her long
platinum hair fluttered freely in the fresh evening breeze blowing in off the
open sea and cooled her bare, suntanned skin. As she strolled along the unspoiled
beach’s hard wet sands, holding Karen’s soft, warm hand in hers, small waves—just
minor swells that rose above the smooth surface of the tranquil sea—succumbed
to the shallow depths and rolled up onto the beach with a sound like the
tinkling of crystalline wind chimes, lapping at her feet and chilling her toes
with salty foam. The swollen orange-red sun painted a glowing rainbow across
the distant clouds as it slowly sank into the sea beyond the indistinct
horizon, bathing Karen in a soft golden glow that enhanced her radiant beauty.
Somewhere off in the distance seagulls screeched for reasons known only to the
gulls themselves.

“Our
world is so beautiful,” Karen said, her melodic tone like a tender song in Liz’s
ear.

Liz
stopped walking, and Karen with her, and turned to her. “Not so beautiful as
you.”

Karen
gazed at her through those gentle eyes and smiled her warm, loving smile. “I so
love you, Liz,” she said.

Liz stepped
closer, touching her breasts to Karen’s, and kissed her softly. “I love you,
too,” she told her, unable to speak above a whisper. She kissed her again, then
took her into her arms and embraced her.

“Incoming
communication.”

“What did
you say?” Liz asked as she pulled away, though only far enough to look Karen in
the eye.

Karen
looked at her oddly, but didn’t reply.

Liz let
go of her, then stepped away from the water, up the sloping beach toward the
line of giant palm trees that sheltered their home from the elements. She chose
a spot at random and spread their blanket out on the fine, dry sand.

“Incoming
communication.”

Liz
turned to find Karen standing at her shoulder. “Why do you keep saying that?”
she asked her.

Karen
flashed her that same odd look, but followed it up this time by saying, “I didn’t
say anything, my love.”

“But I...”

“Make
love to me,” Karen said. Then she lay back on the blanket and stretched out her
arms, beckoning to her.

Liz knelt
on the blanket, straddling Karen’s right leg, then leaned forward onto her
hands and knees and lowered herself into Karen’s waiting arms.

“Incoming
communication.”

She gazed
into Karen’s eyes once again, but this time she didn’t ask. What did it matter?
Closing her eyes then, she touched her lips to Karen’s, stroking and gently
pinching her nipples between her fingertips as they kissed. She dragged her
fingers lightly down between Karen’s breasts as the flames of passion burned inside
them, over her stomach, through her silky pubic crown and into the moist, warm
folds of soft flesh between her legs. She kissed Karen’s chin, her jaw, her
neck. She dragged her tongue lightly along her collar bone and down over her
right breast, then began licking and suckling tenderly on her nipple.

“Incoming
communication.”

Liz
ignored Karen’s odd words, shutting them completely out of her mind. She
quivered and moaned with pleasure, feeling Karen’s fingers sliding deep inside
her.

“Incoming
communication.”

She let
Karen’s right nipple spring back from her gentle bite and turned her attention
to the left, and—
dropped her head back into the soft, overstuffed pillow.

“Incoming
communication.”

Liz
jumped, startled by the suddenly deeper voice behind her. She turned to find Admiral
Hansen standing at their feet and staring down at them.

“Admiral
Hansen!” she exclaimed, red-faced with embarrassment. She couldn’t believe he’d
caught her naked—that he’d caught them in the act of making love.

“Incoming
communication,” he said.

“What?”
She looked at Karen, then back at Hansen. “Why are you both saying that?”

Hansen
just stood there staring down at her for what seemed like several long seconds,
then repeated, “Incoming communication.”

Liz was
about to turn back to Karen and just ignore him when he suddenly bent down and
grabbed her firmly by the arm. “Incoming communication!” he barked.

“What are
you doing?” Liz cried, struggling to break free of his grasp. “Let go of me!”

He pulled
her to her feet and started dragging her away from Karen toward the water.

“Let me
go!” she insisted. She twisted and pulled against his grasp, pounded on his arm
repeatedly with her fist, even hauled off and punched him right in the mouth,
but she couldn’t break free. “Admiral, please!” she pleaded. “Let me go!”

“Incoming
communication!” he repeated as he pulled her into the water.

Ankle
deep. The receding waves swept the sand from beneath her feet, robbing her of
what little leverage she could find. She couldn’t break free. She looked back to
her wife, who’d risen to her feet and stood gazing after her. “Karen!” she
screamed.

“Incoming
communication!”

Knee
deep. The receding waves pushed against her legs, further defeating her efforts
to resist. She couldn’t break free. Her wife walked to the water’s edge. “Karen!”
she screamed again. “Help me!”

“Incoming
communication!”

