Kas growled. This was really just a test to see if the weapons functioned, but there was no way he was going to let that damned target get away. He was hampered by his space suit, but began playing the console as though it were a musical instrument. Gunnery had always been one of his favorite activities. Still, the target managed to evade him for nearly thirty seconds. Then he triggered a particle beam and immediately followed it with a laser bolt. The target jinked away from the particle beam and directly into the laser bolt. Kas snorted and jerked a nod as the target disintegrated. Then he breathed a huge sigh of relief. If another vessel showed up now, at least he could give them a fight. Then he chuckled and decided that he would get some refresher weapons practice as soon as the mission was completed.
He set up a weapons watch schedule on the dead ship’s bridge. There was some minor complaining, but even the most dedicated bitcher had to admit that the huge ship’s awesome weaponry was a comfort.
It was another thirty hours before Lady Jane pronounced Ro-Lecton sufficiently skilled with a suit to go over to the derelict. “And am I ever glad!” She exclaimed. “That pompous windbag isn’t stupid, but I’d swear he was purposely acting obtuse just to annoy me!”
Kas grinned. “You only got half of it. I got the rest — his incessant demands to be taken over to the Rekesh immediately if not sooner, and damn the suit training.” He sighed. “Well, I promised to take him over to the Rekesh personally and he’d probably get all insulted again if I tried to pawn him off on someone else. Unless you’d like to volunteer…” he trailed off hopefully.
“No chance!” The answer was immediate and firm. “The less I see of that little… man, the better for all concerned — including him.” She frowned and her tone turned serious. “Watch out for him, Kas. He’s been pumping all of us for information about you. He doesn’t like you — and when that kind of stredd doesn’t like someone he’ll go to any length to cause them trouble.”
The little doctor was excited as a kid about the prospect of finally going to the huge ship. His enthusiasm even overcame his pomposity, and he seemed to regard it as a great adventure.
Kas had been aware that Ro-Lecton was gathering information to use against him but there was little he could do about it. At the moment, he needed Ro-Lecton too much. He’d been planning to have a discussion with the little man, but he decided to wait until they returned from the Rekesh.
Finally, they were ready. “Now remember, Doctor,” he began for the dozenth time, “keep your safety line clipped to me at all times except when you’re jumping across.”
Ro-Lecton nodded wearily. “Yes, Commodore. And I won’t even think of jumping without it being clipped to the guide line between the ships.”
Kas started to reply, then realized that whatever he was going to say had already been said many times. He grinned and clipped his line to the guide line. “Then follow me!” He shouted. He flicked off the switch controlling his boot magnets, and jumped easily across the ten meters separating the ships. Halfway across he flipped himself so as to contact the cruiser feet first, and switched on his boot magnets.
When Kas felt his boots contact the cruiser’s hull he twisted to watch as the doctor began to jump. Ro-Lecton crouched a bit to push off but was slow to switch off his boot magnets. As a result, he didn’t have enough momentum to cross the ten meters between the ships and bobbed helplessly around the guide line at its midpoint, crying “Commodore! Help! Help!”
“Easy! Easy!” Kas tried to soothe the panicked man. “Relax, Doctor. You’re not in trouble. Calm down.”
Kas’ soothing must have worked — the suited figure stopped flailing in panic. “Well? What do I do now?” Ro-Lecton asked, an edge of panic showing under the pompous impatience in his tone.
“Take it easy, Doctor,” Kas repeated. “You’re not in trouble. Just grab your safety line at your waist. That’s it. Now pull yourself along it until you reach the big guide line. Good. Now just start pulling yourself along the guide line. That’s it. See? No problem.”
Ro-Lecton’s heavy, rasping breathing began to slow as he lost the edge of panic he’d been feeling. “Rather more excitement than I’d expected,” he commented in an almost-normal tone.
Kas coached him through reversing his position so he’d hit feet-first, and reminded him to turn on the boots’ magnets. Kas grinned at the sigh of relief that escaped the doctor as his boots stuck to the cruiser’s hull.
Ro-Lecton indicated the suited body tethered outside the airlock. “Well,” he began, “That’ll be one cadaver that won’t be hard to retrieve.”
Kas stiffened. “That’s one cadaver that you won’t be retrieving, doctor. The Emperor is anxiously awaiting Lieutenant Fan-Jertril’s arrival, so he can award him a posthumous Empire Star and a ceremonial funeral. He was one of the last three survivors, and the Rekesh ’s last Commanding Officer.”
Ro-Lecton frowned. “You say one of the last three? Then there are two others. That’s all right then. You must understand, Commodore. I’m going to need to autopsy some of the earliest victims, and very importantly, the very last to die. I gather that the last three didn’t die of the plague?”
Kas frowned. “Sorry. I forgot that you don’t know the story. Yes, there should be two others, in suits, at the ships other two personnel locks. Frankly, we haven’t checked. But they’re the ones that opened the ship to space.”
Ro-Lecton sighed. “Yes. I have mixed emotions about them opening the ship to space. Oh, I understand their reasoning. Of course, they were assuming that the infection agent was airborne, which we don’t know. But it greatly complicates my job. It would be much easier if I had a sample of the live virus, or whatever it is.”
Kas shuddered. “I’d just as soon you never had a live sample, Doctor. It killed almost two thousand people in a matter of weeks.” He paused. “But if you need contaminated atmosphere, I’ll have my crew check the other locks to make sure they’ve been opened. One of the others might have lost his nerve and not opened her. Even if they did, and the entire ship is in vacuum some contaminated atmosphere should remain in the last men’s space suits — though the oxygen might be depleted.”
“Would they still be holding air after a hundred years?”
Kas shrugged and pointed. “That one is. And there’s been nothing that could degrade the suits except micrometeorites. You might say they’ve been stored in vacuum.” He started into the lock. “Prepare yourself, Doctor,” he continued. “Three thousand people don’t just lie down and die quietly. This ship saw two mutinies, riots, and even drunken orgies. The bodies were gathered up, as I mentioned — but there are bloodstains and signs of battle everywhere we’ve been aboard her.” He hesitated. “The survivors were too sick to worry about cleaning up the mess.”
Kas saw the doctor’s grim nod through his clear faceplate. “I’m an epidemiologist, Commodore,” he replied. “I’ve seen the aftermath of plagues before. I was in charge of a team on Acqueon.”
Kas shuddered. Acqueon had been a settled, populous planet — a trading hub. Somehow, a plague had broken out. The Empire sent immediate help, but the final survival rate had been just over five percent. Those few survivors had been relocated to other planets. There were simply too few keep civilization going on the planet. Acqueon was still uninhabited thirty years later, despite the fact that the plague had been identified and a cure found. The only visitors to Acqueon now were the particularly brave or particularly foolish salvagers that sneaked past the picket buoys to strip the empty cities. Maybe Ro-Lecton was more than a pompous dilettante after all.
The design of stellar class battle cruisers hadn’t changed significantly in more than two centuries. Kas didn’t need maps or schematics — she was identical to the Ka-Tora, on which Kas had served as a Lieutenant Commander. So he was able to lead Ro-Lecton straight to the sickbay and its attached bio lab.