Date: Sun, 20 May 2007 20:59:37 -0700 (PDT) From: Gene McEnnis Subject: Infected Heartstrings - Chapter 2 *Disclaimer* - Do not read this if you are under-age or if it is illegal for you to do so. By reading this story you are agreeing to absolve the author of all liability incurred as a result. -Enjoy ************************************************************************ Ch. 2 - On Sleepless roads Officer Jones stood outside of the decontamination chamber and stared intently at the electronic report in his hand. It beeped a scrolled down slowly, giving him a readout on the patient's vital signs and other information. It had been a long day, a long flight, a long hibernation. Well, let's just say today was a pain in the ass. That is, except for the lone survivor who was still unconscious as the decontamination units went about their work humming and buzzing as they went. Jones couldn't help but stare. The way that his eyes had gleamed even in the grip of terror, his build, everything. His face flushed for a mere second as memories bubbled up into his head like a hot bath. "How is he?" the deep voice of Hank Steadman asked, breaking him from his nostalgia. Hank crossed his overly large muscular arms and stared into the room beyond the glass. Jones looked at the taller man who now stood to his left, "If we're lucky he's not infected," he replied, looking back to the patient. "Good," the other replied as he haphazardly pushed his dark blond hair back. "At least we can come back with one." Jones remembered the others they had found and looked away. The lean young man behind the glass was still unconscious as the machines continued their work. "Mission's not a total bust if we managed to save one," Hank continued. After a few moments of silence the gruff man spoke, "Oh yeah," he said. "You're needed at the controls Jones," he continued, "We need to leave orbit soon to avoid being spotted by their scouts." Jones nodded. "Let me know when he wakes up hey?" "The lab techs are about to start the physical examination." Hank paused, "You ok?" he asked Jones turned back, " 'course," he said. Weaving through the small corridors he popped the hatch to the main cargo room. Dozens of biomechanical suits lined the side of the room as if they were some kind of discarded cornhusk and people were the corn. The ship itself was small but well built. He smiled. He'd run a decent amount of interplanetary missions on much larger vessels but this one always got the job done just fine. She was a little vessel from the 12900 series, military specialty, designed for quick drop or pickup missions only. Popping the main hatch, Jones finally emerged into the busy and cramped control room. The small compliment of navigational crew was busying themselves at the consoles. "Jameson," He barked as he entered. He paused for a split second to marvel at the unfamiliar stars just beyond the large clear panel on the ceiling. The young man spun around on his chair, "Jameson, plot the trip back into the navigation controls and await for my orders to depart." Jameson nodded his head once and began entering the data immediately. His shoulders slumped in concentration, which only served to make the man look even younger than he was. Three-dimensional light readouts of the star charts danced above Jameson's console as the eager young man busily calculated. "O'Nassi?" Jones called to a squat woman sitting at the back of the room. She was dwarfed by the mess of machinery that jutted out from the far wall. "Sir?" "I trust that the hibernation implants are ready and being distributed?" He said. O'Nassi was the only woman aboard and she had always seemed a little apprehensive in his opinion as though men would jump out of the walls at any moment to attack her. "Everything's in tiptop shape sir," she smiled. "I have yours waiting for you when you return." Jones was about to reply when an alarm bell began screeching through the ship. He pushed past O'Nassi and checked the display. "Damn it," he swore. "What is it?" O'Nassi called as if she expected the herds of men had stormed the ship to ravage her at this very second. "Just get the hyber implants in order and ready to go Stacey," he called. She nodded rapidly up and down but he was already long gone. Jones raced back down the corridor and through the tight turns of the ships corridors at breakneck speed. He heard the commotion before he saw it. "Stand down!" he could see Hank holding a small hand pistol that he always seemed to have clipped to his ankle. "Not until I know what the hell is going on," came a voice that made Jones stop dead in his tracks. It was so familiar and it was so long ago. As he passed in front of the glass partition Jones stopped. His eyes connected with the slim, terrified young man's as he held onto one of the medical techs by the throat. The man paused. "Drop the knife!" Hank spat, his hand pistol began to hum and charge in his hands, "Drop the knife or I'll..." "That's enough Steadman," Jones