The Tempest Read online

  “Remember the mission two years ago when I died? They want me to use the same equipment again. Mission parameters demand it,” Tranter replied.

  “Is it safe now? I heard some pretty strange rumors about what they were going to use that technology for.”

  Flicking the soldier at her side a sarcastic smile, she said, “Gossip, Lewis. Really, when did you become a member of the Normal race?”

  David Lewis bellowed out a hearty laugh that peeled around the conference room. It suited him, as he was a six foot five, solidly built man; a gentle tone wouldn’t have fit at all.

  “I don’t gossip, and I’m insulted you want to put me with the rabble who think they are superior to us. The colonel was doing the gossiping. I only overheard the conversation, part of my job.”

  Arching an eyebrow at the mention of her superior’s name she wondered where he was. “Ah well, I forgive you then. We can’t expect anything else from a mere Normal, can we? What did they say?” She was interested. Who wouldn’t be? The first time had ended in her premature death.

  “Something about speeding up the cloning process. Didn’t understand it myself, and the techie wasn’t around to advise me.”

  “Gottcha. Well, I’m out of here. Keep the others on their toes. Something tells me there could be more going on than the general allowed me to access.” She turned away from the man and headed for her room to shower and change before she rendezvoused with Stark.

  Lewis watched her go, ruefully shaking his head. The general is a bastard of the first order and worse to the major. Makes me wonder what went on in the guy’s mind when he saw the product of his own DNA sent on impossible situations with the possibility of dying. The general is worse than a bastard. He is the devil incarnate, if one believed in such things. He must have a sadistic vein running through him. He always makes sure his daughter is nominated as the prime candidate for the most dangerous missions. Maybe he gets off on using his spawn to do all the things he couldn’t. Probably.

  Lewis sighed heavily and headed back to the office and the roster, thankful he didn’t have to take orders from his biological ‘father’.

  †

  Alana stared at her console, wondering how she had allowed Jim to convince her that what they were doing was for the best. A part of her knew, deep down, that it was all her fault…the military intervention…if only…

  “Doctor, they’re here. Do you want to personally check the data into the computer?” Sam Ramsey’s voice jolted her out of her wandering thoughts.

  “Already?” She glanced up at the clock on the cream-colored wall of the observation room. She brought her gaze to the young man. “Sure, I’ll do it. We don’t want any mistakes. Do we?”

  “I could do it, Doctor. You’ve trained me well. There wouldn’t be any mistakes.” He dropped his gaze quickly and turned to the console.

  Alana stared at the bent head. Sam was an undergraduate, spending his sabbatical on the project before his final year. From all accounts, he was the very best of the batch of that senior year, and she had to agree. Sam had picked up the pertinent operations of Tempest with the speed of a comet traveling through space at twice the speed of light. He wasn’t cocky with his knowledge either, or at least, not with her. In the past, she’d had to put up with some real pains in the butt. Sam was different. He listened, learned, and carried out what was asked of him, the perfect student. Maybe she should have asked him to dinner and found out a little more about him. Then again, when did she ever go to dinner? She must be the most boring scientist on the planet, save the manufactured ones. Part of her deal was that no clone or radical, or whatever they were called, would be allowed on her project while she was still a director. One day though, she would have to concede that it wouldn’t be her project. Then what?

  “Sorry, Sam, it isn’t about you. This is something I have to do. Maybe I’ll tell you about it one day.”

  Sam lifted his head. Mousey, shoulder-length hair flopped over his face, and he grinned as he flicked back the hair. “Soon, I hope.” He went back to monitoring his screen. Pressing the internal communication device on her wrist, she called Jim. “I’m going to prep the team personally.” She disconnected immediately, not giving him the chance to question her on the wisdom of what she was going to do. She looked up to the control room and saw him looking down at her, shaking his head. She shrugged. “This is my decision, and I know what is best.” Alana hurried away, not wanting to encounter the general and other observers she knew would be arriving shortly.

  Alana negotiated the turn in the corridor leading to the preparation room. The door responded to her access code and slid open noiselessly. She silently observed the stark, white room, where several technicians were helping the personnel involved in the mission complete their cleansing stage. From her vantage point, she saw only opaque images of a man and a woman, unable to make out anything distinguishable except that they were both well-muscled and presumably at the peak of fitness. From this angle, the woman looked more toned than the man. However, the screen could be deceptive—this time it wasn’t.

  The woman left the area first and stretched her body that Alana suspected was still stinging from the electronic bombardment of the micro cleansing. Even RADICALS had the occasional kink in the muscles. Alana had to admit her initial observation had been correct. As the younger man arrived in the clothing area, she could see he wasn’t as toned. Alana had a suspicion that the woman was vaguely familiar, but she would have to work that one out later.

  “Doctor Cameron, we have the information recorded during the bioscan.”

  Turning away from the two who were suiting up, Alana glanced at the data and then back to the doctor who was in charge of the physical preparation. “No surprises I hope this time, Pat?”

