Chapter 15 #2
Again, the soldier grunted, and Ethan bet he had already asked these questions of someone—Brink, the captain, even Ritter—and already had the answers.
“Show me.” The soldier stood back, and Ethan walked out first, then waited for Velda. They were each assigned their own personal guard.
“It’s in the med bay,” Velda said.
The Caruson shot her a look, then led the way.
Ethan saw two Cores crew dead in rooms off the passage as they walked past.
They reached the med bay, and found it empty, even though Ethan was sure there would be injured crew after a violent takeover.
“There’re no injuries?” Velda asked, as surprised at the lack of patients as he was.
“Injuries are inconvenient,” the soldier said, and Ethan felt a chill in his gut.
Was he saying they’d killed everyone who was injured, to limit the inconvenience?
Shit.
“Well?” The soldier looked around.
“In the dispensary. There’s a box.” Velda pointed, and one of the guards went in, and then wheeled the box out.
“What does it do?” the soldier asked.
Velda lifted her shoulders. “They didn’t tell us.”
The guard opened the box, and they all looked inside it, he and Velda for the first time, given the blindfolds.
There were four silver balls nestled in little holders, six empty holders, and a small box set in its own holder. That was probably the gyra-na Linao and Ritter had discussed. The machine to remove the silver balls.
“What’s that?” The soldier pointed to the box.
“We were blindfolded each time, we’ve never seen inside the box.” Velda leaned in a little, to get a better look.
“Blindfolded?” The soldier repeated the word carefully, and Velda pointed to the two blindfolds on the counter, then covered her eyes with her hands.
“Why?” he asked. He looked at Ethan, this time, as if suspicious that Velda had done all the talking.
“He said he didn’t want us to have any information about the experiment,” Ethan said. “He did the same with the crew he experimented on.”
“He used crew?” The soldier looked toward the door, suddenly interested.
Both he and Velda nodded.
“Why did he need you, then?” the soldier asked.
“They refused to participate anymore.” Velda spoke up.
“Refused?” The soldier was clearly stumped.
“They wouldn’t do it.” Ethan clarified. Then he gave a faint grin. “They can’t make the crew do anything they don’t want to, or there will be trouble onboard. Prisoners, however, don’t have a say.”
No doubt the Caruson couldn’t conceive of crew refusing to do anything. They either did it or they got ejected into space, probably.
“But they were also in the experiment?” The soldier stared at the box.
“Before we were taken prisoner,” Ethan agreed. “Then the crew said they wouldn’t do it anymore, so they brought us up from the mine with the ore.”
“And what does it do?”
Both he and Velda lifted their shoulders, almost in unison.
“Ritter suspects nothing, because it’s very old,” Velda said, maybe a little too earnestly.
The soldier swung his head to look at Ethan.
“That’s what he said,” Ethan agreed. “Ritter was frustrated and disappointed.”
The soldier took another screen out of his bag, and Ethan recognized it as the one Ritter had carried around. He tapped through it, and then spoke in a low voice over his comms.
When he was done, he pointed to Velda. “How old is very old?”
Again, she shrugged. “He didn’t tell us.”
“How does it work?” The soldier took the slim, silver tongs that were set in the box beside the balls, but couldn’t work them because his hands were too big.
They both shook their heads.
The soldier looked annoyed, but he muttered something again, and suddenly there were footsteps, multiple pairs, and Ritter was shoved into the room, held on the upper arm by a Caruson soldier.
Blood dripped from his hairline, and there was a bruise running down his cheek.
His eyes widened at the sight of Ethan and Velda.
“How does it work?” the soldier asked him, and pointed to the box.
Ritter swallowed, and the soldier reached over and smacked him in the face, exactly where the current bruise was. “You drop the ball onto skin.” Ritter’s voice was a squeak. “You take it back out with that.” He pointed at the small black box.
“Why in then out?” The soldier picked up the small box carefully.
“To see if the reason it wasn’t working was because it melded with some people better than others.” Ritter’s gaze skittered around the room.
“And did it?” The soldier asked.
“Not so far.” Ritter looked like he wanted to snatch the box away from the soldier.
“Show me.” The soldier stepped back to give Ritter access to the box.
“On you?” Ritter asked.
The soldier made a sound Ethan guessed was a laugh.
“No. On yourself.”
Ritter’s eyes widened. “Why not one of them?” he asked, pointing to Ethan and Velda.
“You.” The soldier pointed.
Ritter stepped forward, picked up the tongs, and lifted out a ball. He hesitated as he extended his palm, and Ethan guessed he’d never tried this himself.
Was he recalling—how had the guards put it? That people were not themselves when the ball was removed?
The Caruson soldier leaned forward, and Ritter’s hand shook as he dropped the ball into his palm.
It melted to nothing.
“Now take it out.” The soldier held out the small box.
Ritter took it in one hand, placed it on his palm, and a silver ball emerged back in the middle of his extended hand. “You’ll have to use the tongs to pick it up,” he said to the soldier.
“You.” The soldier pointed to Velda, and she picked the ball up, lifting it to get a good look.
“In the box,” the Caruson said.
She carefully placed it back.
Ritter looked jittery, but that might be the situation, rather than the removal of the ball.
“What is the ball?” the soldier asked.
“We don’t know.” Ritter’s words were husky, and he cleared his throat.
“Why are you experimenting here?” the soldier asked.
That was a really good question. Ethan had wondered that himself. Why was Ritter here, with the box of nanotech, in a Cores ship that was ferrying ore.
Surely they had labs, or at least a base of operations where experiments were easier to conduct.
“Sylvester wanted to see them. And he wanted information about them before we met up with him.” Ritter flicked a look at the box, and then away.
“Sylvester.” The Caruson soldier seemed to know who Ritter was talking about, but Ethan didn’t. Velda didn’t either, by the look on her face. “Well, he will have his wish, then. That’s the next stop.”
He said something that sounded harsh to Ethan’s ear, and the soldier who’d opened the box closed it and wheeled it back into the dispensary.
He gave an order, and the two guards who’d brought them here began to move them out of the med bay, behind Ritter and his guard.
Instead of taking them back to their cell, they followed Ritter down the passage into the mess, where everyone who was still alive onboard was being held.
It didn’t look as comfortable as their cell, Ethan thought as his gaze swept the room, but they certainly wouldn’t be bored.