said in an accusing tone.
Rom shrugged. “Of course. The Commodore ordered it.” His tone was offhand.
Kas sighed. “Put it away, Rom. And get Doctor Re-Lecton a clean shipsuit, will you?” Rom nodded, then threw Kas a quick grin and wink behind the civilian’s back and slipped out.
“Now, Doctor,” Kas said as the man shakily resumed his seat. “I didn’t do this to humiliate you. It was obvious that you had absolutely no idea what you’d gotten into, and that you weren’t prepared for explanations. Oh, I could have spent the next several hours trying to explain it to you but you wouldn’t have been listening, and I didn’t have the time to pander to a pompous fool.”
“But now, perhaps you understand the difference between a civilian director and a military commander. I ordered Rom to kill you. If I hadn’t stopped him he’d have done it. If he’d refused, I could have had him shot for dereliction of duty. If he had done it, he would not have been held responsible; I would. But I would have been responsible to my superiors only insofar as justifying the need for your death. It would not be considered murder as long as I could provide a reasonable explanation of its necessity in terms of my mission.”
He sighed. “Now. If we’re quite finished playing games and you finally understand who’s in charge, we can get down to business. Despite the fact that we got off on the wrong foot I’m depending on you. If your people can’t complete their part of the mission, we’ll have to push an Empire warship into this system’s sun. That will not please the Emperor. A battle cruiser costs billions of crowns and takes years to build.
“It wouldn’t please me, either. I didn’t bring this ship and these people all the way out here, and kill a hundred and fifty people just to push the Rekesh into the sun and return home.”
Ro-Lecton looked stunned. “A hundred and fifty…”
Kas nodded and interrupted him. “Yes, a hundred and fifty people. It was necessary for me to destroy a Glory corvette in order to get you out here.”
The med tech was regaining his equilibrium. “Oh. Well, they were only…”
Kas interrupted again. “Only what, Doctor? Only military people? Or only Glories? Either way they were people, Doctor. People trying to do their duty. I might not have liked them personally, or liked their ideas of duty, or liked what they believed in. But they were people, Doctor. Military people just like me. They threatened my mission, and I did my duty.”
He sighed. “Now, Doctor, it’s time for you to do your duty.”
Ro-Lecton looked uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Admiral. I didn’t realize how that sounded. And I apologize for my manner.”
Kas nodded and relaxed slightly. “It’s ‘Commodore’, not ‘Admiral’.” He sighed again. “Look, Doctor. I’m going to be brutally honest with you. In my experience, scientific and medical types who become ‘directors’ and ‘administrators’ and ‘chairmen’ fall into two categories.
“First, there’s the man who is very good at what he does. He becomes so good that he is promoted frequently, and honored and respected by his peers. At some point he is offered an administrative position as a ‘Director’ or ‘Chairman’ or something. It’s generally sold as being an honor, recognition of his standing in his profession. It’s only after he accepts that he learns it’s really a trap — that he is no longer permitted to actively do what he has loved. Instead, his life now consists of bullying and wheedling and cajoling politicians and fat cats in pursuit of funding. That type is not usually very happy, but they feel that they can’t resign. For them Administration is a tragedy.”
“The second type is completely different. Generally they’re only mediocre-to-competent in their chosen field. They recognize this fairly early on, and do their best to move from direct pursuit of their specialty into some sort of administrative position. These are the people who quickly move into positions such as ‘Assistant to the Deputy Administrator’ or some other glorified clerical position. Since they’re better at administration and politicking than science or medicine, they progress up that ladder instead of the technical side.”
Kas shrugged. “I sincerely hope that you’re the first type, Doctor. We can’t afford the second. The Rekesh had a full complement of medical staff, and they were completely unable to isolate or cure whatever was killing the crew — and them.”
