Cold Warriors Page 6

  She tugged open the hatch and entered a smoke-filled hallway. Caitlin coughed as her lungs filled with dense fumes. She squinted, her eyes felt singed and began to tear. Caitlin covered her mouth with her hand and looked around at the figures running in the smoke. Through the din of alarms and voices, her hearing focused on a constant clanging coming from behind her. She turned toward the sound and made her way blindly through the passageway, coughing intermittently.

  As she approached the sound, Caitlin realized it was coming from behind a closed metal hatch. She felt the hatch. It was warm but not too warm. She placed her ear to it and heard muffled cries and pleas for help coming from those trapped inside.

  "Can you hear me?” she yelled in between gasps for air.

  "Yes! Get us out of here!"

  Caitlin anxiously surveyed the corridor around her trying to see anyone through the smoke. She heard people moving but saw no one. The alarm blared overhead. She knew no one could hear her scream for help. The heat emanating from the door rose in temperature. The voices inside the room lessened.

  She read the sign next to the door, it was a Clean Room. She tried turning the metallic hatch's wheel.

  It wouldn't budge. Caitlin grunted as she tried turning the warming steel.

  "Can I get some help over here!?” She kept yelling in between grunts as the wheel inched forward slowly. As she gripped it hard, streams of pain edged through her hands like a dirk cutting through fine cloth.

  People ran by her with hoses and other equipment for the fire. The temperature of the door rose quickly. The metallic hatch cooked her hands like fresh meat. She wanted to stop but their pleas for help drove her on.

  "Get away from there!” a voice yelled in the distance.

  She continued struggling with the door. Her face contorted with fear as the thudding behind the door died off slowly.

  "Oh God, no!” Caitlin cried. “Somebody help!"

  A roar behind the door confirmed her worse fears as fiery metal seared her flesh. “Ahhh!!” she screamed letting go of the door and slamming against someone behind her.

  The rush of heat and fire blew her and the people around her away from the room. Dazed she lay struggling for air as acrid fumes poured out of the room.

  Several firemen pushed their way through the din and into the room extinguishing the fire. Collapsed on the floor and unable to move, Caitlin lay panting and in shock. More people poured into the area. As the firefighters stepped over her and walked towards the bombed out room, she struggled to her feet and staggered a few steps before falling.

  She could hear the whirl of the overhead fans as they turned on, clearing the air inside the passageway. The thick chalky air dissipated leaving only charred walls and bodies everywhere. Dazed, confused and in shock, Caitlin stared at her blistered hands unable to feel any pain. The room began to swirl as her nerves came alive, numbness suddenly gone. Caitlin wailed silently as her burned flesh blistered in the dry air.

  Medical personnel darted back and forth in the cramped corridor. They cared for their wounded comrades while Caitlin leaned against a wall with her eyes closed silently crying.

  "Don't worry, it'll be all right."

  Caitlin opened her eyes. An older man with soothing eyes crouched in front of her. She sighed as he bandaged her quivering arms and hands.

  "This isn't that bad.” He smiled sympathetically. “The doc can fix you up in no time."

  Caitlin looked at him through teary eyes and nodded.

  * * * *

  Keegan entered the lower deck of the Blanchard smelling the acrid scent of burnt flesh and hot metal. He perused the injured; some were sailors and Marines, but most were cryos. The dead were lain out in the hall covered with sheets or tarps. He surveyed the area, searching for answers to the question of who or what started this catastrophe.

  Keegan spotted a man coming out of one of the rooms. His mask dangling over his shoulder barely covered three red chevrons on his sleeve. “Petty Officer!"

  "Yes, Sir?” The dirt-covered man stood squarely in front of the ship's XO.

  "What happened?"

  He looked conspiratorially to the side of him. “Sir, it's too soon to tell but,” he paused, “I think it's sabotage."

  Keegan glared at the Petty Officer causing him to step back a bit. “That is a strong accusation sailor."

  "Yes, Sir. But the preliminary evidence seems to be pointing in that direction."

