The Refugee (The Korvali Chronicles Book 1) (25 page)

Catherine sat there for a moment. “Permission to speak freely, Sir.”
 

Steele hesitated before nodding.

“Sir, I don’t think it’s fair to be held back from a good opportunity that this organization encourages simply because I run my lab. That’s essentially punishing me for all the years of hard work that earned me the privilege of running the lab in the first place.”

“That is what you agreed to when you signed up for this mission.”

“No, Sir, it isn’t. With all due respect, I signed up for this mission to learn new things and to grow.” She didn’t go so far as to mention Dr. Edelstein or how dull her work was.
 

Steele’s eyes narrowed. “If you mean to say that my assignments aren’t up to your standards, I must warn you, Lieutenant, that I am perfectly willing to offer you more of them, leaving you even less time to pursue other goals.”
 

Catherine knew that would be her only warning. She tried another tactic, and softened her tone. “I’m happy with the assignments, Sir. My point is that this opportunity would provide what I’m looking for and wouldn’t harm the quality of my work. The new things I learn could even make me a better scientist, or could benefit the research group in other ways. Isn’t that one of the purposes of the program?” She knew it was a stretch, but she was out of arguments.
 

Steele rolled his eyes. “Don’t be absurd, Lieutenant.”

“What’s absurd, Sir?”
 

“You,” he said. “If you were ever going to conduct science that is beyond the mediocre, whether under my command or not, you would’ve showed signs of it by now. The answer is no, and this conversation is done.”

Catherine felt her face grow hot. She looked at Steele for several moments, stunned. “Did you just insult my work?” Before he could offer any response, she said, “Go fuck yourself.”

Steele’s angry expression turned to surprise. “What did you just say, Scientist?” Despite trying to sound threatening, even calling her by a moniker that was considered disrespectful to someone of her rank, he couldn’t hide his astonishment.

“You heard me.” She stood up, her hands clenched in fists, her heart beating quickly and adrenaline flooding her. She turned and walked out.
 

“You’re not dismissed!” Steele bellowed after her.
 

Catherine kept going, heading back to the stairwell. She was too angry to do anything else. And she got no further than the second flight of stairs before two MAs stopped her. They escorted her to the first deck, passing several other crewmembers along the way, all of whom gave her a curious stare. Once at the brig, an MA entered a code and a door opened. She entered the tiny cell as the door shut behind her and made a latching sound.

She sat alone in the small, windowless room, the hum of the ship’s engines more pronounced than ever. She began to deliberate over just how much trouble she was in. At best, she would face inquiry and a letter of reprimand. At worst, she would face the end of her career with the Space Corps. Whatever the outcome, she no longer cared.
 

After two hours passed, an MA entered Catherine’s cell and cleared her to return to her quarters, where she must remain until she was served. Once escorted to her quarters, Catherine sat down to contact her father. But she hesitated; perhaps she would delay telling him until she had more information.
 

Legal served her the following morning; she was charged with violating Article 67 of the Space Corps Code of Justice—Disrespect of a Superior Officer. Until resolved, she would be restricted to her quarters, suspended from duty, and denied access to the VirNet and all ship networks, with the exception of her personal network.

Just before 1400, her doorbell sounded.

“What the hell happened?” Tom asked, his expression half surprise and half amusement. He turned a chair backward and sat down.
 

“How did you know?”

Tom gave her a dubious look. “Except for a couple of fights among drunken soldiers, you’re the only person who’s visited the brig since this mission started. Everyone knows. That, and Kovsky saw you being escorted and came and told us.”

Catherine related the entire story, leaving out no detail. “Steele doesn’t like me, okay. He gives me stupid assignments, alright. He prevents me from participating in cross training, fine. But he denigrates my work? I turned down a position at the Peloni Institute to come here and have my body of work insulted by that idiot? Hell, no!” She paused, giving Tom a look. “And if you tell me I’m overreacting, or that it’s no big deal… like you did about Eshel… I’ll kick the shit out of you.”
 

“Easy, soldier!” Tom said with raised eyebrows. “Jesus. Unlike your breakup with Eshel, in this case I actually know the whole story, which means I can be more helpful. Get my drift?”

