False Pretenses
Having Vather around was unnerving.
Umtane was mysterious in a deliberate way. When he gave blatantly vague answers, I didn’t get the impression he was trying to mislead me—only that he wasn’t willing to tell me the truth, and that he could be funny about it.
Vather was just an asshole.
Even just observing, he had the demeanor of a vulture eyeing roadkill and made no attempt to hide it.
Worse still was how he felt psionically.
He gave off a stronger buzz than his Adept ally, Itun. He might have still been a cut below Nai, but he was dangerous.
My psionic perceptions weren’t good enough to figure out what emotions someone was feeling, but I could usually discern if there was a change in someone’s emotional state.
And Vather’s emotions changed like the tides. Without knowing exactly what his emotions were, or changing into, I was hesitant to assume just what he was thinking. But I was left with the overwhelming impression that he wasn’t more than five seconds away from trying to kill me.
Behind his normal register on the psionic radar, it seemed like there were dark shapes twisting somewhere in his mind.
He didn’t have a radar, I was sure. But he had… something like Sendin Marfek had.
It wasn’t psionic. Not quite, not wholly.
Whatever abstract construct he had in his head was too limited to qualify. It wasn’t fixed either. It shifted and writhed like a living extension of his brain. It could have been some…homegrown psionic derivative…or perhaps some sort of simpler precursor ability.
Whatever the case, it felt like a mistake letting him observe now.
I was spamming her psionically, trying to keep the panic off my face. There hadn’t been a chance to notify Tasser yet, so I was stuck trying to phone Nai’s brain.
<[Chill,]> I said.
And hopefully that would lead us to someone who had quietly acquired all the ingredients for a bioweapon.
The Vorak in question was staying on the other side of a transparent window. Dr. Maburic had been rather insistent that being allowed to ‘observe’ was not the same thing as being in the same room.
she said.
I told her.
<…You think it’s something to do with Vather?> she asked.
She wordless sent me a silent tone. I matched it and tied off the receiver to make some noise if the psionic signal cut out at all. It would at least tell me…
When the signal cut out again, which it did a minute later.
She must have left Facilities, going out of range again. The next test would be breaking away from Vather long enough to see if his ‘suppressive field’ really was what was hampering the signals.
What else could it be? We’d had absolutely flawless reception this whole time until the Prowlers had arrived. As far as she and I had been able to test from inside the Green Complex, psionic signals didn’t have range limits.
I grabbed the radio I’d been neglecting, clipped to my suspenders.
“Nai,” I whispered into it. “You’re out of range again. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Caleb Hane,” a familiar voice said.
It was Dr. Maburic, Chief of Research, and the one conducting almost a dozen biopsies on me today.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Been ready,” I told him. “For the record, I think it’s stupid that you all won’t let Tasser be in the room. I’m going to be sedated [for crying out loud.]”
Sedated, but not unconscious. I’d refused to consent to any test that conked me out.
“Cutting into flesh is not the kind of thing you want overcomplicated by an excess of hands,” Maburic said.
“I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t personal,” I told him. “I’ve heard some bad things about how your homeworld treated him, and after what he’s done for me, I’m appalled anyone would think poorly of him.”
“Every homeworld, every species, every nation, every people, and every person,” Maburic said, “they all have their shortcomings, evils they need to correct. I am sure your world is no different.”
“Well…you’re not wrong.”
He gave a wry chuckle and ushered me toward the locked door to the operating theater. The code he entered was insane, fifteen digits long. But that might be the kind of paranoia that kept Vorak at bay a second or two longer, so who was I to say no?
There was a large table in the center that he directed me to hop up on.
“Give me a few minutes,” the doctor said. “I have to inspect all the tools and sterilize the room.”
“You’re really doing this alone?” I asked.
“Of course not,” he scoffed. “I borrowed some surgery technicians from Medicine for the day. They’ll be along shortly.”
“Are the Prowlers making it hard to get your people?” I wondered, staring at Vather on the other side of the glass.
