Dana Cartwright Mission 1: Stiletto (6 page)

“Cartwright, Dana J. MCS0779.”

“I did not! I’ve been on sleep period.” Dana didn’t wait for a response. She tapped the voice-badge pinned to her collar. “Security! This is Doctor Cartwright. There’s been a breach in the Critical Care computer system! Android…” Dana read the serial number off the android nurse’s breastplate. “It entered an order to administer a known toxin to a critical care patient — an error that might have proven fatal had I not arrived in time.”

Silence.

“Did you get all that?” Dana snapped.

“Affirmative, Doctor. Initiating full security investigation.”

“I want a security detail up here around the clock.” She had the authority to order more and would, once a full review began.

Kieran reached for her with his right hand, begging, “Please… SSID. Please.”

Dana nodded. “Have a Star Service Special Intelligence Division officer contact me, stat!”

“Roger.”

Dana tapped the pin, ending the transmission.

“This makes two tries,” Kieran rasped, still panic stricken and wide-eyed. “Please…” He continued telepathically, “Please don’t make me stay in here. I’m trapped.”

“I can’t risk… Kieran, you’re paralyzed. Until we can do surgery on your spine, you have to remain in a mobile unit.”
 

Before she finished he begged again and again.

And then an SSID officer stepped into the room.

“This is a scrubs only zone!” Dana scolded.

The man didn’t seem to care. He was wearing an official badge. “Colonel Jai?”

Dana watched Kieran’s reaction.
 

“Colonel Sierra? Is Cray safe?”

“For the moment…” The Star Service officer locked stares with her. “Doctor, we have no choice but to MAT transfer Colonel Jai to a secure location aboard
Navitor.
”

Dana shook her head. “No! Absolutely not!”

“Begging your pardon, Doctor, the choice is not yours to make.” The Galaxean’s face showed no emotion. For him, it was just a statement of fact.

She moved to block Sierra’s path. “You don’t understand the nature of Kieran’s injuries.”

“On the contrary, Doctor - we just accessed your entire patient history. I assure you, the sickbay aboard
Navitor
can provide all the surgical facilities and expertise necessary — beyond even that here at MCE.”

She turned to look down at Kieran for his decision. Telepathically he pleaded, “Come with me?”

“Is the Chief Surgeon aboard
Navitor
a neurosurgeon?” Dana demanded.

Sierra answered, “He is.”

“Then only if I can come and assist,” Dana responded.

Sierra replied tersely, “I cannot promise that.”

“Then my answer is, no,” Dana adamantly refused. “I cannot give my consent.”

Kieran shut his eyes, disappointed beyond words. “I do.”

Sierra walked around to stand beside the C-FIIN and tapped his voice-badge. “
Navitor
, MAT the coffin with Colonel Jai directly to sickbay.”

They vanished before Doctor Cartwright could protest further.

She felt a gut-wrenching pain and covered her mouth to stifle a moan, as if the suddenness of their parting wounded her heart. She blinked several times and breathed through the episode. “What was that?”

And then she realized, “It was because we were linked telepathically! Did the MAT transfer sever it? Is that even possible?”

Inspector Regis reviewed all of Chief Rocky Antonio and his crew’s still and video images from the crash site of the shuttle
Stiletto
. Then he went back to specific footage, slowing down the moving images, and logging people who appeared on the scene.

He watched very carefully the footage of Doctor Dana Cartwright crawling under the wreckage to offer medical aid to the injured pilot, and that of the man — apparently an usher — who had attempted to stop her; the Star Service Lt. Commander that Chief Rocky had tagged, and sent to the spaceport for an interview by FIT.
 
Regis reviewed the statement from Dirk Skeller - a rather hostile witness to be sure.

Dana logged out from the duty staff computer, claiming illness. She changed into a clean uniform, boots, and her multicolored cloak, pausing to deliberate the issue of the Sterillian blade. She ended up secreting it and the sheath in her boot. With her hair loose, she MAT’d to Patriarchs, a popular pub as far away from the Medical Center as was possible. At that hour of the morning, she shared the place only with the bartender and a handful of Star Service crewmembers just off the night shift at Station One.