Hip deep.
The current pushed against her. She couldn’t fight it. She couldn’t break free.
Her wife only stood there and watched with tears running down over her cheeks,
unable to do anything as the admiral pulled her farther out to sea. “Karen, please!”
she cried as her own eyes filled with tears. “Don’t let him take me!”

“
Incoming
communication.
”

Liz opened
her tired eyes and blinked back her tears, but she couldn’t see a thing. The
bedroom was as dark as a moonless midnight. Even the headboard clock’s dim
blue-green glow was missing. Karen must have switched it off. She closed her
eyes again. She’d been sleeping on her stomach, she realized—something she
rarely ever did, usually only when she was completely exhausted—and was lying
on her right arm with her hand tucked between her legs.

“
Incoming
communi...
”

“All right!”
she shouted, finally silencing the computer. “Damn it!”

She
remembered that Karen had taken the day off work. She stretched her left arm
across the width of the bed but found only the empty sheets. Karen had gotten
up already. “What time is it?” she asked.

“
The time
is nineteen twenty-seven hours,
” the computer responded.

Jeez!
She’d
slept the whole day away! She pulled her right arm out from under her body and
reached for the comm-panel in the wall to answer the incoming call, but then
realized that her fingers were wet. So instead she tossed the blankets aside
and threw her legs out over the floor and sat up. “Lights,” she said. Despite
the hour, the lights only came up to the same dim level they did each morning.
No doubt Karen’s doing. She’d have to remember to thank her. She reached out to
the panel with her other hand and set it for audio only, then stabbed her index
finger to the answer pad.

“Elizabeth
Royer here,” she said. Her voice was scratchy.

“
Sigma
one-seven here, Commander.
” There was something immediately apparent in his
voice, and Royer knew right away that she wasn’t going to like this call. “
Better
go silent and secure, ma’am. I’m afraid I have some bad news.
”

No. She wasn’t
going to like this call at all. “Stand by,” she said. She put the call on hold.
“Where is Karen?”

“
Karen is
not presently at home,
” the computer answered.

Not
presently at home? Where might she have gone? Had she made plans for the day?
Liz couldn’t remember anything. Perhaps she’d just gone out shopping or
something.

She stood
and stretched every muscle in her body—the room’s cool air felt good on her bare,
sweat-moistened skin—then went into the bathroom to wash her hands. She picked up
her short, pearl-white Japanese silk mini-robe off the back of her chair as she
made her way back through the bedroom but thought twice about pulling it on,
preferring to take a shower first.

“Is there anyone
else besides me anywhere in these quarters right now?” she asked. Not that there
should have been.

“
Negative,
”
the computer responded.

She hung her
robe on the door hook and left the bedroom without putting anything on.

She smelled
coffee. She went into the kitchen and found a freshly brewed pot waiting for
her. Karen once again. God bless her. She’d thought of everything. The
comm-panel above the counter top was also waiting, flashing “COMMUNICATION ON
HOLD” in its familiar bright blue-green letters.

“Resume
communication, audio-only,” she said as she grabbed a mug out of the cabinet.

“
Security
encryption is engaged. Please provide decryption access code.
”

“Royer,
Elizabeth,” she said as she poured her coffee. “Commander. Beta five dash six
one one alpha gamma.”

“
Positive
match. Access code accepted. Audio channel open.
”

“All right,
Mister Preston. Let’s have it.”

“
It’s
bad, Commander.
”

She sipped
her coffee—it had never tasted better—then asked, “So, are you going to tell me
or not?”

“
Yes, ma’am.
I just lost four of my agents.
”

That hit her
head on like a freighter zipping through jumpspace. “You just what?” she asked,
hoping she’d misunderstood him but fearing that she hadn’t.

“
I’ve got
four dead agents, one badly wounded, and one in civilian police custody.
”

She set her
mug down and grasped the edge of the counter with both hands, feeling a little
lightheaded all of the sudden. “What the hell happened, Mister Preston?” she demanded.
“Tell me everything. I want every detail.”

“
One of
my men tried to grab subject-one off the city tram when it stopped at Roosevelt
Island. I don’t know what went wrong or why yet, but I do know that a
plain-clothes police officer wrestled him to the floor of the tram and dragged
him away in restraints.
”

“What about
subject-one?” she asked urgently.

“
He got
off in Manhattan and headed for the Federation Building. We tried to take him
into custody before he got there, but... Everything went to hell, Commander.
”

“Mister
Preston, ‘everything went to hell’ doesn’t sound like every detail to me.” What
little patience she had started with was growing shorter by the second. “What
happened?”

“
Subject-one
fought off the next agent who tried to take him and got away. Her back-up moved
in as fast as they could, but by that time he’d reached the Fed Building and dragged
the U.S. Marine guards into the picture. There was a shootout, and...
”