Catherine took a deep breath, trying to quell her anger. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t see this coming, C. Maybe it’s my fault—I’m the one who kept pushing you to get some soldier training.”

Catherine shook her head. “No. This was inevitable. I don’t belong here. I should never have come back.” She sat down and ran her hands through her hair. “The only thing keeping me here now is you and Snow. I love you guys, but it’s not enough.”

Tom sighed. “Don’t give up yet, C. Yeah, you’re gonna pay for saying that. But that asshole threw the first punch and that type of shit isn’t tolerated anymore. The good thing is, since you pissed off Steele, you can still come work for me, or you could work for Snow, who said that O’Leary might be okay with it. I know it isn’t what you want, but it’s better than leaving.” He stood up. “Let me see what I can find out. Until then, relax and don’t do anything stupid. And don’t be contacting Jimmy to say you’re coming home.”
 

Catherine chuckled. “Okay.”

In the bridge ready room, Yamamoto sat down with Captain Ferguson and Ov’Raa, who read their documents about the incident between Commander Steele and Catherine.
 

Ferguson sighed and looked up from her pad. “So we’ve had our first Article 67 incident. Frankly, I’m surprised it took this long.” Ov’Raa smiled at the Captain’s comment. “If Steele wants a letter of reprimand, let’s get it done quickly. We’re still not far from home and a transport could retrieve Lieutenant Finnegan at relatively little cost.”

Yamamoto shook his head. “I don’t believe this warrants formal reprimand, Captain. Catherine’s comment was disrespectful and insubordinate, but Commander Steele is not without blame. He offered a personal insult that was highly inappropriate. And from what I’ve heard, the Commander has a documented history of insulting his scientists.”

Ferguson looked at Ov’Raa, as if waiting for him to corroborate Yamamoto’s claims.
 

Ov’Raa nodded. “Yes, Captain, Commander Steele’s record shows two documented incidents, although both occurred years ago…”

Ferguson put her hands up. “So? It’s okay for her to tell her superior officer to go fuck himself because he hurt her feelings?”

Yamamoto shook his head. “Of course not. However, the Commander did more than hurt Catherine’s feelings. He made a personal insult by denigrating her work as a scientist—”

“Maybe her work isn’t up to par, Suko.”

“Steele’s reports indicate that she completes all her assignments satisfactorily. Moreover, I am told that Catherine turned down an offer from a renowned research institute in order to take this mission. Employment there is extremely competitive, only offered to those who show significant promise in the field. I’m told she’s quite skilled.”

“Let me guess,” Ferguson said. “Eshel told you all of this?”

Yamamoto shook his head. “Eshel has said nothing. Tom mentioned the job offer, and the rest I got from the institute itself. They made it clear that with adequate funding they would still take her after the mission.”

“Maybe they should take her now,” Ferguson muttered, sitting back in her chair. “You want to forgo the letter.”

“She has a spotless conduct record.”

Ferguson gave a disapproving look. “You’re quick to come to her aid again, Suko.”

“It’s my job to know the character of those on our ship.”

Ferguson turned back to Ov’Raa. “Do you agree with the Commander’s conclusions?”

Ov’Raa clasped his thick hands together, a pale blue flush coming over him. “I do not have all the information that the Commander does,” he began, nodding to Yamamoto. “Yet I have noticed that Commander Steele can be quite… harsh.” He smiled. “And I do not believe he fully supports the ETP. Records show that he hasn’t allowed his subordinates to partake in it, nor has he allowed any soldier to cross train under his command.” He paused. “I recommend, Captain, that we avoid formal reprimand and issue a warning to both parties, subject to more serious punishment if not heeded.”

Ferguson smiled at Ov’Raa’s magnanimity. “She insulted her commanding officer, Commander. She must pay a steeper price than he does.”

“Yes, Captain. A formal apology, then, for Lieutenant Finnegan. And probation.”

Ferguson pushed out her chair. “Let Legal know what we’ve decided. Make sure those two stay out of each other’s way for a while.” She got up and left the ready room.
 