He guessed, “You look like you need something strong. How about one of my vodka specials?”

She read his name badge. “Taylor… I…”

“Let me guess: You met the man of your dreams last night. And now he’s gone.”
 

“Not exactly, but…” She sighed.
 

The bartender nodded understandingly. “I’ll make it a double.”
 

He pointed her to a bar stool by the window, looking out on the snowy, majestic peaks of the Rocky Mountains, where she watched a magnificent bald eagle soaring high in the sky. Her dream memory revived her spirit, the way the juice and vodka calmed her.

Flying… The memory was so sweet. She could just imagine flying with Kieran, on a hang glider, soaring above the canyons, on the wind. Free… Together…

“Oh, Kieran!”

Inspector Regis pulled the MAT logs for the Observatory staff on the night of the crash. All personnel were accounted for.

How could that be?

He double-checked every usher. Skeller, of course, was transported by Chief Rocky Antonio’s tag to the spaceport FIT bay, where the Flight Investigation Team conducted an interview. All the other ushers remained on the roster until nearly midnight local, when the last of the guests left the facility. The lower level landing zone showed all vehicles and guests accounted for.

Yet, Regis stared at the list. “Ah, yes…the tower controller, Xavier Via. Odd, he logged out of the computer system and transported several minutes before shuttle
Stiletto
’s arrival. Odd. He left his post. He abandoned his station at the top of the hour.”
 

The duty roster did indicate he was to be relieved by an automaton — an android controller — and they did not have to officially log in or out.
 

Well, that seemed logical. All the guests were projected to have arrived and been in their seats.

“Yet…” Regis pulled the spaceport log.
Stiletto
had reported being delayed leaving.

“So why did Via log out and MAT transfer away three minutes before the guest of honor was to arrive if
Stiletto
reported being delayed?”

The timeline didn’t match.

Regis read again the transcript of Lt. Commander Dirk Skeller’s statement.

The Observatory management announced the delay at 19:04 local and made the decision to show the documentary film to keep the guests occupied.

Yet, the tower controller logged off and transported away, knowing surely that one more vessel was due to land.

The time record of Chief Rocky transporting Skeller was 19:12. The first image from the Chief’s camera was 19:08.

The tub logged Doctor Dana Cartwright’s credentials and iris scan at 19:02 and Lt. Commander Skeller’s at 19:07.

“Fascinating…”
 

18:58 Via logged out

19:00 Via cleared the shuttle Stiletto to land

19:01 Via teleports away

19:02 Dana Cartwright security check

19:06
Stiletto
crashes

19:07 Skeller security check

19:08 First image from Chief Antonio

19:12 Skeller tagged and transported

Regis pulled the crash siren log. Curious…

At 19:06 the siren was sounded manually.

Who pushed the button to engage the sirens if Via had already left?

The Automaton in the tower had no record of sounding the alarm.

“Curious…”

Regis scratched his chin. “Computer? Locate Commander Xavier Via?”

“Commander Via is off-world,” the mechanical voice of the Star Service Command computer returned.

“Computer? Locate Lt. Cmdr. Dirk Skeller?”

“Lieutenant Commander Skeller is off-world.”

Regis pursed his lips.

“Computer? Locate Doctor Dana Cartwright?”

“Doctor Cartwright is at coordinates 40°22
′
22
″
north 105°31
′
9
″
west. Elevation, 7522 feet. Contact?”

“Affirmative.”

Dana’s voice-badge signal interrupted her reverie. She reluctantly responded by tapping it.

“Doctor Cartwright, Investigator Regis of Star Service Command. Would you come to my office to answer a few questions?”

She declined, not so politely. “If you want to see me, come to mine.”

“Very well.”

The very slim Kentorian materialized inside a MAT bubble beside her bar table. It quickly dissolved and he took a furtive look around, deciding something he never revealed. He pointed to her drink and signaled the bartender, “Bring me one of those.” Then he sat on the barstool opposite her, set down his tote, and trained his silver eyes on her mismatched blue/brown ones.

Dana sipped her drink but said nothing. After his drink arrived, Regis began the interrogation, setting a padlet down on the table between them.

