Free Jaunt by Erik Kreffel Page B

me.”
    De Lis understood perfectly. “Get Colonel Dark Horse a list. He’ll take care of the rest.”
    “All right. Colonel, I’m sure the DoD will be requesting a mission profile from me and Agent Mason. Give us an hour, and we can have one to you, also.”
    “Understood.”
    Mason scrolled through the data on his holobook. “The first objective will most likely be to attempt a retrieval of specimens from the Russian landfall sight. Of all the craters sites discovered so far, this one will be the most hazardous, if only because the Confederation can access it rather easily and give us all kinds of trouble. Doctor, Colonel, I recommend that this briefing be allocated the highest security clearance. This won’t be legal by anyone’s means.”
    De Lis glanced at Colonel Dark Horse. “The colonel has arranged for that. We can speak freely.”
    “Good.” Mason leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the conference table.
    “This is where the fun part begins.”
    Mason scrolled up the page again, reading this paragraph for the third time in the last five minutes. Staying up to finish a DoD report was never as much fun as catching the cineweb, but business always took first prize for his attention.
    He heard a commotion that reawakened his senses, driving him to the door of his quarters. Several stern voices echoed loudly in the corridor, each talking over the other. Unlocking his door, he spied a group of MPs racing past his quarters, sidearms drawn.
    Mason threw a semi-appropriate button-down shirt over his head and ran into the corridor. Gilmour, who also appeared to have just been roused, met him in the hall outside of his quarters.
    “What’s happening?”
    Mason started down the corridor. “Something big!”
    The two agents could hear the MPs gathering at the entrance to U5-1, just around the turn of the corridor. Behind them, appearing less urgent, were Valagua, Marlane and Waters. Coming around, Gilmour and Mason saw that de Lis and Dark Horse had already beaten them to the main offices. A sergeant at the entrance quietly relayed information to the chief scientist and the DoD representative, while five Marine MPs swarmed inside.
    On the other side of the corridor, Quintanilla and Roget were just now meeting up with de Lis. The two agents and the three senior scientists were halted with an outstretched palm by the lead MP.
    Waters walked between Mason and Gilmour. “Richard, what’s going on?”
    De Lis shook his head. “Can’t talk now.”
    “Richard!” Waters protested before the lead Marine cleared her out of the way.
    All heads turned to the side to see five new MPs escorting a medevac team down the hall towards them. Marching in rhythm, the new wave of MPs had brought with them holo-imagers, presumably to catalog whatever had transpired inside the lab. The MPs entered the main offices in single file, summarily relieving the first squad. Without warning, these MPs cordoned off the entrance, forming a shield with their armor and weapons, which prevented the project scientists from even seeing their own workplace.
    Upon finishing with the MPs, the Marine sergeant took hold of de Lis’ arm and whispered into the doctor’s ear, away from the inquisitive assemblage. The conversation was one-sided, and de Lis nodded several times, as if receiving instructions from a PR rep.
    Before this incident, de Lis had appeared haggard to begin with; the agents wondered if he had caught any rest at all the last few weeks. Remarkably, though, he must have had an iron will. During their duty hours, de Lis was quite alert and spritely, always exuding his enthusiasm for the research. Hell, he nearly out-hiked them all in Nepal.
    But this development couldn’t be weighing easily on his soul. Tensions were already prevalent due to the political situation, and de Lis’ department had been tearing apart in the wake of the recent troubles. Now, this had occurred, leaving the project in jeopardy if the DoD had