Ro-Lecton relaxed slightly. But there was something in his eyes that told Kas that the little doctor would neither forgive nor forget the terror and humiliation he’d endured. “You may be assured, Commodore,” he said in a patient, condescending tone, “that my skills are neither ‘mediocre’ nor merely ‘competent’. At the risk of sounding immodest, had you bothered to consult any of the many sources available you’d have found that I am considered the Empire’s premier Epidemiologist. I was sent a letter signed by His Imperial Highness himself asking me to head this mission!” He paused for a moment. The pride in his tone had been unmistakable.
“Now,” He resumed in a businesslike voice, “How soon can we begin work? When can you have my team resuscitated? When can we move to the
… whatever it was… the big ship…”
Kas frowned. “There seems to be a misunderstanding, Doctor. You won’t be going aboard Rekesh for some time. Until you’ve finished your work, in fact. We have what I have been told is a complete portable bio lab aboard. The lab is being set up in the cargo bay as we speak. It will have its own atmosphere supply and an airlock with full decontam built in. Once it’s set up, we’ll be evacuating the hold. That means that you and your people will have to wear suits to and from the lab. I’m taking no chances with this thing.”
Ro-Lecton frowned. “I doubt my people have much, if any, experience with spacesuits. Of course, we’re all skilled at working in isolation suits, so perhaps it won’t be much different. What I don’t understand, Commodore, is why we can’t just work aboard the… Rekesh? I was told that she had a fully equipped bio lab.”
Kas nodded. “She does.” He sighed. “You really don’t seem to understand the situation, Doctor. The Rekesh is a dead ship. She’s been dead for over a century. No atmosphere. No gravity. No power. The last survivors shut her down completely, and then opened her to space.”
“Opened her to space? You mean the whole ship’s been in vacuum for over a century?”
Kas nodded again. “We think so, Doctor, though we haven’t verified that by searching through her.”
Ro-Lecton looked puzzled. “Then why do you need us? I mean, no microorganism could survive a century of the vacuum and cold of space.”
Kas shrugged. “Don’t you mean ‘known microorganism’, Doctor?”
Ro-Lecton flushed. “Of course. Sorry.”
“We don’t know what the ship might have picked up,” Kas continued, “or where. The ship’s last Commanding Officer left us a log crystal with his diary on it and several crystals that he gathered in the med lab, in hopes that their work would give us a head start. Weren’t you given those crystals, Doctor?”
Ro-Lecton nodded. “Yes, of course. But whoever gathered them wasn’t a medical man. The crystals are incomplete, and fragments. The first thing on my “to do” list is to board the ship and get the rest of the crystals from it. They’ll provide us with a starting point. Them and any cadavers that might have survived.”
Kas chuckled grimly. “Cadavers are no problem, Doctor. The bodies of the crew were gathered up and put into cargo nets in the hangar bay, which was then decompressed. They’ve been frozen in vacuum for a hundred years, waiting for you — and for a decent burial. But Doctor,” he added, “Please don’t forget that these are not just frozen cadavers donated to a medical school for study. They are Fleet crewmembers who died doing their duty. They are to be treated with respect.”
The little doctor’s grin was rueful. “Yes. As you can see, I’m unaccustomed to working in space. In most epidemics, getting undecomposed corpses to study can be a difficult task. Here, it appears to be the easiest and getting to and from the lab will be the hardest. Odd.” He shrugged. “But it’s still vital that I get aboard that ship and retrieve their medical files — all of them. There’s no sense even beginning work until we learn what was done by the ship’s medical personnel.”
Kas explained to the doctor that it would be several days at least before his entire twelve-person team was revived. He also reminded Ro-Lecton that he could not board the plague ship until he had learned to move and work in a suit — at least a week.
Ro-Lecton howled. But Kas couldn’t relent. There was no way to get the doctor on board the plague ship except in a suit — and suits contain so many ways for its wearer to kill himself that it would be criminally careless to allow Ro-Lecton to board Rekesh without a proper suit check-out.
“Now,” Kas continued when Ro-Lecton paused for breath, “You’ll need to give Gran a list of the people you need revived and the order in which you’ll need them, so he can begin waking them. While they’re being revived, I’ll have one of my crew give you a quick suit checkout. Then you can examine the bio lab and I’ll take you over to
