Chapter 17
As the XO walked into the infirmary, Dr. Messenger saw him through the clear glass walls of his office. He got up and walked around his desk to intercept the colonel.
But there was no need. The colonel met him at the door.
The doctor smiled and arched his bushy white eyebrows. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Colonel? Two visits in one day? And this time you’ve come to my office.”
The colonel pointed past him. “Have a seat, Doctor. This is for your ears only.”
The doctor frowned as he turned away. “Ah.”
The XO said, “Door, close please.”
The door shut with a quiet hiss.
When the doctor was comfortably seated behind his desk again, he glanced at the colonel, who had already seated himself in one of the two guest chairs. “So what can I do for you, Colonel?”
“As you know, the CO and I believe running the DNA tests is paramount to discovering those who are attempting to sabotage our mission.”
The doctor nodded and smiled. “Yes, yes. I believe so too.”
“Good. I need you to run the DNA tests on Wilson and Schaeffer again. I think there might be a rather serious discrepancy.”
“Oh?”
The colonel nodded. “Meaning they didn’t turn out quite the way the general would have liked. Or me either, for that matter. If you read them, I’m sure you know what I mean.”
The doctor only looked at him. “I see.” He paused, studying the colonel’s face. “But no, I didn’t read them at all. I assumed the results were not my business. As soon as the machine spit them out, I forwarded them on to you.” He paused again.
Lie number one. The timestamp discrepancy said different.
But the XO said nothing. He only looked at the doctor.
The doctor shrugged. “Of course, you know I can’t personally manipulate the results of the DNA tests even if I wanted to.”
Lie number two. The yellow button on the machine, the one that read Request Correction(s), intimated that one could manipulate the results. And the first option on the new screen was to manually manipulate the results. It required field-grade authorization, but as the chief medical officer, the doctor held a commission as a lieutenant colonel, so he was a field-grade officer. And he’d been using the DNA test machines for years.
But the colonel only smiled and said, “Yes, of course. No worries.” He leaned forward in his chair slightly and quieted his voice. “Nor would I or the CO want you to, Doctor. I’m sure you know that.” He straightened in the chair again and crossed his left leg over his right at the knee. “I was just thinking possibly there was a mistake in the translation of the results. So would you run them again, please? You can take another swab of the prisoners if you want.” He paused. “The thing is, we can hardly eject them from the ship with things as they are, can we?”
The doctor frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we’re certain those who are attempting to sabotage the ship must have swapped places with legitimate passengers.”
“Oh yes, I concur.”
“Which means their DNA can’t possibly match the results that were taken on the surface before they boarded, right?”
“Ah. Right, right. I see what you mean.”
“So if you’d be so kind as to run the tests again—”
“Of course, Colonel. I have a few other things to do at the moment, but I’ll run them shortly. And of course I’ll send you the results right away. Assuming I should send the results directly to you again?”
“Yes. Send them to my tablet please.” The colonel stood and smiled. He offered his right hand across the doctor’s desk. “It’s good to know we understand each other, Doctor.”
As the doctor stood and they shook hands, the colonel said, “Thank you.” More quietly, retaining his grip on the doctor’s hand as he leaned forward, he said, “I’m glad you’re on our team.”
The doctor smiled. “Of course, Colonel. What other team would I be on?” He laughed quietly as the colonel turned to leave.
*
The XO had wanted to talk with the CO about Dr. Messenger after he left the infirmary.
He wanted to tell her about the trap he’d laid, but it was late and the CO was enjoying some time off. And good for her. In coming days, she would be faced with some terrible decisions. He only hoped he could make them a little easier for her.
Tomorrow would be soon enough. He headed for his quarters.
*
John Stanley was sitting in his room in a reclining chair, though it wasn’t reclined. He had a feeling if he let it recline, it might not ever straighten back out. It might even fold in on him and maybe pull him through into another dimension or another time or something. He might be worse off there than he was here, and he might not ever be able to get back. Really there was no telling.
He kept the chair upright, and he studied a little flaw on the wall across the room under the view screen. That flaw, that little spot, was meant to be studied, meant to be watched and figured out. Otherwise it wouldn’t be right there where he could see it so easy.
The chair reminded him a little of the chair his dad was sitting in the last time he’d seen him. That was only an hour or so before someone called those men with the ambulance, though he never did know who called them. Only he knew it wasn’t him or his mama, Mabel, the drunk. His dad had finally figured out a way to sober her up right quick, though his dad would never know it.
Those men just showed up and came in and they didn’t even knock that Johnny remembered. They just came in. One of them looked at his mama on the way past the couch but then he looked away quick ‘cause she wasn’t all dressed.
And three of them checked his dad by touching him here and there and they were wearing stretch-on plastic gloves like his dad was unclean or something. But if that’s why they were wearing the stretch-on gloves, then they would’ve had to wear a whole stretch body suit to touch his mama. Only they didn’t seem to want to touch her anywhere at all, and that was different. Other men had never seemed to have a problem touching her.
And while they were busy touching his dad, the fourth man flopped out what turned out to be a long black plastic bag, and then he unzipped it down the middle and laid it on the floor. And he spread the zippered sides apart too but one side kept flopping back down and he cussed a little bit, but really quiet. But the whole house was quiet then so Johnny heard a little bit of it.
Then two of those other three men took his dad out of that chair, his favorite chair where nobody else would sit even when he wasn’t home. And when they got him up good, one man took his shoulders and his dad’s arms just kind’a flopped across his chest like he didn’t care, and the other guy grabbed his feet, boots and all and laid him out in the bag.
By then two other guys were being careful to pull the zippered sides of the bag open and when they got his dad in it just right they closed the sides and kind’a pulled them together and one of the original guys zipped it shut and that was that.
*
As he watched the little spot on the wall he was listening to the view screen, though he didn’t remember what program was on. They were all basically the same anyway, good for background noise and little else just like people. Now and then a good movie came on, one of the old ones from back in the 20th century. Humphrey Bogart was good. For a little guy, he really carried some weight. Too bad he made so few movies.
But whatever was on the view screen at the moment, it definitely wasn’t Bogart. It was just background noise, like his dad used to sit in his chair and listen to the news-reader guy for background noise before he went to bed. Just background noise and it made him feel a little better while he watched that little spot on the wall.
The implanted comm unit behind John Stanley’s left ear put out a high-pitched tone and he flinched. He hated when it did that. It made that little round bone vibrate and that made the inside of his ear tickle, and it made him feel a little off. And then he heard a voice.
“Stanley?”
He recognized the voice. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Listen closely. There’s something I need you to do, and this is very important.”
So John Stanley listened, and the guy didn’t talk very long. And at the end he said, “Do you understand?” which is what he said after every time he had talked with John, though he’d never given him something big like this to do before.
And John made the same joke he made every time when he answered the question. “I guess it ain’t rocket science,” he said and then he laughed a little, inviting the other guy to laugh too.
Only the guy must not have got the joke just like he didn’t get it every time because he didn’t laugh and he didn’t say anything else. He only waited.
So Stanley said, “Yes, I’ll take care of it.”
And there was nothing else. The guy was just gone.
And John Stanley did understand. He understood just fine what the guy wanted him to do and he knew who he wanted John to do it to and he knew the guy probably wanted it done right away.
But it would have to wait for tomorrow or tomorrow night maybe, because it was late and he was tired and he was sure he could remember the name of the guy he was supposed to kill.
And besides, just before the comm unit tickled his ear he thought the little flaw on the wall moved. And that was really interesting.
Intriguing twist