  Keegan glanced at the carnage around him. “Get on it. I want answers not suppositions. Is that understood?"

  "Yes, Sir.” The Petty Officer stiffened to attention.

  "Dismissed.” Keegan walked away.

  He needed to know the extent of the loss of life that was suffered. Medical personnel darted back and forth tending the wounded. As more medics continued to pour in, he noticed some weren't working. Instead they were milling around talking as if they had nothing to do.

  It seemed quite clear to Keegan that any unnecessary personnel should be kept away from the area, while those essential tended to the wounded. He saw people lying all around moaning in pain or passed out while the medics stood and talked.

  His blood boiled. What the Hell is their problem?

  Keegan realized that those being ignored were cryos. He could tell from their singed badges, which still registered their raised numeric id's.

  Keegan gritted his teeth at his crew's blatant disregard for crew members’ lives. It was reprehensible. No matter who they were, or where they came from the people on his ship deserved dignity and respect. He demanded and expected everyone to be treated in a humane and decent manner.

  While shaking his head Keegan regarded a man crouching in the corner several feet from him. He walked toward him instantly recognizing Beller. He too was covered in dirt from the smoke. His expression hardened as Beller spoke to Caitlin softly while checking the soaked bandages on her hands.

  "Medic!” the Colonel barked.

  A young nurse appeared before him and stood stiffly at attention. “Yes, Sir.” Corporal. Saadya snapped to attention smartly. Her gaze looked past that of Colonel Keegan's.

  "Why aren't you attending to the wounded?"

  "Sir, we are."

  "No, you are not!"

  "Sir?” Saadya asked, craning her head.

  He pointed in Caitlin's direction. “Why isn't she being tended too?"

  Saadya looked at Caitlin and the melted ID tag on her shirt.

  "She's a cryo, Sir."

  "So? Everyone on this ship is my responsibility and under my command. And that includes you!” Keegan moved in closer. “No one will be ignored or mistreated on my watch. Is that understood?"

  "Y-yes, Sir.” Saadya stammered.

  "You have this staff attend to everyone on the double!"

  Saadya nodded vigorously.

  He pointed to Caitlin. “Get her to the infirmary on the double. Is that clear?!"

  "Yes, Sir.” Saadya nodded

  "Move it!” he thundered.

  Saadya hustled off into Caitlin's direction.

  * * * *

  Dr. Bishop smiled as he finished bandaging Caitlin's arms. She sat slouching on the gurney wearing a green tee shirt, wincing as he checked her dressing.

  "You know we see each other entirely too often. People will think we're in love,” Bishop quipped smiling broadly.

  "We must be in some really sick relationship then, since I only see you under the worst circumstances."

  "Oh? Are you saying you don't enjoy our quiet midday interludes?” Dr. Bishop jested while injecting Caitlin with an antibiotic.

  "Ouch.” She flinched. “As I recall, I do all the talking and you do most of the listening."

  Bishop put away the syringe and grinned. “That's part of my bedside manner. That's what all the good doctors do. You know, me and you go back a long way."

  "How so?"

  Bishop looked wistfully above him and said, “I remember when you were just a frozen stiff on a medical drone and now
look at you, saving others without any regard for your own safety. It makes a doctor proud. Maybe you should be working for me."

  "I thought I already I did."

  "Really?"

  "I'm your maid remember?"

  Caitlin shifted her weight on the stretcher inside the crowded infirmary and examined both of her bandaged arms. They were covered in a heavy white dressing that wrapped itself up to her elbows. Underneath was a synthetic material, which molded itself to the shape of her arms. The smooth material covered her fingers individually causing her hand to look like she had dipped it in white batter. The polymer-like substance made a sticking sound as she wiggled her fingers and arms when testing its tautness.

  "We'll keep these bandages on until the pseudo-skin sets and then we'll take them off."

  "What is this stuff?"

  "It's a great treatment for burns called pseudo-skin. It acts as a natural skin graft and repairing agent at the same time. The shot I gave you should guard against any infection."

