Free Dark Space by Stephen A. Fender Page B

traders with less than
virtuous ethics.”
       “Yes, yes,” she said and
dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. “It’s been long abandoned. The OSI
kept a sharp eye on it for a while, but even they lost interest about three or
four years ago.”
       Shawn recalled that, during
the Galactic War, a virulent plague had come down to the planet from a stray
freighter that had wandered into orbit. Sensing no life signs aboard—and being
the opportunists that the people of Torval were known to be—they’d guided the
craft down to the surface in hopes of plundering its cargo holds. All they
found was a dead crew. One by one, the citizens of Torval began falling ill.
Not long after, there was a mass exodus from the “Planet of Death,” as it would
soon come to be known in the interstellar trade lanes.
       “I find it hard to believe
the Office of Special Intelligence loses interest in anything.”
       “It may surprise you to
know, Shawn, that at any given time there are hundreds, if not thousands of
operations going on in Beta Sector. For one planet to fall through the cracks
is not unheard of, nor is it implausible to think that the OSI had better
things to do than watch dead worlds.”
       “Uh huh,” he muttered.
“Just like they stopped watching Second Earth. We all know how that came
back to bite them in the—”
       Melissa backed off
slightly. “Point well taken. So … now, it seems, we have another world that
demands our attention.”
       “I’m fairly certain Ramos
has an anchor chain tying me to a desk right now,” he said, hooking his thumb
toward the bridge doors. “Besides, you still haven’t told me what Jerry
transmitted to the planet, nor who received it. I’m pretty sure Ramos would
like to know them before he alters the ship’s course.”
       Her head wagged. “Both are …
a little fuzzy.”
       Shawn raised an eyebrow.
“How fuzzy are we talking about?”
       “Like trying to read a
computer screen from a hundred yards away fuzzy.”
       “I’ve got pretty good
eyesight.”
       “Well, I don’t. I’ve made a
copy of the transmission,” she said, then held up a small data cartridge, “not
that it’s going to do any good. I’ve never seen anything like it. We’re going
to need someone with more expertise to analyze this.”
       Shawn nodded, thinking back
to his new assignment and the responsibilities Ramos had given him. “Where is
Santorum now?”
       “His quarters. My guess is
that he’s turned in for the night.” She saw a look cross over Shawn’s face, one
she had come to know well. “You thinking of paying him a visit?”
       “Do roses have thorns?”
       “You’re the blooming
botanist here, Mister Arboretum. You tell me.”
       “Come on. We don’t have
much time.”
     
    %%%
     
       Rounding the final corner,
Shawn and Melissa came to a halt outside Santorum’s quarters. Pressing the door
chime, Shawn waiting patiently for the lieutenant to answer. He wasn’t sure
where he was going to begin when Nova opened the door, but he was certain that
it wasn’t going to be good. 
       “Are you sure we shouldn’t
inform the captain first?” Melissa asked.
       Shawn shook his head as he
looked at the still closed door. “No. I want to have this conversation before
we go any further. Rest assured, though, that no matter what, Ramos is going to
know about it soon.”
       A moment later, one of the
nearby doors opened, startling Melissa and drawing Shawn’s attention. It was
Roslyn Brunel. She looked from Shawn to Melissa, then back to her former
commander. Sensing something was hiding behind Shawn’s normally cool exterior,
she pressed him for answers. “Something up, Shawn?”
       “Nothing you need to
concern yourself with, Raven,” he replied, then turned back to the door and
pressed the button once again. Where the hell was he?
       “I beg to differ,” she said, folding her
arms across her chest.