Blood and Fire (9 page)

Shibano reached out and tried to grab a few of the fairy pinpoints, but they whirled out of reach like motes of dust. He grabbed again and again, but each time the sparkles eluded him. There were more twinkling pinpoints around him now, flickering in and out of existence. They were both beguiling and ... disturbing. They danced in the air with a nervous quality.

Berryman turned slowly, trying to scan them with a hand-held unit, but the wavicles seemed to be avoiding an area defined by his scanning field. Both Korie and Berryman noticed it at the same time.

“Do you want to try turning that off?” Korie suggested quietly.

“I suppose we could try that,” Berryman replied, just as cautiously. He switched off the scanner. He turned slowly, observing the behavior of the wavicles. They danced in closer ...

Korie and Berryman exchanged a glance.

“Do you want to try and catch one?” Korie asked.

“Dr. Williger will have my hide if I don't try.”

“Don't make assumptions!” Williger's voice came rasping into their helmets. “I'm more likely to skin you alive if you put yourself in unnecessary danger.”

“Do you want some of these things or not?” Berryman retorted.

Williger didn't reply immediately. She was conferring with Captain Parsons. Finally, her voice came back, “If you can get one in a bottle, fine. If not—don't.”

Korie said. “I don't think they like the scanning fields.” To Berryman, he added, “Try turning your helmet scanners off.”

“And then what?”

“And then, I think, we'll find out whether or not they're trying to get to us. Look, there's more of them than ever. They're certainly attracted to something—probably us. But the scanning fields are keeping them at bay.”

“Do you think they can get through our suits?”

“They shouldn't be able to. We're Class-X certified.”

“So was the
Norway
.”

“Mm. Point taken.”

“But if they can get through our suits,” Berryman continued, “then we have to assume we're already contaminated.”

“There is that too,” Korie acknowledged. “But I think, in the interests of knowledge, that we need to know just what the hell is going on here. How safe is it to proceed?” Korie switched off the scanners mounted on his helmet. The wavicles swirled inward toward him, but none actually alighted on his suit. Korie and Berryman looked at each other through the faceplates of their helmets. Neither had an answer to the unspoken question.

“Is it the scanners? Or the suits? Or a combination of the two? Or something else?”

Without being told, Wasabe Shibano reached up and switched off the scanners mounted on his chest and back. For a moment, nothing happened. The wavicles continued to swirl just beyond arm's length.

“Okay,” said Korie. “I think we're safe. It's the suits.” He nodded forward. “Let's get the log and get out of here.”

And then—as they moved, so did the wavicles. Suddenly agitated, they danced like a seizure of fireworks, like exploding fireflies—they bounced and twinkled and flickered and suddenly began alighting on all three of the starsuited figures, outlining each of them in faint sparkling luminescence.

“Oh, shit—” said Berryman, uncharacteristically.

Korie didn't say anything. But he was thinking it.
My second miscalculation. The price on this one is going to be high
.

Only Wasabe Shibano remained unaffected. He held out his hand in front of his helmet, staring at the unexpected radiance. The effect was ghostly and magical. The strange glow was reflected in his helmet pane and his eyes were wide with awe.

Korie looked at his own hands then, as did Berryman. The three of them looked at each other—in amazement as well as horror. All of them were gleaming with a myriad of twinkling points. They looked
enchanted
.

Their communicators were chattering in their ears unheard. Tor's
voice, Williger's, Brik's and Captain Parsons'—“Korie! Answer me! What's going on over there! What's happening!”

“It's all right,” Korie managed to say. His voice cracked. “We're ... surrounded. But we're not being hurt—”

“Get the log and get out of there.
That's an order
,” snapped Parsons. “No! Forget the log. Just get out of there. Now!”

“Our suits are holding—” Korie started to reassure them.

“But for how long?” Williger's gravelly voice cut in.

As if in answer to her question, Berryman shouted, “Oh, God—!” Korie whirled to look at him. He couldn't tell if it was a scream of fear or astonishment—but Berryman was
glowing
suddenly brighter! Shibano too! Korie looked to his own hands—the rest of his starsuit—he was gleaming as bright as the others!

He looked to them and saw—the sparkling motes were
seeping into their suits!
His own as well!

It wasn't painful—it was
interesting
. It
tingled
... the feeling was almost sexual. But underneath it was another thought.
Is this my third mistake? The final one?

“Hey!” laughed Shibano. “That tickles!” He looked to Berryman and Korie. “Doesn't it?”

Berryman looked uncomfortable—not because it hurt, but because he was already wondering about the medical implications. He looked to Korie.

Korie nodded an acknowledgment. “It's an odd sensation,” he admitted. “Like needing to sneeze all over your body at the same time—” The sparkling wash of light was diminishing now. The twinkles were vanishing into them.

Korie pointed to Berryman's scanner. “Take a reading.”

Berryman lifted up the device, switching it on. He pointed it at Shibano first.

“Oww—
that
doesn't tickle.”

Korie waggled his fingers in an “over here” gesture and Berryman pointed the scanner toward him. The tickling sensation turned painful then—like a series of low-level electric shocks. Korie held up his hand in an “Okay, you can stop now” gesture, and Berryman switched the scanner off.

“Did you feel it too?” Korie asked.

Berryman nodded grimly.

“Well, whatever it is—we've got it.”