“No, but I can’t say I like their presence,” he said. “The other one caused enough waves when he arrived…”
“Yeah, Umtane has to be my favorite Vorak,” I told him. “The [prick] actually asked for my help with his investigation. I’m nobody back home, just a kid.”
“The first Vorak really asked for your help?” Dr. Maburic asked, spritzing a cart of instruments with antimicrobial spray.
“He said it was because I, more than anyone else, am guaranteed to have nothing to do with this bioweapon,” I told him. “But I think he was willing to ask for any extra eyes he could. Bioweapons like this back home are serious business.”
“I’m surprised the Director kept something like that a secret,” Dr. Maburic admitted. “We all knew something was amiss when that Umtane arrived, but I had no idea it was that serious.”
“He didn’t make the best impression on me at first,” I admitted. “But I can’t say he hasn’t grown on me.”
Just the fact that the Prowlers considered him problematic was enough to boost my opinion of the Director.
“Even if the Prowlers detained the Director, there must be other suspects…” Dr. Maburic said. “Including me. You must be looking at all the department leadership.”
“What kind of impartial investigator would I be if I told you something like that?”
“Fair, but what kind of suspect would I be if I told you to focus on the paper logs more than digitized ones?”
“…Without an explanation,” I said slowly, “I have no idea what kind of suspect that makes you.”
“This facility boasts state of the art machinery and equipment,” he said. “And yet due to logistical supply questions, a large amount of our record keeping is done on paper.”
“I know, it’s ridiculous,” I said. “I tried explaining to Niza how easy it would be to counterfeit some of these documents and forms—I mean, I don’t know exactly how to do it, but I know it wouldn’t be difficult for someone with even a little experience.”
“Counterfeiting to pass muster is one thing,” Dr. Maburic agreed. “But very few non-Adept made counterfeits would stand up to close scrutiny.”
“How close of scrutiny do you mean?”
“Microscopic,” he said simply. “Paper isn’t a synthetic material. Even a planet with a young ecosystem like ours still makes our paper from plant materials. That means you can check the age of a page based on the state of the cells.”
“So…if someone swapped out a document with a false one…”
“There will be a way to tell,” Dr. Maburic affirmed. “Even if a page of the same age was substituted, there are countless discrepancies to find.”
“I’ll pass that along…” I said warily.
“Am I being too helpful for a suspect?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“That’s okay,” he said. “I doubt you’ll be as fond of me after this, though.”
He held up a syringe gun with an orange fluid in it.
“Finally time, then?” I asked.
“Yes,” the doctor replied seriously. He beckoned in a surgical team, all wearing bright orange scrubs. I was almost reassured when a little dread creeped into me at all these people around me. It made me feel like my old self, before all this stuff came down on me.
But it was for the best that I quash down my nervousness. I was on the operating table. A bit too late to dwell on anxiety.
“I really will be [pissed] if this puts me unconscious,” I told the doctor.
“Dr. Mo was very thorough,” Maburic assured me. “You’ll stay awake. The downside is you’ll likely still feel some of the pain.”
“Won’t be a problem,” I told him.
I’d been completely wrong when I theorized that Daniel’s presence in my brain had altered my perception of pain. Or at least, I’d been wrong about some of it—the augmented parts.
But the idea had proved to be dangerously sound when I’d gone to try it out.
Messing with my own senses psionically proved to have some fundamental limits, but inside some boundaries, it was still possible. Hearing was easiest to mess with. My psionic telepathy was wired into that sense after all. I make myself smell false scents pretty easily—which wasn’t too handy because I wore a mask so much of the time, but still. Maddeningly, taste had proved impossible to alter even slightly. I was furious about that one. Sight was similarly inflexible, which confused me. Because Daniel had successfully appeared to me as an apparition, but I couldn’t replicate the effect.
It merited more study.
Touch was the sense I’d developed this most through. Ever since I’d learned that my tactile cascade conveyed the full sensorium and more, I’d focused on figuring out how to make myself feel certain things on my skin.
Or more importantly, not feel.
Dr. Maburic sunk the syringe into the inside of my forearm and at the same time, I deadened sensation in the same spot.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
It only lasted for a second or so before I felt the instrument below my skin. Timeframe was one of those fundamental limits I hadn’t figured out a way around yet. I could numb pretty much anywhere on my body on cue, but only for about two seconds at a time.