  "Am I going to be all right?"

  "Yes."

  "When can I take these things off? Will I have scars?"

  "Your burns are relatively minor."

  They didn't seem minor to her, and they certainly did not feel minor. She wanted something for the pain. Whatever he had given her wasn't strong enough.

  "I'll have someone check on them in a couple of days—"

  "That fast?"

  "Yep, the twenty-first century is great ain't it? Hopefully the scarring will be minimal."

  "So, will you give me something for the pain?” Her brown eyes peered into his.

  "You shouldn't be feeling any discomfort—

  Oh, that's right, I forgot. Yes I will. I'll be right back."

  "How is she doc?” Beller asked, approaching him.

  Bishop swung around pleasantly surprised. “Oh, she should be fine in a couple of days."

  He smiled at Caitlin. “Try to stay out of trouble."

  "It just seems to find me.” She smiled weakly.

  "That doesn't mean you have to interact with it. Now if you'll excuse me.” Bishop left, making a beeline towards the center of the infirmary.

  Caitlin forced herself to stop looking in the doctor's direction. She sighed heavily and forced a smile. “I never got a chance to thank you."

  "No problem. I don't mind helping out one of my own.” Beller pulled up a chair.

  "You're a—

  "she started

  "A refugee from the twentieth century,” Beller finished.

  "I guess there's a lot of us huh?” She examined her bandaged limbs. How she was going to dress and clean herself?

  "In the beginning I heard there were about twenty thousand of us. But now, who knows. The fighting has been so heavy...” he replied, his voice trailing off.

  "That was really nice, thanks.” Caitlin craned her head, “I'm not used to that sort of open kindness, you know?"

  "Don't worry about it. I've gotten used to my second-class citizenship."

  "The name is John Beller."

  "Caitlin Driskoll.” She reflexively held out her hand but they both stopped and chuckled.

  "How long have you been awake?"

  "About a year now. I was one of the lucky ones though."

  "How so."

  "I had family with me.” He answered leaning on the chair's back legs. “My wife froze herself with me when I passed."

  "Wow, where is she?” Caitlin looked around the room.

  "She died two months ago. This time forever.” The chair slammed back to the floor.

  "She may be the lucky one.” Caitlin shook her head. “I don't know what my husband was thinking when he did this. Maybe he thought we would be together. I don't know any more. It was so long ago."

  "Yeah well, you get by the best way you can.” Beller got up to leave.

  "I'm trying. Thanks again.” Caitlin looked into his eyes. She thought they looked kind but full of sorrow.

  "Don't mention it.” Beller waved and disappeared into the crowd of the infirmary.

  Caitlin looked around the bed for her shirt. She located it hanging neatly on a rack beside the bed. She reached for it and stopped when she realized that her body felt stiff and sore. The blast had knocked the wind out of her and shook her up pretty badly.

  "Let me help you with that.” Keegan offered, startling Caitlin in the process.

  "Thank you."

  "No problem.” Keegan smiled slightly, his cerulean blue eyes peering into hers. He glanced at her bandaged arms. “Will you be all right?"

  "The doctor says I should be fine in a few days.” She adjustiedher shirt.

  "Good."

  Suddenly aware that the second in command was talking to her for no reason other than finding out about her well being, she felt awkward and embarrassed.

  Aware of the silence, Keegan spoke, “You have to report to the briefing room on deck three in a half hour. There are some questions that need to be answered."

  Caitlin blinked feeling her stomach flutter. She found herself gazing into his bright blue eyes and enjoying it. She heard no sound in the room other than his breathing. Caitlin nodded trapped in his gaze. “I'll be there as soon as I'm done with the doctor."

  He cocked his head as noticing someone's approach. “Good."

  He turned to leave. He halted meeting Beller's eyes. The two stared at each other briefly exchanging expressions filled with indignation.

  Caitlin peered at the two men sensing the tension between them. Their glares were like two wolves who happened upon wounded prey at the same time. They broke off their stares simultaneously, walking off in different directions.