stepped forward and placing a hand over the top of Hank's gun said, "Get me hibernation implants from O'Nassi and tell them to break orbit asap." "But.." "The others are already in stasis Hank, that's an order." The mammoth man hesitated for only an instant "Yes sir," he barked. As Hank left, Jones turned once more to face the strange yet familiar face of the young man standing half clothed behind the far medical bed with his prisoner in tow. "Will you tell me what the hell is going on?" The man said. His eyes briefly flickered with some unknown thought before they became frigid cold once again. "Drop the knife and let my med-tech go," Jones said calmly and evenly. The man chuckled softly, his knife still poised expertly over the most vulnerable points on the man's neck. "I want answers," he said, "What have you done? Who are you!?" he tightened his grip on the man's neck and leered slightly forward. The medical tech tried his best to squeak. Jones sighed calmly and walked over to the nearest medical bed. He leaned back. "I won't warn you again," the man said backing up. "Back off." "Drop the knife," Jones raised his head and fixed the man in the eyes. "You're still disoriented from the drugs we gave you," he said, "with them in your system you're not in any shape to go anywhere." The mystery man swallowed hard and blinked rapid for a moment. "I... I want to know." "Drop the knife and I'll tell you what you need to know." For a moment the man hesitated as if weighing options that he didn't like. Again, the strange emotion flickered over his angular features as he looked at Jones, but again Jones failed to place it. He frowned. "You're a soldier," he smiled, "not a murderer. Let him go." The medical tech dropped to the ground along with the sound of a sharp metal blade bouncing a few times before coming to rest beside the startled man. The med tech looked expectantly at Jones with doe eyes. His name was Emerson Jones thought. "Emerson," he said, cocking his head to the side, "Report immediately to O'Nassi and..." Abruptly, Hank burst through the side corridor with two injection packs in his hulking arms, "Jones," he said quickly, "We're set to break orbit. They've spotted us. These are the only two that will work fast enough..." He tossed the two units to Jones who looked at each unit before he raised his head. "Have you taken yours?" Jones asked. "Yeah," Hank replied, "O'Nassi wouldn't let me leave without taking it. I got it on a slight time delay to get these back..." Jones wasn't listening as the sound of the main engines firing alerted him of the impending spatial shift. He walked calmly up to Emerson and sank the first unit's contents into the man's forearm. Emerson looked up for a second before his head hit the floor with a slight thud. "I have no time to argue with you," He looked at the lithe man dressed only in the askew white patient's coat. "What are those things?" He asked, backing up and bracing himself. The engine roar changed slightly in pitch and Jones already had a sick feeling in his stomach. "Our little chat will have to wait," he glanced over at the semi-clad man. "Don't take this personally," he pushed the injection needle forward and without warning lanced the unit through the air and into the abdomen of the mystery man. The orange liquid drained into his body rapidly. "Bastard," the man tore at the injection unit before he began to charge. He grasped at Jones' uniform like a fawning child. He looked at Jones with pleading eyes and slowly sank to his knees still gripping the uniform tightly. His body shook with the strain of staying upright. As his body finally fell to the floor Jones stooped and picked the smaller man up in his powerful arms. Quietly he placed the man back on the examination table. Jones turned to see Hank now too collapsed against the floor, drooling slightly. The ship's internal emergency lights had begun to strobe red light throughout the chamber. Officer Jones found a large metallic bucket near the back of the room. He picked it up and walked back to the far examination table. He paused and looked down at the angelic face of the mystery man. Jones bent down and brushed the dark hair away from the man's face. His hand rested on the warm skin for precious seconds as if he wanted to burn the memory of the man into his mind. "This isn't possible," his bright eyes brimmed with tears. Hopping back onto the bed Jones brushed his own platinum blond hair away from his face. "Here we go," he said to no one in particular as he felt the ship hit the spatial folds and begin to shift. The reality of the chamber began to distort and warp like a soap bubble, spreading almost instantly over the young lone officer. He winced and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach into the bowl over and over again. ************************************************************************ *Author's note: Constructive criticism is appreciated and it keeps me honest ;) (corporeal09@yahoo.com).