Free The Synchronicity War Part 4 by Dietmar Wehr Page A

one...contact...magnetic clamps are activated. We have a
tight seal. The team is opening the hatch now. I'm switching the mike pickup to
the Team leader, Ops."
     
    As the Com Technician acknowledged the
pilot's comment, Shiloh leaned over to Dietrich and said, "Is this on an
open frequency?"
     
    Dietrich shook his head.
"Encrypted." It was clear that Dietrich was listening to the audio
transmission as well. They soon heard a new voice that Shiloh assumed was the
leader of the medical team.
     
    "We're inside now. Torres, you check
the Bridge. Frank, you check out Sick Bay. I'll check crew's quarters."
     
    With all three medics operating alone,
there was no one for them to talk to, and all Shiloh and Dietrich heard for the
next half a minute was static.
     
    "Oh shit!" The Team Leader's
voice was clearly agitated. "Ops, I've found a body in bed. Not sure who
it is yet. I'm checking the other cabins."
     
    Five minutes later there was no longer any
doubt. The whole crew was dead and had apparently all died in their sleep.
Dietrich tapped the Com Tech on the shoulder. The man nodded, activated a
switch and nodded again.
     
    "Team Leader, this is Admiral
Dietrich. Leave the bodies as they are for now. They'll be dealt with later.
Get your team back to the shuttle. Keep your bio-suits on. All of you will go
through decontamination when the shuttle lands. Do NOT talk about what you've
found to ANYONE even if they're wearing a Space Force uniform. Is that
understood?"
     
    "Ah…roger that, Admiral."
     
    Dietrich tapped the Com Tech on the
shoulder again and said, "Okay, Admiral Shiloh and I have heard enough.
Thank you, Lieutenant."
     
    "You're welcome, Sir."
     
    Shiloh followed Dietrich to a part of the
large room where they could speak without being overheard.
     
    "There's no way that we can keep this
from the OC indefinitely,” Dietrich began. “They're going to find out
eventually, and if we try to hide it from them, they'll use that fact against
us. I think I should inform them right now. What do you think?" 
     
    "I reluctantly agree, Admiral. The
shit is really going to hit the fan now. I don't envy you your position."
     
    Dietrich shrugged. "I'm not worried
about myself. Howard's going to get the blame. He may end up wishing he hadn't
survived that heart attack. It's the public's reaction that worries me. We were
able to hold a gun to the Committee's head because they knew the public would blame
them for any break with our AIs, but this is different. We can't blame the loss
of colonies on the Committee, but they CAN and will blame Space Force for the
losses. I know those bastards. Behind the public statements of grief and
sympathy, they'll be chomping at the bit to use this against us." He
paused then said, "Are Valkyrie and the others on their way to Site
B?"
     
    "Affirmative. They left two days
ago," said Shiloh.
     
    "Good. That's good. One less thing for
the Committee to complain about." Dietrich looked at the chronometer on
the wall and sighed. "I didn't realize it was so early when I called you,
but I wanted you here when we boarded that ship. Howard told me to trust your
advice."
     
    "Thank you, Admiral. That's good to
know."
     
    Dietrich nodded. "There's nothing more
that you can do here now, so you may as well head back to your quarters and get
some more sleep."
     
    "Sounds good to me, Sir," said
Shiloh. But if Kelly is still awake, I doubt I'll be getting any more sleep
this morning.
     
    Dietrich watched Shiloh walk away and
wondered why he had that strange grin on his face.
     
                                                                 *
* *
     
    The OC's reaction was carefully calculated.
The freighter crew deaths were released to the public with statements
cautioning the public from overreacting. Howard, now officially retired, stayed
in seclusion and refused to comment.
     
    It was the deaths ten days later of two
other freighter