Security - Keith R. A. DeCandido [32]
“Sir, I—” Kim started, but then Angelopoulos spoke.
“Hey, don’t interrupt the commander. Apologies, sir—please continue.”
Inwardly, Corsi smiled. Angelopoulos had been a model guard since he made an ass of himself during the Artemis debrief. That didn’t mean he was out of her doghouse yet, just that she knew his being there was doing some good. “Thanks, Angelopoulos. My point is, Kim, that—as hard as I’m driving you—reality will drive you harder. This isn’t an easy road you’ve chosen, and it’s one that can get you killed if you’re not careful. Sometimes, it’ll get you killed if you are careful. I need people I can count on to protect this ship. Period.”
“You can count on me, Commander,” Kim said. “I didn’t join so I could serve with you—or with Lieutenant Vale. I mean, I’m glad that I am serving with you, but that doesn’t change my desire to serve.” He hesitated. “I’ll do my best to live up to Caitano’s example, sir.”
Tev had moved off to an auxiliary station that was tied into the bridge. “Approaching event horizon.”
Corsi turned back to face the transporter. “That’s a tall order, Kim.”
Although she wasn’t facing him, Corsi could hear the cheeky grin in Kim’s voice. “If the orders weren’t tall, ma’am, they wouldn’t need security.”
She could also hear the wince in Angelopoulos’s. “God, you got trained by Pelecanos, too?”
“Best teacher I ever had,” Kim said.
Agosto Caitano was the best I ever had. And I let his son die. Corsi shook her head. No, that’s wrong. His death, and Deverick’s, led us to a weapon that would’ve killed millions. Maybe it wasn’t the standard way, but he died doing what security’s supposed to do.
And when I shot Dar, I was doing what security’s supposed to do. For the first time in ten years, she realized that that was what Christine Vale—and Tomozuka Kim—saw on that day on Izar ten years ago. Maybe it’s time I gave both of them credit for it.
“Now entering new quantum reality. Sensors indicate our quantum signatures have been altered.”
For some reason, Corsi had expected some kind of fanfare. But if there was any transition that the da Vinci experienced by going from one universe to another, it wasn’t felt in the transporter room. She found that vaguely disappointing.
Poynter said, “Soloman’s program’s running—sensors have found a planet. Checking for combadge and human lifesigns. They—got it!”
“That was fast,” Gomez muttered. “Oh, no.”
Corsi didn’t like the sound of that. “What is it?”
“We’ve got Elizabeth’s combadge and two human lifesigns—plenty of other lifesigns, but these are the only two human ones. But one of them’s in bad shape—near death. And we’re reading projectile weapons fire!”
Shooting Gomez a glance, Corsi saw the look of horror on her face. She, along with Hawkins, Abramowitz, and Stevens, had been on the receiving end of more than their share of projectile weapons fire on Teneb, and all four of them were nearly killed.
Tev said, “We are about to achieve a standard orbit of the planet.”
“Transporter’s activating,” Poynter said.
Gomez tapped her combadge. “Medical team to transporter room, incoming wounded.”
The transporter hummed to life, and two figures appeared. Corsi barely recognized the one who was crouching as Elizabeth Lense, who was shouting something that sounded like “finish” as she materialized. The naked, scarred, prone figure was hardly at all recognizable as Julian Bashir.
“Leaving orbit,” Tev said, “two minutes remaining.”
Lense jumped up. “No, dammit, you’ve got to send me back!”
“Elizabeth, we detected gunfire,” Gomez said quietly. “Besides, if we don’t leave now, we risk never getting back home again. I’m sorry.”
Wetzel and Falcão came in with two gurneys. Lense refused to get on one, but helped Bashir onto the other one. “I could’ve saved her, dammit.”
Corsi wasn’t sure what that meant. Did she have