Dekkir (Galaxy Alien Warriors #1)(51)
As I left, I heard a dreamy voice behind me say, “Sure. No problem.” I hoped it wasn’t. He was clearly sinking into an adaptation trance already, and whatever Tabirus’s plans were, the Strain was an important part of it.
Upstairs was in chaos. I pretended to be the docile prisoner again, trailing closely behind Tabirus as soldiers and technicians ran past us in what looked like a panic. A large crowd had gathered outside one of the offices. I could sense Grace’s presence in that room.
Tabirus pushed through the crowd, saying calmly, “Chief science officer here. I have medical equipment en route. Please let me pass.”
The crowd parted for both of us, though I got a few startled looks. Inside, Grace radiated regret and anger as she labored to keep the tall, aging human commander’s heart going with her palms. “We’re going to lose him,” she called out sharply. “If you’re going to do something, Dr. Stirling, do it quick!”
The room was deserted except for herself and a single technician with the reddest hair I had ever seen. Tabirus hurried over to bend over the commander with her. He looked up at the technician. “Get that interrogation unit out of here. Bring the crash cart down, along with a stasis bed. We have to get him stabilized before I can do anything.”
The tech grabbed the machine, sparing us all one last look before he hurried out. I walked over to my Grace and gently put my hands on her shoulders. “Stay calm,” I murmured in her ear. “I’m here now.” She relaxed slightly under my hands, and I smiled despite the circumstances.
I could see why it was hard for her. The man in question hovered on the brink of death, his face absolutely white, the right side of his chest and belly burned down to red and black meat, the skin completely gone. “Can anything be done for him?” I asked.
Tabirus nodded grimly. “There’s only one thing. The Golden Strain works faster when it’s trying to save its host’s life, and I’m about to give him a massive dose.” Opening the sample dish he had kept in his hand, he stepped forward and unceremoniously dumped the entire contents into the wound on the commander’s chest.
Wickman’s eyes flew open, and his back arched slightly. He let out a low groan, and golden light started to sparkle and dance inside his wound as the pile of spores sank into it. Grace gasped and backed up against me, and I wrapped my arms around her from behind. I murmured reassurance in her ear, but I could feel her shivering as she watched the skin across the man’s chest start to knit together.
A minute passed. I stood tensely, wishing I knew what was going on outside. Chances were Norcross was going to take advantage of his superior’s supposed death in order to take over. “What are the chances the soldiers will side with him?” I asked, wishing I had my spear with me.
Grace sighed. “On the one hand, he doesn’t have control of them all, or the ones guarding me wouldn’t have flipped when he shot Wickman. But protocol says he’s in charge if the commander’s incapacitated, and only three witnesses saw him shoot Wickman besides me. If he silences them and tells the others I killed Wickman, they’ll do whatever he says.”
“Then we will have to expose the truth to all of them at once,” Tabirus said as he monitored Wickman’s healing. The man was breathing on his own again, and the blackened, raw look to his flesh was fading. “Once he is stabilized, I will need to part company with you for a while and put the next phase of my plan in motion. Once that is done, we can use the chaos to locate Norcross and take him out. Protocol will have command here fall to me at that point.”
Grace nodded, still clutching my arms as I wrapped them around her chest. “We’ll get him back on his feet. Once that’s done, he can help us shut down internal controls and start winning back the locals.”
Tabirus let out a soft laugh as he straightened up. The color was flowing back into Wickman’s face, and his eyelids fluttered. “Believe me, by the time this fellow is back on his feet, human awareness on the base will have . . . expanded considerably.” He winked, looking Wickman over one last time. “If he doesn’t regain consciousness within twenty minutes, contact me.”
We stared after him as he turned on his heel and strode out. Grace turned to me, eyebrows drawn together. “What’s he up to?”
“All I know is he inoculated one of the other science officers, and he’s culturing gigantic amounts of Golden Strain down in his lab.”
My fingertips slid up and down her arm. I was so happy to be alone with her again that my mind went straight to my desires. Perhaps it was the desperateness of the situation. Perhaps it was watching her come into her own. I had sensed the way she stood up to Norcross and the way she conducted herself with the commander. This was the woman I had known she could become from the beginning: strong enough to handle any situation. I leaned down and buried my nose in her hair. But then I realized she had gone rigid in my arms and was staring off into space as she weighed what I had just told her.
“There’s only one thing he could need all of that Golden Strain for, Dekkir. If he makes enough, he could expose everyone on the base.” Her voice was low and a little shaky with wonder. “He could force open all their minds.”
It made sense in more ways than one. My heart started to pound as I contemplated the possibilities. “That would incapacitate everyone with their adjustment period at once!”