“I can't identify it, sir. The
Star Wolf
will have to sort this one out.”

“There might be something in the records. HARLIE has probably already started searching the files. There's a thousand years of history to go through. It might take some time.”

On the Bridge of the
Star Wolf
, Parsons' face was ashen. She looked first to Williger, then to Brik.

Brik didn't look up from his workstation, but somehow he knew of her concern. “Already working on it, Captain,” he said. His voice had an angry note to it. Was he angry at Korie? Or her? Or just the universe in general? Korie had warned her of Brik's manner. Not important, Parsons told herself. Not important
now
. “Thank you, Mr. Brik,” she said noncommittally.

She turned to Williger. “The other half of the team?”

“They're keeping their scanners on,” the doctor growled.

“Will that protect them?”

Williger shrugged. An unsatisfactory answer.

Parsons rubbed her earlobe, frowning in thought. “All right. Tell them to proceed. As long as they're over there—let's get the log and find out what the hell those things are.”

“Aye, aye.”

On the
Norway
, Hodel received Brik's orders with a tight expression. They were seeing more of the wavicles up on “Broadway” too. Hodel didn't want to speculate aloud, but it looked as if the whole ship was infected. He moved forward, following Easton and Bach through a corridor that was both familiar and alien at the same time.

The
Norway
was functionally identical to the
Star Wolf
. Both were liberty ships, both built to the same blueprint; perhaps they had even come off the same assembly line. But the
Norway
had been outfitted for a different set of priorities, and her internal fittings were different enough to make the experience something like
deja vu
mixed with culture shock and a vaguely disquieting sense of disorientation.

“Lieutenant Hodel?” That was Bach. They had come to a sealed hatch. On the other side was the Bridge.

Easton knelt to examine the frame. “It's locked and glued.”

“Something on the other side?” asked Bach. “Or something on
this
side?” She glanced around.

Hodel shook his head in an “I don't know” gesture. He listened to Brik's advice in his earphone and relayed the decision. “This was sealed for a reason. Let's go back and see if there's another way in.”

They came back down the ladder and found Korie working at an open wall panel, trying to tap into the ship's autonomic systems. The fiber optics were dark—this part of the system was dead. Korie clipped his probe back to his belt and looked up as the others approached.

“‘Broadway' is sealed off,” Bach reported. “No survivors. No bodies. No ghosts either.”

“Wavicles?”

“Plenty of them.”

“You heard about our ... little phenomenon?” Korie asked.

“Saw it on our displays,” Hodel acknowledged. “You guys looked like Christmas trees.”

“Save it, Hodel. Were any of you ...
infected
?” There. He'd said it.

Hodel and Bach and Easton exchanged glances. They shook their heads.

“Well, keep your scanners turned on—but keep them on low, and pointed away from us. They're ... uncomfortable.”

“Aye, sir.”

“I should send you back.” Korie was thinking out loud.

“You should let us do our job, sir,” Bach said calmly. “We don't know that scanning fields are one hundred percent effective in keeping the wavicles away. Let's not assume anything. We could be just as infected.”

Korie stared at her sharply.
What's wrong with me? So many bad decisions?

“You're right,” he said. “Let's deal with the situation at hand and worry about detox later. That's Dr. Williger's worry, not ours.”

“Right,” said Hodel. “So let's give her something to worry about.”

“Mike—” Korie cautioned him. “Stay on purpose.”

Bach nodded upward, indicating the corridor above them. “Was that hatch sealed to keep something
in
—or
out?”

Korie shook his head, unwilling to guess. He was suddenly feeling uncertain in his judgment. He indicated the panel. “This is dead.” He waved vaguely toward the stern. “Let's see if we can get in through the keel, up through the Fire Control Bay.” They headed aft.

A thought occurred to Korie. “HARLIE?” he asked.

“Yes, Mr. Korie?”

“Do you have anything yet on the wavicles?”

HARLIE hesitated—

Korie caught it almost immediately.
HARLIE hesitated!

—and said, “I'm sorry. I have nothing useful.”

Nothing useful?
What did
that
mean? Did he have something or not? HARLIE wouldn't lie—
couldn't
lie. And yet ... he could
misdirect
. Korie
was about to ask more, but HARLIE interrupted his thought to add, “I am reviewing material with Dr. Williger now. If there is anything pertinent to your situation, she will brief you.”

He put the thought aside for the moment. They had come to a sealed security hatch, closing off the forward part of the keel from the rest of the ship. It too had been glued. Easton was already examining the frame.

“Can you cut it?” Korie asked.

“No problem,” Easton said. He was already unclipping the appropriate tools from his belt and mounting them onto his rifle. The weapon could double as a very efficient cutting laser.

“Brik?” Korie spoke softly to his helmet communicator. “What does mission control think?”

Brik didn't answer immediately. Conferring with Parsons? When he came back, his voice was uncommonly dispassionate. “Captain says it's your call.”

“Thanks,” said Korie. He thought for a moment, turning to look forward and aft, upward and down—as if there might be something he missed. He didn't want to make any more mistakes. Finally, he said, “My guess is that there was something in the nose of the ship that got out of control. They sealed it off, but not in time. So they kept retreating aftward and are now hiding behind the repulsor fields. I think it's safe to cut. Comments anyone? Arguments?”

Silence for a moment, while the mission team as well as the officers still on the
Star Wolf
considered Korie's words.