Death in Winter - Michael Jan Friedman [68]
“Gone?” Sela echoed disbelievingly, her words careening in her office from one stone wall to another like a flock of suicidal avians.
Akadia frowned. “Yes, Commander.”
“How?” she demanded.
“She had help,” said the subcommander. He looked as if his uniform had suddenly become a size too small. “From one of us.”
Sela felt her anger rise into her throat, threatening to choke her. By force of will, she tamped it down. “Who?” she growled.
“Jenophus, Commander. He was a much more accomplished combatant than anyone suspected.”
Sela shook her head in disbelief. “You’re saying Jenophus alone was responsible for the human’s escape? With all the guards that stood between him and the front gate?”
Akadia nodded. “Yes, Commander. That is the consensus of everyone who opposed him. It was Jenophus alone. And the prisoner, of course. She was of some help.”
Sela’s teeth ground together. “Find them,” she told the subcommander. “Both the prisoner and Jenophus. Go door to door if you have to, but root them out-or you and your men will have reason to regret it.”
He withdrew from her presence. “As you wish, Commander.”
Sela waited until her subordinate had left the room. Then she tapped a code into the portable com device on her desk, opening a channel to her orbiting warbird.
Whoever had gotten into the compound and escaped with the human might have had a plan for leaving Kevratas. The commander needed to stymie it.
The response from Tresius, the officer in charge of her warbird, was almost instantaneous. He asked how he could serve her.
“Be alert,” Sela said, “for suspicious vessels. Our prisoner has escaped and she may try to leave Kevratas.”
“If she does,” Tresius responded, “I will prevent it. Rest assured of it, Commander.”
Sela approved of his attitude. She always had. “If you do,” she said, “there will be a substantial reward in it for you. Rest assured of that.”
“You are too generous,” said Tresius.
No, she replied inwardly, I’m exactly as generous as I have to be-no more, no less. “Sela out.”
Next, she deployed extra forces to the spaceport, and promised the officer in charge there the same reward she had promised Tresius. He too assured her that he would catch the fugitive.
Finally, Sela sat back in her chair, knowing she had done all she could. In time, she assured herself, the doctor would be caught in her web, along with Jenophus and the Federation team that had to that point eluded her.
But in the meantime, Sela’s discontent would slither inside her like a hungry serpent.
10
Captain’s log, supplemental. With the help of our friends the rebels, Doctor Greyhorse has set up a small lab here in the tunnels below the ancient castle, and is taking blood samples from Kevrata who are showing symptoms of the disease. He seems confident that his research, combined with what he learned at Starfleet Medical, will enable him to develop a vaccine in a relatively short time. For the sake of Hanafaejas and his people, I sincerely hope Greyhorse’s confidence is not misplaced.
Decalon was neither a physician nor a biologist, so he could do nothing to help Greyhorse in his efforts to develop a vaccine. Nonetheless, he constantly found himself drawn to the tiny alcove where the doctor had set up his laboratory.
The rebels, for all the primitiveness of their existence, had supplied Greyhorse with a computer, a biomolecular scanner, and the rest of the equipment he had requested. In their midst the doctor seemed like just another part of the system, as tireless and methodical as a machine.
At times he said strange things, or merely said things at strange times-making the Romulan so uncomfortable that he felt compelled to change the subject. If Decalon hadn’t known better, he might have questioned the doctor’s sanity. However, he didn’t think the Federation would have dispatched a lunatic on such an important and difficult mission.
Besides, Joseph didn’t seem especially concerned. In fact, he appeared to take pleasure from seeing his old colleague in such a workmanlike frame of mind.