I could repeatedly do so, but it was proving problematic to synchronize the new numbing to align with the previous one wearing off.
It meant I could take my shots and be fine, but if someone was prodding me for longer than a few moments, I still needed conventional medicine for that pain.
So…I was…Iwasreallyhoping…hoping that Dr. Mo’s sed…a…tive…worked.
“[Oookay…]” I said as a thick gooey sensation settled on my entire brain. “[That’s just wicked…wicked odd.]”
“Try to keep talking,” Dr. Maburic said, “It’s important that you tell me anything you can about your condition. But don’t move either.”
“[You got it, Doc,]” I said in English. Which was the wrong language. “[You got it Doc,]” I told him, making sure I said it in his language, English, this time.
Wait.
No…that was still wrong.
“You…got…it…” I said to him slowly, making sure I picked the Starspeak carefully.
“Alright, diving for the first sample…” Maburic said nervously. “Sampling of heart muscle—Mr. Hane, do not move an inch.”
The first thing I learned was that while I was sedated, I was not at all paralyzed. I felt I could move. I could probably even run or jump. That was odd.
The second was that I was clear. My whole brain might have been going in slow motion, like it was flooded in honey, but it remained fully aware of what was going on. It was hard to move through honey, but perfectly see through.
So when Dr. Maburic’s needle went into my chest, I felt the pain.
But I was disconnected from it. It didn’t make me flinch. It was still pain, but my ordinary reflex to it felt entirely optional right now. And since it was, I made sure to keep still.
His surgical tool of choice wasn’t a proper needle either. It was a nifty piece of Casti biotech that made me very confused why microcircuitry was so surprising to them. A mechanical syringe exposed a very small custom organism to my heart muscle, where it would essentially take a bite out of me. A very tiny bite, I’d been assured.
They’d also said they were dumbing down the explanation significantly. Which was fine. Best I could interpret, instead of doing microsurgery with mechanical robots, Casti did it with engineered organisms and biological tools.
Dr. Mo had worked hard, not only to develop a sedative that would work on humans, but also designing their surgical organisms to not deliver any infections.
“Keep still,” Maburic said. “Keep still…alright, we’ve got it.” He pulled the metal syringe from my chest and giving me a good view of the bloody tip of the needle.
I hadn’t really felt anything under the skin except for maybe a faint tickle.
“One down,” I said loopily. Right language on the first try, good work Caleb.
“Plenty to go…” Maburic said. He handed the machine to one of the surgical aides.
Another of his people sprayed the biopsy site with a disinfectant, wiping it clean before pressing a square bandage over it. I vaguely remembered to turn my attention toward the spot so my Adept powers would patch the flesh.
I was supposed to do that, right?
“What’s next?” I asked, managing to sound cogent.
“Liver,” he said, before quietly adding, “I hope you’re right about which lump is which…”
Hah. I hadn’t been able to ID all of my vital organs on the three-dimensional scans they’d shown me, but the liver and stomach were hard to miss.
“Pretty sure human livers are magic,” I whispered, keeping very still. “You can cut them in half and they grow back.”
“Just stay still,” Dr. Maburic said. “We still have ten jabs to get through.”
·····
And jab me ten times they did.
But the heart biopsy had been the chanciest, so it had gone first to see what might go wrong. And when nothing had, they moved onto the liver, followed by kidneys, followed by…
Well, I’m not totally sure, but I know the intestine was in there somewhere. They really wanted samples of all the different bacterial cultures I might be keeping in my body.
Ten biopsies later, we were done, and I was still high as a kite.
But clear.
I was very clear. Which…that sensation probably shouldn’t be trusted.
Looking up at the window though, Vather was nowhere to be seen. At some point the passive signal I’d established with Nai had been restored.
And that would be perfectly sound strategy.
Except I had a very bad feeling. Because out of the corner of my eye, I could make out Dr. Maburic filling a syringe gun with the same orange sedative as before.
