c. 2024 Rod Ice
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(11-24)
After her unexpected confrontation with Admiral Corel Nauga, Dr. Becka Stoudt had more questions remaining than answers. The surprising candor of her military opponent was informative, and helped to explain why those in the hierarchy on Mars were insistent upon keeping Professor Baines sidelined. Yet she was still puzzled about how he knew so much of what the university scholar had discovered at Evergreen Estates.
For clues, she began to research the origin of Tonka Hidecki’s most infamous creation.
Library entries that were accessible through a remote connection had been blacked out, officially. There was no explanation of this action, anywhere. But since the Morningstar III was still in orbit around Planet Earth, she decided to pursue a different and more secretive strategy. One that required using security overrides that were only available to a handful of personnel on the vessel.
As they circled the giant, blue orb from above, she began to send lines of code to a central hub used for communication between the Martian colonies, at Hellas Basin. Specifically, she referenced data stores with a connection to the isolated, Terran continent of Australia. This land mass had been virtually invisible during conflicts that erupted after the Great Uprising, a century before. Civilized groups still dotted the landscape, in remnant form, from Perth to Brisbane. Yet they held no interest in being paired with any fractured nation-state on the globe. Their distance from other populated areas had been an asset. One which they declined to surrender, in the modern world.
With a bit of computer trickery, Stoudt was able to make a connection through the main access point. She mimicked the username of a DNA match, someone mentioned in historical files submitted by patients at a clinic on the Red Planet. Then employed a fishing strategy to gain entry. Finally, background records began to appear on her monitor in the sick bay nexus. She scrolled through family reports about Hidecki’s bloodline, including the arrival of his grandparents from Japan on the northern coast of Aussie territory. After many pages, she found a description of his treatment device in a journal published by doctors that were part of the national health system. There, was the golden nugget she had been seeking. A sidebar column about the chair, its effects, and capabilities.
“Dr. Hidecki learned through months and years of clinical trials that his device could not only offer relief for those suffering from brain maladies, but also, retrieve memories through a backwards process of scanning brain matter and creating a map profile. Certain electronic signals were found to be associated with various reactive episodes in the cranium. Much like tapping a knee to measure the reflex, he was able coax patients into retelling embarrassing, childhood memories, as an example of extrasensory suggestion. Once this capability had been documented, however, he grew anxious about how the technology might be used outside of his laboratory. There was much interest among government agencies throughout the allied nations, about adapting it for their own purposes. His program of research ended at that point...”
Stoudt held her breath while reading through the last paragraph. Each word was a struggle to digest, intellectually.
“Physicians in Europe had been busy attempting to reproduce Hidecki’s experiments. Their peers in the United States experienced better luck working with what he had already created. But the timeline was interrupted by global war. Rumors of a prototype chair being taken to colonies on Mars persisted for the past 100 years, but remain unconfirmed. After the blockade of Australia, and an eventual depletion of inhabitants across the world, this story was left to languish in obscurity. The doctor’s fantastic creation is now a footnote for those who rummage through the legacy of lost civilizations...”
A rebellious mood welled up in her chest. She howled vocally, for no one to hear.
“YOU STOLE HIS MACHINE! YOU BASTARDS STOLE HIS MACHINE AND TURNED IT FROM A SCALPEL INTO A SCIMITAR!”
Her skin had turned pale and cold. But before she could exit her medical department, Hornell Block appeared in the doorway. His gruff demeanor indicated that some sort of update had been issued about their plans, from authorities in the continuum.
Dramatically, he covered the golden military badge on his chest.
“Becka, I’m here in a private, unofficial capacity. I hope you will respect that I came to you as a comrade from the crew, not a ranked superior...”
The doctor lifted her right eyebrow in an arc of puzzlement.
“Unofficial? I don’t get it. What’s disturbed your calm about following the chain-of-command?”
The top-level officer had to exhale forcefully, before offering an explanation.
“I received a surveillance report from my security agent, earlier this morning. It documents unusual, backchannel activity on the streaming network, from this vessel. That is something our benefactors at home might easily notice, should they be paying attention...”
Stoudt pursed her lips, and whistled innocently.
“Yes, so, did you locate an origin point?”
Her military counterpart lowered his eyes and nodded.
“Becka, you’re smarter than this! No one on this craft has clearance to poke around in classified material. Not even a lead physician like yourself. We all operate under guidelines set by the high council and its servants...”
The doctor laughed and gestured as if submitting to an arrest.
“So, what’s the punishment? You want to lock me up in our brig? That’d go over well with all the patients on this ward. Not to mention my own supervisors in the care network. But, do whatever you think is right!”
Commander Block tightened his muscles, and growled like a Martian dust storm.
“Gawdamm it, take me seriously, will you? I had the feed masked, that makes me an accomplice! Not to mention implicating our surveillance head. I wanted time to find out what you were doing. This morning, Admiral Nauga formally ordered the Morningstar to stand down from our primary mission, and jet back to the dock for a transfer of Kelly Strafe and Judson Baines to his custody. If his peers saw your clandestine research being conducted, there might be armed officers waiting when we arrive. Think of that if you don’t care about anything else. I can’t drag my feet, the orders have been given!”
Stoudt was emotionally rattled, yet stood firm on her conviction to do no harm.
“I can’t hand them over. They’re not well, neither of them are fit for incarceration or a trial, or whatever the hell they are planning! It’s my career to heal the sick. If I give that up, then my position here has no value. And I will have no soul! So, you’ve got two options, friend. Lock me up, or let me get back to work!”
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