First thing in the morning, Catherine arrived at Steele’s office to deliver her apology to Steele. The apology was brief but very formal, and would’ve made any old school brass proud. But everyone knew, perhaps Steele most of all, that she wasn’t the least bit sorry for what she’d said. Steele listened to her apology with the same expression he always had when dealing with her; once she finished, he responded only by saying, “Get out.”

At the lab, Catherine sat at her desk and looked over the results of some analyses that Varan had conducted. One of them didn’t make sense. When she emerged from her office to ask Varan about it, he was talking animatedly with two other Derovians. She realized they were Coran and Dorel, two of Eshel’s bunkmates. Upon seeing her, they ceased talking and stood straighter.
 

“Lieutenant Finnegan!” Coran said. “Hello to you!”
 

“Yes, Lieutenant!” Dorel chimed in. “Most excellent to see you!”

She smiled at the sight of them, reminded of Eshel’s bafflement at their sweet natures. “Hi guys. It’s good to see you, too. I just have a quick question for Varan.” She showed Varan the problem. It turned out the report was missing a page, so he resent it to her. As she returned to her office, she heard shuffling footsteps approaching; when she turned, Coran and Dorel stood before her.
 

“Lieutenant Finnegan,” Coran began, appearing unsure of himself. “We have a… special concern.”

“About Eshel,” Dorel said.
 

“Yes,” Coran went on. “When Eshel first came aboard, he would… sometimes… make noise in the night—”

“Like Suzuki does when he has a nightmare,” Dorel added.

“Yes,” Coran said. “And, now, since Eshel has… has stopped visiting you… it is happening again—”
 

“But it is worse!” Dorel said. “We try to help him, but he will not let us!”

Catherine listened to the men, recalling Eshel’s occasional nocturnal episodes. “He does that sometimes,” Catherine replied quietly. “I don’t know why. But I wouldn’t worry… if he needed help, he would ask for it.”

The brothers glanced at one another, appearing relieved. “Thank you, Lieutenant Finnegan,” Coran said, waving goodbye as they left.
 

Catherine sat there for a few minutes, pondering yet another thing she hadn’t understood about Eshel. A chirp snapped her out of her reverie. It was probably a message from Tom about her coming to the next poker game. It would be her first in a long time.
 

But the message wasn’t from Tom. The message was encrypted, and it didn’t indicate who’d sent it. Puzzled, Catherine began to attach her contactor to her network. Then she stopped herself.
Not here
.

Back in her quarters, she downloaded the message to her personal network, waited for it to pass scans, and began the decryption process. The message’s encryption method was intricate, each step leading to another and another. It took her a significant amount of time to wade through the numerous, maze-like steps. She’d never seen anything like it.
 

Once decrypted, she saw that the message included a large compressed file. When she decompressed it, she found a long list of files, enough to fill her entire viewer. A quick glance at the file suffixes indicated that the files were emails, with the exception of two very large image files.
 

She opened the most recent email file: it was a message from Commander Steele, written to a Dr. Albert Vanyukov. Catherine thought she recognized that name, but couldn’t recall why. A quick search on her viewer answered her question; Vanyukov was a professor and geneticist at Stanford University. A further search revealed that Vanyukov and Steele had done their graduate training in genetics together and were coauthors on several papers from decades ago.
 

December 2

Albert,

I have the files we need to move forward with this project. Let us speak more on the topic when I arrive on the eighth.
 

James

When Catherine checked the dates of all the emails, she saw that they spanned more than a year, the first one dating back to two Octobers ago. Just after Eshel boarded
Cornelia
. Catherine read the next email, and the next, until she’d read them all. By the time she finished reading them, she knew exactly what was in those two image files. And opening them only confirmed her suspicions.

Catherine projected the first image, zooming in, then zooming out, rotating it in one direction, and then the other. She ran the usual scans and found DNA alterations on chromosomes six, seven, and eighteen. There was a familiar pattern of changes to the epigenome. She called up the files from her previous scans; the results were identical. Just as she’d suspected, it was Eshel’s genetic material, the same image from when Eshel had arrived on the ship.