But if Vather being near me could mess with the signal, then being near Nai would too. Were they making their move?
Dr. Maburic sure was.
My body felt ready to move, so when Maburic came back over to give me another dose of sedative, I tried to bat it out of his hand and leap up from the table.
Unfortunately, my body was not ready to move. I barely managed to smack his arm away before flopping over on the table and crumpling to the floor.
“Caleb Hane, hold still,” Dr. Maburic said.
“[No shot,]” I said, thrusting my hand toward him and creating a flashbang.
Nothing came. I couldn’t reach through the molasses on my mind quick enough to grasp my Adept powers.
I scrambled to my feet before Maburic could try to inject me again. But I was so unsteady on my feet! I felt so clear, but my mind wasn’t moving at the same speed as my body. It made even standing upright a challenge.
One glance at the exit told me the doctor wasn’t letting me out that way. He kept himself and his dosage between me and the door.
“Where’d…where’d Tasser go?” I asked.
“I had your friend go fetch some disinfectant,” he said. “he won’t be back for more than ten minutes.”
Well that was a lie.
Still, I had to be careful. One wrong step and this guy would surely put me under.
“So…” I slurred. “You started messing around in ‘Lestrazine’?”
His expression flashed with shock, though only for a moment.
“No!” he protested. “I’m not out to end lives, I’m trying to protect them. Even the Vorak. Even yours."
“Bioweapons…are…” I stumbled badly as I tried to circle, keeping the operating table between us. The cart I tried to catch myself on skittered across the theater when I shoved it.
Clumsy was just fine. As long as it kept the Casti with the needle at bay.
“I’m not the one making this absurd bioweapon. I’m doing this to put you back where you belong,” he said. “The Coalition should never have broken you out of Vorak custody.”
“They didn’t…” I muttered. Talking was so hard when I was trying to watch for other things. “I broke out.”
“Regardless, the Coalition were the ones who brought you to this planet, endangering millions. The Vorak are right to be alarmed.”
“[You dick,]” I said. “Vather put you up to this?”
“Not quite,” the Chief of Research admitted. “I’ll likely lose my position for this, but I think it needs to be done anyway. Lives will be kept from risk. You’re too dangerous to be allowed out.”
“This…is about First Contact?” I asked, bewildered.
“You should have been quarantined,” he insisted. “This whole time, since the moment you set foot here. Pending the results of these tests, maybe we can feel safer about letting you free, but only after. Certainly not before.”
“[You asshole…]” I said. “Dr. Mo said the risk of cross infection is miniscule.”
“I have equal qualifications as Dr. Mo,” Maburic said. “There are no perfect answers, I’m sorry. But I am unwilling to take the same risks he is.”
The little blinking light I’d been keeping an eye on finally lit up. We were mic’d up and live.
“It’s his field, [four, idiot,]” I told him, trying to stay on my feet. “Pretty sure the Casti who’s an expert on ‘biosphere interaction’ would know. What’s your specialty anyway, [six]?”
I was wracking my brain. Had to remember and keep myself upright. One or the other wasn’t good enough right now.
“My specialty is in research,” he said. “I’m an expert on devising experimental parameters to test biological variables. Do you know how complex comparing even two genetically identical cells is? To say nothing of cross species-instances, or more complex testing.”
“So in other words, [four…three,]” I said, “you have no special expertise about how much risk I pose?”
“This isn’t up for debate,” he snapped. “This is for your safety as much as everyone else’s! Those Prowlers are going to kill anyone they think is a suspect, probably including me. It’s ugly, I know, but at least the Vorak will keep you quarantined.”
“Someone didn’t pay much attention to the [Hypocritic oath,]” I slurred. That word was probably wrong, but the English wasn’t really for his benefit anyway. “[Two, two,] I’m a total fool about all things First Contact, and even I know how much your own people are going to ruin you for this decision. [Eight, three,]”
It was really hard to concentrate. It was such a long number too. This would be so much easier if Tasser were Adept…
“And yet I make the decision anyway,” he said gravely.
“That’s [five, one, zero,] great for you,” I told him. “You go ahead and stick to your [three, zero, six] principles.”