  She looked at Patricia Forsyth, who had gone through her own particular guilt trip over the deaths of the military personnel two years earlier. Now, with all the modifications and the ultra-checks they carried out, it was impossible that would happen again. At least not that particular scenario. Alana had worked endlessly to achieve that goal—it was a standing joke with the base personnel who didn’t know her. Cameron didn’t have a life beyond the console experiments she lived and breathed.

  “Not this time, Alana. Do you want to talk them through the procedure? Although it might not be necess—”

  “Yes, I’ll do that now,” Alana said distractedly. She was only listening to the niggling thought that she knew the female officer on this mission. But how?

  Patricia Forsyth didn’t say any more, as she opened the secure panel separating the personnel from the rest of the technicians.

  Alana passed through a small-pulse, anti-bacterial shower, before she entered the clean room. The glare of the white walls and the brilliant reflection of the pulsing lights hit her eyes. Damn I forgot my goggles!

  Blinking rapidly wasn’t helping. She spoke to the two people behind the final screen opposite her. “I’m Doctor Cameron. I’ll explain the procedure to you. That should minimize any reservations you may have.”

  “Doctor, there isn’t any need to explain the operational procedure. We know it.”

  There it was, a familiar voice pattern. Now why is that? She couldn’t see the person clearly but knew it was the woman speaking.

  Puzzled and slightly put out at the arrogant tone, she bit her lip.

  “Unless you’ve done this before, I’d suggest you listen carefully.” There was a small silence. Alana’s eyes finally cleared, and she stared into the inky depths of cold, calculating eyes. As the soldier spoke, so did the voice in her head.

  “I have done this before. My name is—”

  “Tranter…Major Tranter, but you’re dead!” Alana gasped. What does this mean? I saw them. I know there were two fatalities. She had never forgotten the episode. How could she when she felt responsible?

  “My death is irrelevant. The important part is that you recall me. Private Stark and I are ready for the transfer.”

&nb
sp; She’d heard that voice repeatedly in her head. The scream of pain, the final dying conversation before the whole experiment had collapsed and with it, she thought, the lives of two souls. Shaking her head, Alana couldn’t believe she was talking to someone who had died. Even a clone couldn’t be…fully matured in two years. They didn’t have the technology—strike that—they obviously did.

  “I don’t understand. Why did they tell me you were dead?”

  The major cast the doctor a long, searching glance. “You are obviously having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that I rose from the dead, so to speak. I’m sure, when you have completed whatever it is you need to do, someone will advise you accordingly. Now, we need to maintain our schedule… Or do I pose a problem to the mission?”

  Unable to clear the footage running like a documentary in her head, Alana remained silent. She was pulled out of her flashbacks as that voice finally reached her. “Doctor, do I pose a problem for the mission in terms of the equipment? There is no room for error this time around.”

  “No. The equipment is safe, or as safe as any form of travel is,” she defended her baby with gusto. No more deaths on her watch. Although she now wondered if any deaths had been attributed to the earlier experiment.

  “Lieutenant Lane died, and he wasn’t resurrected. Shall we proceed?” Tranter said.

  Alana was stunned. Could they read minds too? Caught like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle, Alana frowned before nodding.

  “Excellent choice, Doctor.”

  Ten minutes later, all the data was computed and Alana was back at her console. Who the hell was this Major? When this mission is over I want some answers. She watched as the pair entered the tunnel. It was like turning back the clock two years…

  “Major Tranter transfer commencement, three, two…”

  Agonizing screams and a loud-pitched siren noise permeated the speakers in the console room as the loudspeaker connected to Lieutenant Lane emitted what could only be the final sounds of his life force expiring. The room was silent and still, no one wanted to believe that the noises vibrating through the room were of a man dying…in agony.

  “Abort the command for Tranter. Abort!”

  “No!”

  Alana couldn’t believe her ears and eyes, as someone pushed her aside. Her gaze had been locked for a few precious seconds on the woman who had entrusted her life to their experiment. Now, she gawked at the general who coolly punched the console button to complete the sequence and a death sentence.

  Seconds later, the same siren could be heard, but the woman’s screams were muted. Alana had a vivid description in her mind of the major gritting her teeth and trying not to feel the pain of the failed experiment resulting in her certain demise.

  After a wretched, traumatized scream at Jim, Alana shouted, “Check the perimeter for any signs of the bodies.”

  What had seemed like a century turned out to be several minutes before the partially charred bodies of the two officers were recovered. They appeared exactly where they excepted them to arrive, minutes later than the immediate exchange expected.

  Alana’s eyes flashed upwards at the general. He returned her stare nonplussed. A faint smile pursed his lips. He isn’t human, he can’t be. The next words proved it conclusively…

  “The experiment worked, ladies and gentlemen. Now to iron out the glitches.” He strode out of the console room with a fawning entourage, leaving only the Tempest team to wonder what had happened in the last hour.

  Tears that she refused to shed in front of the military and government personnel finally cascaded down Alana’s cheeks. “We killed two people, Jim, and he didn’t care. He could have prevented one of them from dying. What kind of man is that?”

  Jim sighed heavily, as if he had the whole weight of the world on his shoulders. “I don’t understand why we failed… It shouldn’t have happened.” He looked at her. “Sorry, Al, what did you say?”

