He must have used that one.
Although, technically, Hawkes could have used any console on the bridge to do what he had done, Rusty considered, he most likely did it from the command console. For him to use any other station on the bridge, except perhaps for Tactical, might have aroused interest. So far, no one on duty during that shift had reported him as being anywhere other on the command deck, other than for the occasional—and no doubt precisely timed, Rusty thought—circuit around all of the bridge stations.
He tapped this comm unit. “Bridge.”
“What is it, Chief?” Elizabeth’s voice asked from the speaker. It carried a definite undertone of expectation.
“Is Karr still at Tactical?”
There was a momentary pause before Elizabeth answered.
“Yes,” she replied. “She’s been there since the start of her shift.”
“Have her pull the logs from last shift,” Rusty told her. “I’ll be back up there in a few.”
“Okay,” Elizabeth agreed, sounding puzzled. “Did you find something?”
“Not yet,” Rusty told her. “And maybe I won’t,” he went on. “But at least it might something. On my way.”
He shut off his comm unit and stared down at the tiny diagnostic display thoughtfully.
“Maybe you did leave us some breadcrumbs,” he murmured, and then rose and headed back to the bridge.
#
Hope remained near the torn section of the bulkhead, staring into the dark. Light streamed in from the corridor through the rift, forming a diffuse halo around her feet, but it failed to penetrate very far into the space of the cargo bay. It did not matter, for she did not require it. Her large, dark eyes were well adapted to darkness. While she could not discern details, she could clearly make out the forms of the five crew members—the Captain, two Engineers, and two Security Officers—as they made their respective ways along the interior perimeter of the Cargo Bay One.
She had placed the portable medical on the deck next to her feet. She could retrieve it quickly, should it be needed. It was unnecessary to continue holding onto it while she waited for the others to return with the Tactical Officer.
They would return with the Tactical Officer, she knew. Even taking into account the Tactical Officer’s combat skills and techniques, he would be significantly outnumbered. What concerned Hope more was how many of the others might be injured during the process of capturing the Tactical Officer. His abilities as a warrior were equal to—in some cases even surpassed—those of most experienced Star Bloods. What made this even more remarkable was that the Human Tactical Officer had achieved this proficiency without the added benefit of the symbiotic armor that the Star Bloods possessed.
Hope heard voices, first the Captain’s and then Security Officer Bayer. Engineer Choy had not spoken; neither had Engineer Owens or Security Officer Nang. Hope determined that, if they had, they spoke at a volume too low for her to hear from this distance.
She studied the surfaces of the cargo containers, looking for signs of the Tactical Officer’s passage through the space. They offered many places in which he could conceal himself. It would be a logical strategy.
After several minutes, she ended her survey of the containers. She had discovered no obvious indication of his presence within the cargo bay. That did not mean, of course, that he was not there, only that he had been very adept at preventing his path and location from being easily determined. She found that reassuring in a way, as it meant that the Tactical Officer had not entirely lost his reason and knowledge. Whatever it was that drove his current, very atypical, behavior had apparently not wholly stripped his mind from him.
She listed in her mind the diagnostic tests that she would want to conduct on the Tactical Officer once he was transferred to the Infirmary. Briefly, she considered requesting that the Lieutenant Ramsey begin preparing the equipment. She decided not to, as she thought it more prudent to both keep all communications channels clear and to avoid making any unnecessary noise.
Turning, she attempted to locate the cargo bay’s main control panel. Engineer Owens had been unable to reactivate the illumination systems. It was unlikely, Hope decided, that she would have any greater success than had the Engineer. While she possessed some understanding of how the panel operated, she knew that she did have the knowledge that the Engineers had. That was not her function.
Having no other immediate tasks to perform, Hope began to examine the surface of the cargo containers again when she heard noise from the other side of the torn bulkhead. She stopped and quickly considered the hypothesis that the Tactical Officer might have misled their search for him and had concealed himself somewhere in area outside the cargo bay hatch. A quick analysis of the sound of the footsteps, even distorted from passing through the bulkhead, informed her that they did not match those of the Tactical Officer. Neither the cadence nor echo approximated his stride. The most likely source was the Chief Engineer.
Hope was surprised by his presence, as she had not heard the Captain summon him. Based on his behavioral profile, though, she could see that it was predictable that he might arrive without being requested to do so. She said nothing, though, waiting to see whether he could attempt to speak with her. He moved around out in the corridor, but said nothing to her. Several times, she heard him come close to the opening on the other side, but he never entered it. Hope thought it unlikely that he would attempt to do so, as she estimated that his physical bulk would be unable to pass through the opening without damaging components within the bulkhead, parts of his own body, or both.
She heard him speak several times. None of those communications seemed intended for her or anyone else within the cargo bay. After several minutes, the echo of his footsteps indicated that he was departing. For where, Hope did not know. She did not have enough information on which to base a hypothesis. The most likely locations would be the Main Engineering deck or the Bridge, as it was too soon for his duty shift to have ended.
Resuming her original posture and position, Hope once again stared into the darkness of the cargo hold. Unless either of the teams had been delayed, they should encounter each other within the next four minutes. Hope expected to receive some form of communications from the Captain at that time, even if it was only to report that the two teams had met. Until that moment, Hope would continue to wait.
#
Streams of light played across the surfaces of the pillars around him and along the ceiling above. None of them very close, as they did little to brighten his sanctuary. The voices, though, those had become louder, come closer. They were coming nearer, but not on any direct path, so he knew that they had not found him.
The pace and sound of their footsteps told him that they were human, or nearly so. They moved on two feet, which meant that it was unlikely that they were merely animals. While he did not discount the advantages of pure instinct, he knew that it could be easily fooled—or at least redirected. Intelligence, however, was another matter. That implied reason and the ability to plan. They would be more difficult to distract, to misdirect. He would need to be careful and cautious.
Listening, he had followed the sounds of their footsteps. They had separated into two groups, perhaps with the intent to flank him. They would fail in that, he knew, for he had chosen his refuge well. In his mind, he could envision the approximate location of each group. Having completed their exploration of the inner perimeter of the enormous cave, they were about to meet again. He had to make a choice.
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