I prayed I had the numbers right. If I’d gotten one wrong, it would take even longer to correct the mistake.
“You’re babbling,” he said. “Stop this before you hurt yourself.”
But I hadn’t gotten the numbers wrong. That was something to be proud of, considering a good chunk of my brain was swimming in syrup.
“Not babbling,” I said. “Performing. Had to make sure you didn’t look at the intercom light.”
Seeing Maburic not quite grasp what I meant, even past when it was too late, was purely satisfying.
Tasser slunk through the now open surgery door and bashed the doctor’s arm first, knocking the syringe to the floor. He immediately followed it with an arm hold that flipped the doctor to the floor, pinning him.
“You alright?” he asked me.
“Give me about ten minutes…and I will be,” I told him. “Sedative is messing with my Adeptry. Can’t make anything right now.”
“Your body is probably trying to materialize a counter-agent,” Tasser said. “It’s really tough to keep Adepts from using their powers long term.”
“Numbers,” Dr. Maburic wheezed, Tasser’s knee pressing against his neck. “The words you repeated, they were numbers. You caught the door code. Passed it to him…inside conversation.”
Huh. That was actually pretty smart of him to figure out this quickly. Or maybe not. He’d only gotten it afterwards.
“This is usually where someone would clobber this guy [upside] the head, and knock him unconscious,” I told Tasser. “But I think that’s just [movies]. I don’t think it works that easily in real life.”
“Even Casti don’t always recover properly from head injuries,” Tasser admitted. “Though in this case, I’m tempted to try.”
“Brute,” Maburic wheezed.
“Not very nice, [Doc,]” I said. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you lost the moral high ground when you tried to ship me back to the Vorak.”
“We could try to sedate him,” Tasser suggested.
“Oh that would be great!” I said. “Ironic too.”
“Can you hold him down?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. “Don’t ask me to move quick, but I can keep pressure on him.”
“Don’t let his arm up.”
I took over Tasser’s pin, and my friend started rummaging through the vials and instruments on the table.
“Alright, Dr. Maburic,” Tasser said. “You’re going to help us sedate you. Because we’re going to keep injecting you with whatever you suggest until you’re unconscious with a heartrate under 50. So give us the correct dosage the first time and we’ll only have to stick you once.”
“You’re mad,” Maburic protested, struggling against me. “You could kill me!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I told him. “You’re the one prescribing the dosage, we’re just helping administer your expert treatment.”
“If you don’t tell us anything, I’ll just start guessing at random,” Tasser said, practically singing the words. He was mad.
Not the way Maburic meant. Those weren’t homonyms in Starspeak. But oh boy was he mad.
“You’ve got six different series of stroachides here,” Tasser said. “I’m pretty sure one of those is used as a sedative…or maybe it’s a paralytic…”
“No!” Maburic shouted. “The fillicine vials…sixteen milliliters. The vial is marked 3017…”
“Thank you for your cooperation,” Tasser said, grabbing the appropriate vial.
“I wanted to think you were better than this,” Maburic hissed at Tasser. My friend knelt down by the doctor.
“Last thing,” he said, ignoring the barb, “Did the Prowlers put you up to this? Or were you acting alone?”
“…Neither,” he confessed. “I approached them to move the Human out of the facility. It was clear Tashi Umtane wasn’t capable of separating him from the Coalition.”
“Well congratulations,” Tasser said. “As soon as you got him out of the facility, they were going to kill you and maybe Caleb too. They’re paranoid about the bioweapon being smuggled out of the facility, and you, someone on the suspect list, approached them about smuggling an alien out of the Green Complex? Come on, this isn’t even hard math.”
Tasser punctuated the sentence by depressing the syringe gun into Maburic’s chest, and in just a few seconds, he went limp beneath me.
“He’s on the suspect list,” I said. “What do we do now?”
“Well first, we get him out of here. Then you psionic Nai and see if the Prowlers have attacked her yet,” he guessed. “If they haven’t, they’re about to.”
“There’s going to be fighting,” I said. “This…oh [shit,] this is bad.”
“No time to waste,” Tasser huffed.