  Beller ambled towards Caitlin. “Do you know the way to the briefing room?"

  Caitlin shook her head wondering what was going on between the two.

  Chapter Eight

  General Hollis shivered as she entered the small gray briefing room. She stopped to read the electronic thermostat inside the doorway. It read sixty-eight degrees.

  One of them must have turned the heat down. Damn! It's just like them to take what's not theirs, she sneered feeling tired and pissed off. I have to be awakened out of a perfectly good sleep because some assholes wanted to commit suicide and take everybody else with them?

  She wanted answers and she wanted them now. She surveyed the room. Worn-out pegboards held long-forgotten announcements while sturdy shelves contained neat piles of multicolored paper. Men and women out of uniform sat slouching casually in metal chairs, which were bolted to the floor.

  Their asses must be glued to the chairs too! She glowered. “Get to attention this minute."

  "A-ten-hut!” Keegan rallied them while hurriedly standing rigid himself.

  The others took their time but eventually made it to attention. Hollis believed this careless attitude toward discipline was symptomatic of their dangerous behavior. She stood next to Keegan and eyed the cryos balefully. She wondered if it was legal to place the whole lot in the air lock and call it a day.

  "At ease, Colonel."

  Keegan stood stoically in front of a blank chalkboard with his hands placed squarely in the small of his back at parade rest. She scrutinized the men and women staring blankly at her and Keegan. She surmised that no one was younger than twenty nor older than fifty ... and all appeared to be in good health. A few faces were familiar but most were not. She instantly discerned that the unfamiliar ones were recent arrivals because they wore the carefree expression of civilian life.

  Pacing back and forth slowly, Hollis chose her words deliberately.

  "It has come to my attention that this latest mishap was no freak accident. It was sabotage."

  "Shit,” an audience member muttered.

  "Indeed,” Hollis agreed eyeing the respondent. “I find it hard to believe as well. Here we are,” she opened her arms, “engaged in battle with the enemy, taking on heavy fire and little did I know that members of my own crew were sabotaging our very efforts."

&nb
sp; Cries of disbelief rose in the crowd. Hollis studied their faces and with displeasure, she found their protests contemptible. “So, you don't consider yourselves as part of my crew?” She paused then nodded her head in agreement. “Maybe at one time it was true but not any more. I used to think we all had the same goal in mind, victory. Obviously I was mistaken."

  She saw Keegan glance at the floor. She could tell he was disappointed by this incident.

  "Thirteen of your fellow cryos died trying to alter the settings of the pulse reactors in the Blanchard's clean room!"

  The room was silent.

  "That treachery not only killed your buddies and ruined the clean room. It also put gaping holes,” she made circular gesture in the air and yelled, slamming her fisted hands on the table in front of her, “in two of the auxiliary O2 pipes."

  She stormed up to the first row of seats. “If that ain't sabotage, then I don't know what is! And you people were the only assholes down there when we were rigged for red! We are in the middle of a goddamn war and our survival is your survival."

  Hollis stepped backwards and banged her fist against the chalkboard. “This is my ship and my crew! I'll be damned if I let you or anyone else put them in jeopardy!"

  She calmed herself and straightened her uniform. “Teamwork and unity are essential for efficient crew function and morale. And your presence has made this task impossible to achieve."

  She stood squarely and faced the cryos with a stony expression on her face. “Your date of departure has been moved. All of you have now been reassigned to infantry detail effective immediately."

  Keegan could barely hide the shock on his face.

  "Your training will take place on Eridani. A C-210 cargo shuttle will be arriving here in seven hours to transport you to a Sub-Zero Training and Survival Facility. Once you've arrived, you will receive three months of intense training after which you will you'll be given your division assignments."

  Hollis frowned and placed her arms behind her. “I know the C.O. there; he's a fine officer. You'll learn everything you need to know from him. So, I suggest you all go back to your bunks and get some rest, you'll need it. No personal items are allowed. If you have any, I suggest you give them away. You won't need them where you're going."