“You were at the Observatory before the shuttle,
Stiletto
, arrived?”

She nodded.

“Forgive me, Doctor. I must record your verbal answers.” He pointed to the padlet.

“Yes, Inspector. I was at the Observatory to attend the lecture,” Dana answered.

“Had you been inside?”

“No, sir. I stood on the upper level lookout to watch the moon rise.”

He asked more questions and she answered honestly, until Regis tapped the padlet and a still image from a surveillance camera filled the screen. “Do you recognize this man?”

She did. “He attempted to stop me from crawling under the wreckage.”

“He says you assaulted him.”

Dana scoffed. “He pulled on my boot and when he tugged on my hair, I gave him a swift kick. Should press charges for interfering with a first responder.”

Regis chuckled, “He’s a Star Service commander. Was acting as an usher for the lecture.”

“I don’t care if he’s god, he interfered with the performance of my duty,” Dana repeated.

“Do you recognize this man?” Regis showed her another still shot.

“No, sir.”

“He claims he walked away from the shuttle crash.”

Dana stared, recalling clearly the scene last night on the landing zone. “He’s a liar. There was no one on the landing zone but a dozen security tubs and me. And no one walked away from that crash.”

“He said there were six robo-droids.”

“There were twelve, a full security detail. They accosted me because of my mismatched eyes,” she groaned and took a long sip of her drink.

Regis snickered. “They are unusual… Your eyes.”

She ignored the comment.

“You are, by far, the most credible of the witnesses I have interviewed.”

“I have a photographic memory,” she admitted.

“How many of the drone crafts hit the shuttle?”

“Two.”

“How high was the shuttle?”

“Impossible to know from my location,” she countered. “The Observatory surveillance cameras should tell you.”

“The recordings are, suspiciously, blank,” Regis admitted.

“Blank?” Dana scowled, the alcohol affecting the level of her vocal response. “That’s blatantly impossible. The place was packed. A veritable A-list of Capitol City’s who’s who.”

The inspector downed the remainder of his drink. “Yes, well…” He collected his padlet and stuffed it inside the tote bag. “So, how is Colonel Jai?”

“Ask the Chief Surgeon aboard
Navitor
. I was removed from the case.” That wasn’t quite accurate, but seemed to satisfy the Inspector.

“Well, thank you, Doctor.” Regis took up his things, tapped the voice-badge on his collar, and vanished.

The bartender frowned. “He didn’t pay!”

Dana shrugged. “Put it on my tab. And, while you are at it, bring me another.”

After leaving Doctor Cartwright and returning to his office, Inspector Regis reviewed the transcript of their conversation. He gained a great deal of respect for the petite young doctor.

A photographic memory — very like Chief Antonio’s photographs and recordings — did not lie. Well, not often.

Logs, however, could easily be manipulated.

Regis settled back in his straight-backed wooden chair at his very modest trestle, composite board desk and mulled over the evidence so far.

Flight Investigation could not confirm or deny mechanical failure. They insinuated the conclusion: pilot error.

However, as Doctor Cartwright pointed out, two of the small drones struck the sides of the shuttle.

“That never happens!”

Regis tapped his padlet and called up a search of Alphan Blade Class shuttles having drone escort collisions.

Based on his search, there had never, EVER, been a crash due to drone malfunction.

Regis again requested an interview with Colonel Kieran Jai. The computer came back, “Colonel Jai is off-world.”

That seemed to be the standard response.

It grated on the normally calm, cool and collected Kentorian.

Kieran moaned as the Chief Surgeon of the
Navitor
removed the bubble protective gloves from both his hands.
 

“Left will require extensive surgery. Right minor.” Then came the verdict on the spine, “The damage is complete. No neurosurgeon can make a guarantee of even a fifty percent chance of recovery. I’ll be honest, I think roughly a twenty percent chance surgery will restore your spine.”

Kieran blinked. “Twenty? Fifty? That’s unacceptable.”

Doctor Arturo Garcia shrugged. “I have to be honest with you.”

“Get me out of this coffin!” Kieran demanded.

“Can’t… You need it to handle bodily functions.” Garcia programmed a DIA-dermal injector. “I can sedate you or…”