  Alana knew she was speaking to the wall, as a glazed expression from her coworker confronted her. Why did she think it would matter to him? He wasn’t like her. She cared about Tempest but also the people who gave their lives to see it through. Today, she would remember two more faces and names that had sacrificed their lives to her family’s project. What else could she do under the circumstances? Just one thing. The military would no longer control Tempest, no matter what leverage they used with financial backing. She still did have the last say. We will have to go over every single equation and notation made in the last six months, maybe even a year. Next time we will get it right…if there is a next time.

  Chapter

  Five

  Alana was brought out of her daze by a voice saying her name.

  “Dr. Cameron, are you with us?” The voice that had haunted her dreams for the past two years insinuated itself into her brain. She didn’t know if she hated that or the general more at this moment, as her eyes turned to stare at him with cold defiance.

  Jim glanced at her and shook his head. “Al, do we have a green light?”

  “Yes, all the data is inputted, and we are ready to initiate the sequence.” She looked at Sam, who began the countdown. Her own clipped tone broke the threads from memories of old.

  “Three…two… Initiation now.”

  “Major Tranter, on my mark you will press your sequencer. Mark.” Alana pressed a button on her console confirming the request. Her eyes shifted to Stark, and she repeated her request.

  “Doctor, we have initiation,” the senior technician acknowledged from the holding area closest to the tunnel.

  Alana held her breath, as they waited for confirmation from the two transporters that they had arrived safely at their destination.

  “General, Tranter here. We are at the requested coordinates. We will send another communication in fifteen minutes. Tranter out.”

  A cheer went up, as self-satisfied smiles and handshakes flooded the console room. Two people remained at the console, checking the data stream that gave them the life-signs of the personnel used in the experiment. I should be celebrating this success made possible by my parents, and yet, I am a worrywart. Obviously, I’ve had too many hours at the console. Maybe now it is time to find a new life.

  “Sam, good work.”

  Sam grinned. “Who would have thought I’d be here to witness this…history is being made.” They had literally transported two people thirty thousand miles from their original location.

  “I believe you are correct, Sam.” Alana conceded.

  “My god, Doctor, this is way cool. It’s such an honor, and look what I have to tell them at the university. Wow!”

  “Sam, please go and enjoy a drink with the others. I’ll watch the consoles.”

  Sam desperately wanted to make new, powerful friends but knew that this woman was more powerful than all of them put together. She had it all in the palm of her hand, and she didn’t even know herself. No one, no one, knew this project as she did, and it was remarkable how humble she was at this time. “Are you sure? You should be there in the thick of things. This is your triumph.”

  Alana laughed for the first time in ages. She liked the young man’s attitude, and at least he had thought of her. As her eyes scanned the room, she found Jim grinning enough to split his face and doing his host bit, chatting to everyone.

  “Go ahead, Sam, I don’t drink.”

  He scrambled out of his chair and headed for the fun. Alana gave a weary shake of her shoulders. It had been a long road to reach this point, but they had done it. Now she had to think of the future.

  “This is Tranter. I need to speak with base.” The clipped tones of the soldier she had seen only half an hour before greeted her from thousands of miles away.

  Flicking on her mic, Alana replied, “Hello, do you need anything?”

  There was silence for a few seconds. “Are you base communications?”

  “Yes, we have twenty-four-seven communication with your superiors. Shall I call them?”

&n
bsp; “Unnecessary. Your name and rank will do.”

  “I don’t have a rank, at least…doctor. Doctor Cameron, my name’s Alana.”

  “Doctor Cameron, we are set to make the adjustments required. However, there is a solar flare-up. We will be out of contact for four hours.”

  “Got that. Want me to call the general?”

  “No!”

  Alana grinned. Hey, there is hope for everyone if the soldiers don’t like him either.

  “I’ll wait here for your communication in four hours, Major Tranter.”

  A small silence ensued, and the next words astounded Alana. “Did anyone ever tell you, Doctor, that you need a life?”

  Alana was stunned. This was a RADICAL speaking, and they never commented on emotional stuff… Or is that another fabrication about their kind?

  “When you return, maybe you’d like to help me out in that area.” Alana’s words amazed her. What on earth am I thinking, for God’s sake?

  “Perhaps.”

  “Our coordinates are a23.11.h07. Confirm?” Tranter said.

  “Confirm, a23.11.h07,” Alana replied.

  The transport link died, as her personal band blinked rapidly for her response.

  “Cameron.”

  “Al, please, you have to be here and celebrate with us. We’ve sent everything from backpacks to monkeys all over the globe, but now, now we’ve done even better. We’ve sent human beings into space.”

  “I’m okay where I am. Someone has to monitor our…friends.”

  “Al, give it up. You’ve done it, all of it, everything your parents expected…no…more than they did—you’ve transcended space itself.”

  “I’ll be happy here. You take the congratulations for both of us; that’s more your field.” She silenced the link by pressing a switch.

  She was proud though, very proud of her mom and dad. Today makes everything worthwhile, everything…did the major say perhaps?