Wilkinson turned around. “Daniels,” he said, “take these containers to the Ark Project and mark them for transfer to permanent storage. At no time are these containers to be out of your care until they’re permanently stowed. Is that clear?”
“Absolutely, sir. We’ll report back to you when it’s finished,” Daniels said.
Wilkinson knew the soldier could be trusted, but he still had a lot of favors to call in to make this work. He would have liked to have done more. Lord knows Connor deserved better than this, and he hoped that one day Connor would forgive him for what was about to happen. But . . . better to ask forgiveness than permission.
“Carry on,” Wilkinson said and returned to the small office.
“Ship’s log,” Wilkinson said. The ship’s computer chimed, indicating the log was open. “Indianapolis was the first ship to find the wreckage of Chronos Station. Preliminary scans indicate there were no survivors or ships detected nearby. We’ll be conducting an investigation and reporting our findings.
“Computer, package the log and beam a transmission back to COMCENT.”
Chapter Five
Connor felt something tugging him from a deep sleep. The more awake he became, the more he became aware of the tingling pain he felt in his hands and feet. It felt as if his eyes were pinned down by steel weights and refused all his attempts to open them. There was something hard in his throat. He heard the sound of muffled voices speaking but couldn’t understand them. Connor tried to cough, and his throat muscles worked to expel the hard rod that was in his mouth. He raised his hands, but someone held him down. The tube in his throat was yanked out. He winced and coughed weakly, spitting out a foul-tasting liquid as someone helped roll him to his side.
“Give yourself a few moments to adjust. We’ve just pulled you from stasis,” a woman’s voice said.
Connor couldn’t tell if he was just having a really bad dream or if he’d awakened to a nightmare where he was trapped in his own body, unable to move.
“Can he answer questions yet?” a man’s voice shrilled.
Though Connor couldn’t open his eyes, the man’s tone grated on his nerves.
“Not yet, Dr. Baker. He’s only just come around,” the woman said.
Connor heard someone stomp across the floor.
“I don’t know how this could have happened. Dr. Peter Faulkner, the eminent planetary scientist, was supposed to be in his pod. That’s not him,” the man said.
Sounds of footsteps stomped closer to Connor.
“Hey, can you hear me? We need to know your name.”
“Doctor, please. He just needs a few minutes for the stasis drugs to wear off. We’ve got revival protocols to follow. Perhaps you should step outside.”
“Don’t get snippy with me, Kara.”
“Of course, Dr. Baker,” Kara said.
Connor was gently rolled onto his back, and the bed he was in started to rise. It was hard to think. He pushed his eyes open, and it was like trying to see through thick syrup. Connor squeezed his eyes shut and moaned. Someone pressed a cool wet towel on his face and wiped the gooey substance from his eyes. Connor opened them and saw a young woman looking down at him. She smiled.
“Take it easy and give the revival cocktail some time to work. You’re likely to feel a bit off until it starts to kick in,” Kara said.
Connor cleared his throat. Everything about his body felt wrong.
“Drink this. It will help,” Kara said and put a straw in his mouth.
Connor sucked down the liquid, which contained a faint trace of cinnamon. He drank a few mouthfuls and coughed because his throat refused to work properly. A thin man with beady eyes glared at him.
“Do you know where you are?”
“Doctor—” Kara began.
Dr. Baker swung his beady eyes toward the woman. “Thank you, Kara. I’ll take it from here. I’m sure you have other patients to check on.”
Kara glanced at Connor regretfully. “I’ll be just outside,” she said and left the room.
Dr. Baker walked to the side of the bed, snapping his fingers in front of Connor’s face and then by his ears. He shined a bright light in Connor’s face. Connor tried to raise his arm, and the doctor glanced down.
“Motor control and response to stimuli are normal,” Dr. Baker said. He leaned down. “So I know you can hear me. I don’t know who the hell you are, but you’d better start answering questions.”
“What are you talking about?” Connor said, his voice sounding gravelly in his own ears.
“This is taking too long,” Dr. Baker said and crossed the room. He pulled a syringe from a container and filled it with clear liquid from a vial.
Connor tried to wave the doctor off, but he was too weak.
“Now, this will sting a little,” Dr. Baker said and jabbed the thick needle into Connor’s thigh.
White fiery pain shot through his system as if there were lightning burning through his veins. Connor screamed and grabbed the doctor by his shirt, pulling him in. Dr. Baker’s eyes widened, and Connor growled as he shoved the doctor across the room. Whatever the doctor had given him had made him able to move, so Connor stood up as the doctor turned around. He limped over and grabbed the doctor, pulling him off balance while driving his knee into the doctor’s chest.
“I’m sick of doctors sticking me with stuff, asshole,” Connor said.
He shoved the stunned doctor into the wall, and the beady-eyed tyrant collapsed to the floor.
Connor became aware of a sharp pain in his thigh and saw that the syringe was still in his leg. He yanked it out and clutched it like a knife. “Let’s see how you like being stuck.”
Connor charged across the room, fist raised, but the door to the room opened and someone tackled him to the floor. Strong hands grabbed his arm, and he let go of the syringe. A man in a blue uniform tried to pin Connor down, but Connor twisted around and punched the guy in the stomach multiple times, then drove his palm up into the man’s face. The man fell off him and Connor was on his feet instantly. There were screams coming from the hallway, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. Something hit him in the back, and a jolt of electricity brought Connor to his knees. He collapsed forward and his cheek slapped against the floor. A small amount of drool escaped his mouth and he groaned.
“What’s going on here?” someone asked with the voice of authority.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Quinn. I left him alone with Dr. Baker and then I heard shouting coming from the room,” Kara said.
“Alright. Let’s get him up in that bed. Get the restraints on him,” Dr. Quinn said.
Connor felt himself being lifted and taken back to his bed. Metallic straps raced across his body, securing him in place. He lay there, knowing the effects of the stunner used on him would only last for a short while. He watched as they carried Dr. Baker out and felt a small bit of satisfaction when he saw blood dripping down the doctor’s face from a shallow gash on his forehead. He was really starting to hate doctors. Connor closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Later on, Connor woke up again. He was alone in the room and the metallic restraints were still wrapped around his body so he couldn’t move. The door opened and an older woman walked in, her long brown hair pulled back. She regarded him like a mother would a misbehaving child.
“You’re awake. Have you calmed down?”
Connor nodded. He didn’t know how long he’d slept, but he felt more refreshed than he had before.
“Good. I’m Ashley Quinn, head medical doctor on the Ark.”
Great. Another damn doctor. “As long as you don’t go sticking me with any needles, we’ll get along fine,” Connor said.
Ashley’s lips curved. “Dr. Baker’s bedside manner leaves much to be desired. I’m sorry about that.”
“You can say that again,” Connor replied.